Hobbling along, the goblins stout body is slightly hunched over as he moves toward us. Balancing with an overly complex, gearpunk designed cane, in a small thin fingered hand.

In relation to the other goblins scurrying everywhere on the docks, he is fairly tall and unlike the more everyday work clothes they are wearing, this one sports a gold thread embroidered, blue grey jacket that covers him to his waist and a pair of tan colored, shortened pants that end just above the knee.

"Crod?" Two close-set eyes stare up at us from their bony sockets as he draws close and I see that one of his legs is a mishmash of gears and pistons; crunching the gravel of the walkway beneath a wide iron shod foot.

"Yes, Sir." I answer after a quick glance to Cinnamon, I extend my hand to the small creature. "Pleasure to meet you. Mr. Plogz is it?"

"Ha! That cheating bugger said you had respectful tendencies." The goblin grins and grabs my hand, shaking it solidly.

"My mother taugh me to be polite." I say.

"Can't fault a soul for such a good upbringing." He says, releasing my hand; placing his atop the other holding his walking stick.

"So? Having some snags in the burg, yeah? Crod mentioned that you'd need a roof and bunk for a day or so. The goblins voice drops in volume, "And that you might be having a bit of an issue with the Sniffers?"

"Sniff-- Ah, the guard?" I say lowering my voice a little to match his, "Yeah... I'm sure it's all just a little mix-up. Anyway, I'm Brian, this is Cinnamon, and umm... Kryst is in the bag there." I give the goblin a shrug, "We think that the... Sniffers have some sort of problem with her, being that she's a Gleam, hence why she is keeping out of sight, but we really can't figure how or why."

"I've had more than my fair share of issues with the legislative where it pertains to fairy requisitions, as of late." The goblin lets out a sour snort, and sucks his teeth.

"Oh? How so?" I question.

"Sorry, those are G.U. politicals." He states waving off the inquiry, "I'll just say that a bit too much peculiarity abounds in recent." Plogz looks up to the far off canopy of the Redtree, then shakes his head, "Well, don't fret your cranials. I'm sure things will get sorted in short. Till time comes, you'll be snug in the Crags." With a tap of his cane on the bench edge he turns about and motions back the way he came. "Follow on, then."

"Say, Mr. Plogz?" I move to shoulder my pack as I grunt under the heavy weight, "You wouldn't happen to know of any good leatherworkers or tanners would you?" Opening one of my bags, I pull out a bit of the monster hide. "I'm looking to unload this."

"Say, that's fine!" Taking a closer look the goblin lets out a whistle between the gap in his teeth, "You huntsmen, then?"

"Not quite." I shake my head, "But we are in need of coin more than materials at the moment."

"Tell you truth, you might seek a squeakier price shopping it around, but if you're presently wishing to lift the load an pad your pouch then I could pass through channels at the Trades." Plogz says pointing toward a large building on the edge of the pier surrounded by merchant types.

"That would be great." I turn to Cinnamon who gives me a closed eye approving smile.

"We'll march by on the way to the lifts then." Plogz nods then turns and starts walking along the path but after only a few steps his knee buckles as his mechanical appendage locks up.

Hopping about on his one good leg he grips his cane tightly while emitting a series of strange throaty sounding growl clicks, that I can only assume is goblin cursing. Stepping over, I catch him by the elbow before he topples to the ground, and guide him back to the bench where he balances on a butt cheek as his leg jitters.

"Oh my goodness. Are you alright?" Cinnamon questions.

"Cursed mechtanics!" He huffs, reaching down to bang on his knee joint. "I'll be fine, missus. Apologies, just need to give it a tick or two then we can move along."

I study his robot-like leg for a moment. Over sized and clunky, it's construction gives it a certain stylized visual that clearly matched the other mechanical devices I'd seen so far in this world.

My logical brain has no choice but to compare the inner workings of the limb to modern machinery. The mass of pistons and heat sink plates, connected via bulbous screws to oversized clockwork mechanisms, make it resemble something from a graphic novel or video game.

Now, unlike my father, I had never been too mechanically inclined, but from a youth spent helping dad on weekends with general home and automotive maintenance and repair, I've picked up enough to know that there was no way this cos-play crap should be able to function!

Golem Tech + Bonus from Complementary Skills: Success!

Just as oddly bizarre, however, is the fact that I knew exactly what the problem was with the limbs construction, and how to fix it.

"Mr. Plogz, did you use a Wargear traction plate for this?" I ask.

"Good peepers you possess, shadowson." He confirms, "Was an old derelict the guard had stripped and dumped."

"You know I think I see the issue." Pulling out my Tinkers kit, I kneel next to where he is sitting. "You mind if I have a look?" I hold up a couple of my tools and pause, waiting for the goblins approval.

"HA! If you can get this fiendish contraption stepping proper I'll have Union papers pressed for you before the noon." The Goblin laughs then gives me a nod to proceed. I dive in removing a small covering plate to expose a few of the more delicate components near the knee joint.

"Yup, there is your problem. See this steel slave spindle here?" I point to a cog, "That's regulated for a human. You need a brass one." I pop off the gear and the Goblin makes a blubbering sound of alarm. Quickly I reach into my adventurers backpack, expending x1 use to pull out the required component.

Adventurer’s Backpack: Mundane: This item can be used to pull forth 5 mundane pieces of adventuring gear. The items retrieved cannot have a value of more than 5 gold. Once an item is called forth from the pack it remains. Contents: 50ft Hemp Rope, Grappling Hook, Handsaw, (Travel) Tinker's Toolkit, Small Brass Gear. Uses Remaining: x4

"A silver cylinder would be better connector here, too." I'm about to reach into my pack once more but know intuitively that the second part would be more costly than the five gold piece value limit. "But I'm afraid that I don't have one. Still, that should be much more comfortable, at least until you can make that switch." Tightening the brass gear in place, I lean back on a knee and motion to Plogz to try it out.

The look of doubt on his face quickly transforms to elation as he swivels his foot around and hops off of the bench practically dancing a jig, his walking stick all but forgotten in his hand.

"Why if that don't tickle a bunghole!" He slaps me hard on the shoulder. "Crod said that you knew Technicals, but I figured that he was just spitting jibber jabber to bluff a lousy hand. Do you tred any ground in particular?"

"Uhh, I know a few different fields." I think that is what he is asking, "Weaponsmithing, metal fabrication, golem, airship and magitech..." Along with his grin, Plogz eyes grow wider and wider as I list off my character skill sets, but I'm amazed they don't pop completely out of his skull when I mention, "Wargear."

"Darklander, you and I have topics we need to conversate about."