Shale woke up quite reluctantly. He had spent the night at Gwip’s workshop, sleeping on a makeshift bed of hay, cloth, and paint cans. Unsurprisingly, his back was extremely sore.
He groaned and sat up, working the stiffness out of his spine, and stood, still stretching. “Gwip…?”
“Took you long enough.” The raccoonfolk’s voice emanated from underneath the Mirage. “I’ve got bad news, and we’ve got work to do.”
“Bad news? By all means, share away.” Shale’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he walked over, leaning on the Mirage’s steam chest.
Gwip stuck his snout out, wiping a touch of grease off of it. “Okay, it’s in several parts. Do you want the catastrophic or the kinda bad first?”
“Aw, Nether. Start with the catastrophic.” Shale sighed. “It’s gonna be bad, just get it over with.”
“Catastrophes, comin’ right up.” Gwip crawled back in, his voice echoing. “So first, the gearbox is shot. Like, we only got home because we weren’t going very fast. Any faster than running and this puppy is going to rip itself to pieces.” A grunt, and the noise of metal on metal. “Second, the boiler will not hold pressure because the fittings are partially melted. Again, that cripples our speed. Finally-” A loud crunch. “The oil pump is dead. Or at least it was mostly dead. Now it’s entirely dead. So nothing gets lubricated and we don’t move from this spot till it’s fixed.”
“So what’s the only kinda bad news?! All of those are showstoppers, Gwip.” Shale growled in frustration.
Gwip crawled all the way out, wiping his hands on his jeans and holstering his wrench. “We’re only a little low on the funds we’ll need to fix her up.”
“A little. What’s a little?”
“Oh, ya know, at a guess… five hundred suns.” Gwip shrugged. “Give or take a bit for transport costs and tools.”
“Great! So I guess we just, ya know. Sell our souls. Or pawn off my sword, and the arm that goes with it.” Shale threw up his hands. “Where in the Great Void are we gonna get five hundred suns in less than a week?”
“I’ve got some ideas. Unfortunately, none of them good. We might as well get started, though.” Gwip headed for the door, with a reluctant Shale in tow.
A solid eight hours of busking, betting, pickpocketing (though only rich people, Shale insisted on it), the pair reconvened on the corner of Redwood and Brook to count their collected funds. Between the two, they had collected… five suns.
“Alright, I’m gonna look for a pawnshop.” Shale sighed. “The Rose Sword is probably worth at least a hundred suns.”
“Hey, wait now! I’ve got one more idea. It’s probably the worst, but… it’ll get us the money we need.” Gwip looked… desperate. Which was even worse than unhinged.
“Alright, what is it?” Shale leaned in.
“Yeah, what is it?” An unfamiliar voice piped up, brusque and curious.
Gwip bristled, looking for the source of the voice. “Uh, why’s it any of your- oh.” He stepped back, standing a bit behind Shale, who also turned to look.
A snow-white foxfolk woman was standing on the street next to them, leaning on a lamppost. A repeating crossbow was strapped to her back, a purple collar around her neck. “It’s my business because I’m curious. And bored.”
“Yeah, well…” Shale trailed off, the reprimand dying in his throat. “Can… you give us a second?” He turned back, pulling Gwip in close. “I think we’ve got one of our two guards.”
“You kidding me? We don’t even know her!” Gwip hissed. “For all we know she could be a merc, or a bloodthirsty hunter, or a- wait, you know, you’ve got a point.” He paused. “Still not a great idea to just scoop someone off the street…”
“Could be a lot worse.” Shale turned around to face the foxfolk woman again. “We’re uh. Putting together a team for the Great Rail Rally.”
“A team for the- really?” She leaned in, tail wagging. “Well, you’ve got only two people.” She seemed… hopeful?
“Uh- yup. We need our guards, and our driver. We’ve got a loco, but… she needs repairs.”
“Well… I can shoot pretty good.” The foxfolk woman leaned back, smirking. “Best shot in Steamhaven… maybe in the whole Federation.”
“You can’t just be accurate. You gotta be strong, and you gotta be fast.” Shale crossed his arms. “We’re talking rally guard, not just a regular railguard job. We’re not going up against pirates, we’re going against other teams. All of which will be- Ack!”
Shale was cut off by the foxfolk woman, quick as a wink, scooping him up and pinning him to the wall with one hand, his feet dangling off the floor. She smirked, even as Gwip’s comparatively glacial reaction time had him only now pulling out his thundercaster. “Fast enough for ya, swordsman?”
“Uh- yup- m-more than fast enough- ow-” Shale groaned: his shoulder was starting to feel the squeeze. “Lemme down, will ya?”
He was unceremoniously dropped, landing lightly on his feet. He rubbed his shoulder a bit, then looked to Gwip, who hesitated, then nodded. “Alright, you’re in.”
“YESS!” The foxfolk woman pumped her fist, before holding her hand out formally. “Elarra Masters. My friends call me Snowstorm.”
Shale took it, giving it a firm shake. “Welcome to the crew of the Mirage, Elarra.”
Gwip coughed loudly. “Alright, that’s enough formalities. We gotta catch a train to Shirewood.”
“Shirewood? Why Shirewood?” Shale was confused.
Elarra, however, was less than pleased. Her ears flattened, and her lips peeled away from her teeth. “Oh, you guys are desperate, aren’t you?”
“The bad kind of desperate, yes.” Gwip held his hands up apologetically. “Cuz, ya know. Repairing a race locomotive isn’t cheap. So… we’re gonna cut a deal with a man I would very much like to introduce to Sparky… but will restrain myself from doing.”
“Get in line. I’d sooner put an arrow through that hideous creature’s skull than entertain anything he might have to say.”
Gwip sighed. “Again, you and me both. Feeling’s mutual. But we’re short on cash, time, and connections. This the only option we have.”
“Guys, wait, hang on! I’m missing some important context here.” Shale cut in, a bit miffed. “Who in the Void is this person you’re ragging on?”
Elarra turned to look at Shale, pursing her lips. “The Earl of Shirewood? You mean you haven’t heard of Legatus Silverfist?”
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