One Man's Trash...

A short flight later, and they were setting down outside of a small community that was built next to a precipitous cliff that marked the edge of the island. Superficially, there wasn't much of a difference from the rest of the towns that dotted the landscape, but as they got closer, Mike noticed a few differences.

The buildings, at least the ones that were still standing, were obviously designed for people walking on two legs, and didn't seem to have any accommodations for the flying Asani. The reason for that was pretty apparent when he saw that the inhabitants of Skyridge were almost exclusively land-bound humanoids.

Much like in the city near the crystal spike, which he realized he still didn't know the name of, the people here were slowly working to rebuild their lives after the devastation caused by the attack and subsequent crash onto the ocean's surface.

As they walked into town, they attracted a few suspicious glances from the populace, but no one seemed to have the time or the wherewithal to pay them much attention.

[Judging from the number of buildings, there should be at least a few hundred people here, but I'm only seeing a fraction of that actually involved in the rebuilding efforts. They must be doing something else.]

The set up bothered him a little. Considering the size and nature of the Asan, and the level of organization of the local authorities, it should be next to impossible for something like the smuggling of contraband goods to actually be taking place. That wasn't even taking into the account how logistically difficult it must be to move their product while riding on a flying island with a seemingly random flight path.

If the smugglers actually did exist, then they could only do so if those in power allowed them to. Maybe the Elders saw a need for the controlled introduction of Asani technology into the world, or perhaps they allowed Skyridge to continue in their activities under observation so long as they avoided going too far.

Whatever the case was, it didn't concern him too greatly. If he couldn't find anything worth picking up here, then he would simply go back to the central city and try again.

Eventually they were called out to by a large man who was in the middle of moving rubble. He looked a bit like a burly innkeeper, complete with a rather impressive gut, but something about the way he carried himself suggested that he was more of a fighter. "You folks aren't from around here. What are you doing in Skyridge?"

The man's tone was neutral, but it was clearly a challenge. Suspecting that he'd stumbled across one of the people he was looking for, Mike used Appraise.

-------------------

Roger Comstock

Age: 48

Race: Human

Class: Brawler

Title: Reformed Bandit

--------------------

"Yes, we were actually directed to this town by a couple in the city. They suggested that this would be a good place to try the local produce." He answered using the code phrase he was given by the storekeepers.

Roger's eyes narrowed suspiciously for a few seconds, evidently evaluating them, but then nodded. "Alright. I can show you where our town's farmers sell their best stuff."

That was the reply phrase which meant they would be taken to one of smuggling dens in town, and allowed to peruse the products they had for sale.

The man led them to the ruins of a barn slightly outside of town. Judging by how decrepit the wooden frame seemed to be, it was likely in disrepair long before the attack. A small section had been cleared of debris, revealing a trap door that Roger opened and started descending through without another word.

They walked down a spiral staircase for several minutes before the passage opened up into a large cavern that may have once been natural, but had been heavily modified by its current inhabitants. A vast majority of the chamber was dominated by a complex apparatus that seemed to be designed to raise and lower small boats through a hole in the floor.

Under normal circumstances, this tunnel must have led out of the bottom of the Asan, but there was currently a pool of seawater that was threatening to flood the chamber, and only a barrier of desperately applied sandbags had kept it from doing so at this point.

A small army of smugglers were currently engaged in holding back the flood, no doubt fearing the resulting devastation of their goods, which were packed into crates around the cavern. Roger led them to a small office built into the wall near the entrance and spoke to the man sitting inside. "Customers from the city."

The thin and slightly frail man behind the desk nodded, evidently dismissing their guide, who promptly left, before standing and introducing himself. "I'm Hurston Lowe, and I run this particular site. Ordinarily, I'd hand you off to one of our agents who handles the more commercial side of our enterprise, but I'm afraid you came at a rather bad time."

Appraise backed up his statement.

-------------------------

Hurston Lowe

Age: 47

Race: Human

Class: Administrator

Title: Gifted Accountant

--------------------------

"Yeah, we can see that." Morris commented dryly.

Hurston offered a thin smile in response. "So, I must warn you now that, depending on what you are looking for, you may have to come back later. While I might oversee operations, that doesn't mean I have categorical knowledge of everything we keep in stock."

[Judging based on his mannerisms, the complexity of the records he likely keeps, and his title; I doubt there is a single item here that he is not aware of. So, is he planning on giving himself plausible deniability in the event we ask too much of him?]

It's also possible that the smugglers were working with the Asani government in some way, and may have a means of quietly reporting individuals who look for certain things.

