Week 20

Summer 9: A project Fails, Which one? Why? or Something goes foul and supplies are ruined. The metal search project fails The party comes back empty handed. The Desalination machine needs quarterly quarterly upkeep.

The ancient desalination machine, a relic of the bygone Kyran era, groaned and hissed, tendrils of steam dancing around its rusty joints. Salandra Greenfield, the formidable half-orc mechanic, her hands stained with the grease of her labor, scrutinized the machine’s intricate workings. The town of Sanctuary relied on this apparatus to purify the sea water, making it crucial to their survival. Bartholomew, son of Dave the Blacksmith, a tall and sturdy young man with a fire in his eyes and aspirations higher than the Norak Mountains, reluctantly joined her. He might not be passionate about smithing, but his skills were unarguable.   Amar Cosgrove, the artificer with nimble fingers and a mind sharp and curious as a blade, was the last piece of this eclectic puzzle. He looked at the machine with sparkling eyes, envisioning the arcane possibilities hidden within its rusty exterior.   “The dam’s energy seems to be fluctuating. We need to stabilize it before the whole town runs out of fresh water,” Salandra muttered, her hands deftly maneuvering over the aged levers and bolts.   Amar nodded, his gaze fixed on the pulsating arcane energy within the hydro dam. “Indeed, I sense disturbances in the water elementals within the dam. Their energies are misaligned, causing these fluctuations.”   Bartholomew, flexing his muscular arms, rolled his eyes at the talk of elementals and energies. “Let’s just fix the damn thing and get it over with. Sal, tell me where to hit.”   Salandra glanced at Bartholomew, suppressing a smirk. “Patience, Bartholomew. We can’t just hammer our way through this. Amar, can you recalibrate the arcane resonators?”   Amar, immersed in the swirl of energies around him, nodded and began to chant softly. The air tingled with arcane whispers as the elementals responded to his call, their movements becoming harmonious.   Bartholomew, feeling the energy around him, scowled. “Fine, but if something needs hitting, I’m your man.” His hands tightened around the hilt of his hammer, feeling the vibrations of the resonating energies.   Salandra’s focus was on the intricate gears and pistons, her hands moving with precision to adjust the components, aligning them with the newly stabilized energies. “Almost there…” she murmured, beads of sweat lining her forehead.   Suddenly, the machine hummed to life, the grinding and hissing replaced by a harmonious purr, clear water gushing out of its spouts. The trio sighed in relief, exchanging triumphant glances.   Salandra wiped the sweat from her brow, a satisfied grin plastered on her face. “Good work, team. The town won’t be thirsty any time soon.”   Amar, still surrounded by the shimmer of arcane energies, nodded. “The elementals are content. The harmony has been restored.”   Bartholomew, though appearing gruff and nonchalant, couldn’t hide the flicker of pride in his eyes. “Not too bad, I suppose. But next time, let me hit something.”   As they exited the dam’s premises, the trio walked under the gaze of the everlasting stars, the seemingly harmonious Sanctuary cloaked in silence, and a whisper of ancient secrets veiled in the mountain winds, secrets of a past civilization, lost but not forgotten.