[center][h2][b][color=gray][i]Barnabum Yerickford[/i][/color][/b][/h2][/center]



“ One screw. Two screws. And that’s it!” 

 Barnabum wiggled the spanner out from the bolt, wiping a river of sweat off his brow. The room they’d housed the rune engine in was cramped with mold festering cracks and cobwebs in the rafters. The lack of ventilation had turned the interior of the room into a soupy mist, as hisses of coolant and coughs of smoke punctuated the silence of his work. 

Overall, it was tiring, unpleasant and horrible work. 

But he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Tightening the last of the screws and checking the pressure gauge one last time, Barnabum began to walk out of the boiling engine room, carrying his toolbox with his gloved hand. Closing the door behind him, Barnabum climbed up onto the deck of the Sky Maiden, brushing the dust off his pants. The last batches of cargo were still being loaded onto the ship by the band of fae they’d hired. 

As he strode through the deck, he gave small faint nods to each crew member that was situated there. He made a mental note to converse with the master gunner later about his ideas for augmenting the large-bore cannons with gravity accelerators.Overall, it was an odd bunch that he’d decided to join up with but you couldn’t count on a rigorous application process when you took up piracy as a career. The funds would be worth it, though. It had to be. 




Eventually, Barnabum leaned against the solar-sail mast and took out a small moth-eaten handbook, flipping open to a brand new page.  “ Now, that sure as heck won’t work.”  Barnabum playfully mused to himself, crossing out the figure and writing a new sketch of his proposed engine, “ Or will it?” . His  eyes flickered across each and every hypothetical measurement, equations dancing in his mind to ensure his prototype would tread the line between failure and success. He continued on this tangent for a little while before noticing the captain in the corner of his eye. He snapped his book shut and stumbled over towards her hurriedly. A maniac crescent grin split his face in half as he took out a sheet of parchment with scrawlings on it, presenting it to Dihala as if it was show and tell. 

“ Ah, Captain! I’va made some absolutely scienterrific modifications to the ship’s engine. I calculate….hm….let’s see here...lots of ones. Lots of twos…..Lots of zeroes...That’s good. I’ve managed to darn near increase forward thrust in her by a factor of 1.32 and reduce vacuum drag by a good ol’ 1.65 peeerrrcent!” The gnome giggled excitedly, taking a moment to wipe a smear of grease off his beard before trailing off again. “ I do have some ideas about bolstering our forward propulsion engines, though, this require a significant quantity of unstable isotope of mithril for - “ 

Barnabum paused for a moment, realizing at how cruddy he was at delivering pitches, before rewording his suggestions to convert their sky-ship into a hyper light cruiser instead of a nuclear meltdown. 

“Well, shoot, I can see the problem wit’ tha last idea. That’s just fer your consideration.”  Barnabum once more began to return to his rant before he frowned, his face curdling like sour milk. He looked over Dihala’s shoulder and shouted “ Oi, gerroff mah shrooms! You’re supposed to be loading the cargo, not sampling the cargo!” 

He jabbed his finger towards a pixie of the Joy Division who looked like a murderer caught in the middle of a crime scene, cigar dangling out of his mouth. 

“ You damnable flower spawn” Barnabum snarled out loud as he ripped the cigar out from the . Instead of reprimanding the pixie further, he took out a fresh cigar out from the box and shoved it roughly into the pixie’s hands. 

“ You’re smoking it the wrong way!  Here, let me show you how to properly enjoy one of these cigars.” 

Barnabum took out a small pocket knife and cut off the end of the cigar, showing the pixie how to grip it properly and how not to stick it in his mouth. After the short demonstration, Barnabum lighted his and the pixie’s carefully, the ends of their cigars glowing orange bright. The pixie sucked in the fumes and blinked several times, eyes dilating and staring upwards at the sky. Judging by the dazed bloodshot gazes they were both giving Dihala, it was evident that they were high as a kite.