<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/dy2egH8.jpg)<br/><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Clio Dewalt</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Roaming Faire Child Invoked</strong>: [ ]<br/><strong>Traveling Seeker of Eldest Knowledge Invoked</strong>: [ ]<br/><strong>Metal Weaving Child of the Forge Invoked</strong> [ ]<br/><br/>[ ] Bruised <br/>[ ] Bruised <br/>[ ] Bruised <br/>[ ] Injured<br/>[ ] Maimed<br/>[ ] Taken Out<br/><br/><strong>Conditions:</strong><br/></div></div></div></div><strong>Location:</strong>Professor Durgan's Workshop<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>All<br/><hr/><br/>Clio winced at the mention of long hair and a bandsaw. "That is beyond stupid. First time it catches and she's down a head."<br/><br/>The description of Conroy being strapped for cash draws a low hum from her. "Makes sense that in the beginning he couldn't get funding. I bet those prosthetics of his take a lot to craft and fit."<br/><br/>A pad of paper was dug out and the owl's shell was carefully set aside in carefully documented locations before she began the long and drawn out process of cleaning the gears that ran the bird. The runes on the gears had her pausing, tongue sticking out as she transcribed them and their location. Sitting back and staring down at the cleaned and spread owl she frowned, fingers drumming against the table. "It's odd." A few pieces are slotted back into place and she gently turns gears setting the owls wings to fluttering. A few more pieces and she shifted gears to set the head turning. "The body works. No catches. No hitches. Smooth motions for clockwork. But something's missing."<br/><br/>Leaning back she chewed on the tip of her thumb as she stared at the bird. "In the story it's a gift from Hephaestus. The markings though... Norse. If a replica then it's an attempt to match the first. If it is the first then added afterwords?" Moving away from the table she paces back and forth chewing on her thumb, face scrunched up in concentration. "So if the gears work then... Needs Hephaestus's touch?" Spinning around she marches to the table and reaches out, a single finger poking the gears of the owl's chest. "But. For starters there is no way any sacrifice I'd be able to dig up would match this thing. And if it's a replica even attempting could upset the Great Smith. Maybe."