"Of course. We are mainly interested in two kinds of goods, books and magic items. As far as books go, we really only want to see something along the lines of a general history or background, especially if they are written by an Asani author. However, if you have any containing particularly valuable information, we'd like to see those as well."

The smuggler frowned. "That's doable, but most of those will be written in their native tongue. For outsiders like yourselves, I am not certain they are that helpful."

"We'll worry about that. Anyway, the second thing we are looking for are magic items or devices that have been made using Asani technology."

"Ah…I see. Is there anything specific you would like? I'm afraid we are rather limited on that front due to the strict regulations that govern their trade."

Mike thought for a second. He was hoping that the man would allow him to search through his collected inventory and find something that fit his needs, but he guessed a careful individual like Hurston would be hesitant to give a stranger free reign in his warehouse.

"Then, do you have anything that allows one to digitally interface with a larger analog system?"

That earned him curious stares from the rest of his party. While the words may have made sense thanks to his Communication Magic, it seemed unlikely that exact meaning had been imparted. The smuggler on the other hand seemed to have an idea of what he was talking about, although he appeared to be undecided about it.

After a few seconds, he muttered. "…There is one thing I can think of that might fit your specifications. It's old and in disrepair. Quite frankly, we didn't have the resources or the technical knowledge to maintain it properly, but you can take a look at it and see if it's what you are looking for."

Mike nodded. "That will be fine."

"This way, then."

Hurston took them back out into the main room and then through a large set of double doors into what must be their warehouse. Carved into the side of the cavern were long hallways lined with massive and heavily reinforced shelves which bore stacks of crates. Or they would have, if not for the obvious fact that the crash had left them in as much disarray as the rest of the island. Here, there were more of the smugglers working on cleaning up and repairing the damage, but it was clearly an ongoing process.

"As you can tell, we are still in the middle of surveying the full damage." Hurston yelled back at them over the noise. "So, I can't guarantee the item I'm thinking about will be intact."

Eventually, he led them back into a deserted storeroom that looked to have been full of junk even before the accident. Now, it was little more than a chaotic collection of broken machinery and scrap metal.

Sighing, the smuggler began pushing his way through the debris until he arrived at a crate that had been pushed into the far corner. Using a crowbar he'd brought with him, he leveraged the box open to reveal its dusty contents.

"As you can see, it's not in the best condition. I'll be honest with you, I'm not certain it's even operational, but you can probably get an engineer or artificer to get it working again."

Mike nodded wordlessly while examining the device. It vaguely resembled the vitals monitor he saw in hospitals back on Earth, complete with a variety of cords and wires that extended from its back and ended in flat pads or clips. However, the display was broken in a few places, and there didn't seem to be any means of inputting commands.

"Where did you get it?" He asked while using Appraise.

-----------------------

Asani Control Module

Hybrid (Tier 2, Rank 2)

This device is designed to serve as a bridge between untrained users and more archaic magical items that would otherwise require specially trained experts to activate and maintain them. As it is meant to work with a wide variety of equipment, the module is capable of modifying practically anything that relies on mana to function. However, such options are limited to the original specifications of the object and requires extensive mana input to make lasting changes.

Due to extensive wear, this particular device has degraded to a certain degree, decreasing its functional mana efficiency. This has also lowered its rank from 3 to 2.

-------------------------

[Well, it sounds like it works at least.]

Hurston consulted his clipboard. "This particular item was acquired along with several other pieces as part of a salvaging operation. Apparently, it is the product of a failed attempt to create miniature versions of the Asan to be used for scouting and trade missions."

"So, there are other parts that came with this?"

"At one point yes, but everything else has either been scrapped for parts or sold individually."

"Why is this thing stuck in a junk closet, then?" Morris asked while picking up one of the device's wires, exposing a patch of corrosion that was likely caused by seawater.

The smuggler sighed. "Honestly? It's not a product that most of our clients are interested in. A control module is really only useful if you have a magical device that is complicated enough to require an interface, but common enough that non-experts have access to it. So far, we haven't found anyone that could benefit from it. Also, it's a bit too valuable to simply dispose of."

"That sounds pretty reasonable, but why does it feel like you are attempting to unload a failed product on unsuspecting customers?" The bard shot back.

"Hey, if you don't want it, you are welcome to leave." Hurston replied calmly.

"What do you want for it?" Mike asked suddenly, interrupting the exchange.

"Ordinarily, I would ask for ten grand, but considering its condition and the fact that it's been sitting unused for a few years, I think I can knock it down to five."

"Five thousand gold?! For this pile of junk?" Morris exclaimed.

"Take it or leave it."

Mike reached down and touched the display with one finger, pushing a bit of mana into the device. His efforts were rewarded with a brief glow.

Straightening, he announced. "I'll take it."