Jacee growled at the mechanic, "I don't think so, pal. You're not going near my engines. Mechanic though you may be, no one but me touches the heart of Hell's Gate. The wagon will be fine, this is a cargo ship and we've hauled much heavier things than that and been fine."<br/><br/>She unrolled the scroll of the map, effectively declining to go along to the wagon, "Yeh, I'll buy whatever alcohol you have... Sounds like we'll need extra anyway," She studied the map intently, a frown working its way onto her face.<br/><br/>"If you'll excuse me," She stood quickly, "If this map is to scale, we'll be needing to take some sharp-ish turns. The wings will need some modification; I'll draw up a new design now." She glanced to Jeravous, "Think you can handle it? And keep your mouth shut about Hell's Gate. You don't see me insulting your work. Good day." She nodded curtly and stalked off to her quarters, the map clutched in one hand, the bottle of brandy in the other.