Inside, the weapons runner snorts, examining the sphere for a bit. "Not much, sadly. It's nothing I'm familiar with." She pokes it and prods it, occasionally putting bits of alchemy to work on it. "Seems to be actual brass, if that matters much." The sphere spends a few seconds seemingly growing out new layers, or perhaps shedding water quietly. "Well, that wasn't what I expected. Too bad it told me fuck all."<br/><br/>Ironsides takes a drag of a pipe. "I don't really know where the fucker has gotten to. He wierded out early this morning and ran like a pack of simhata were after him."