As the platform rose higher and higher into the mountaintops, the world disappeared in clouds. None of the passengers could see to the other side of the platform, much less below. Some of the pedestrian groups waved their arms about, while a child started laughing and running about. With the exception of the staff, none of them had experienced this before, and every part of it was magical to them- from the way the lack of visibility made them feel like they were soaring in powered flight, to the way the water coalesced on every surface, to the taste of the clouds on their tongues. One of the passengers, a larger kind of rodent, seemed especially pleased with the feeling of moisture and laid down contentedly, as though the cold did not matter.
Without preamble, the craft stopped moving upwards, giving everyone a momentary sensation of weightlessness. Many passengers screamed, fearing that the novel craft would hurtle towards the rock faces below. Despite this, the craft remained stable, and the screaming died down. Then, the craft did descend, causing a second bout of screaming as the cable that the platform hung from led it gently downwards rather than up. After a few moments, the passengers calmed as the clouds gave away once more. Ahead of the platform was still the reliable line of metal crooks holding the cable they relied upon, and beyond that lay a crucible. Not a crucible of fire- a a crucible of lights; a city nestled in the high mountain valley.
The town glowed with red and yellow lights. Heat, steam, and smoke poured out as though from a stovepipe, forming a thick layer of cloud above. The clouds were darker closer to the city, covering the city in perpetual gloom. The buildings of the city were both enormous and multitudinous; multi-storied buildings sprawled out to all sides of the basin with few gaps to be seen from the vantage of the platform. There were some gaps that seemed to be channels, while others awash in the unnatural light that coated the city. Movement could be seen, even from their distant view. Large constructs such as cranes, elevators, and large rotating machines were frequent not just in the industrial sections, but many other parts of town. There were also a number of large mine entrances, cavernous holes in the sides of the mountains that were the lifeblood of the city.
“We are now entering the city limits of Hearth!” The conductor called out. “Please be ready to brace once again as we enter the station.”
The conductor went on, calling out instructions for all the passengers to make sure all paperwork to enter the city was in order. The guards at the bottom may have cleared them, but it was easier to have the passengers themselves carry the paperwork themselves into the city for recordkeeping.
Sam, Elody, and Hugh gathered near the front of the platform to take in the view together.
“So,” Sam began, “Think you can learn something here?”
“Yeah,” Hugh breathed, “I think I can.”
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“Arright!” Sam said with a clap as he addressed his employees. “Here’s the plan. Hugh, you spend the day scoping out where you’re going to be learning about these doohickeys.”
He twirled a hand in the air to gesture to the many machines and gizmos that populated the city.
“Other than that, you don’t have any duties for now. Which means you, Elody, will be pulling double duty.”
“Wait, what?” Elody asked incredulously. “Hey now, didn’t you use to run this show all by yourself?”
"Yep, but now I’ve got employees to take care of the legwork while I focus on the important things.”
“So what, you’ll have me dance like a fool again?”
“In a city like this? Don’t be daft. We ain’t opening for business to regular customers here. Far too likely we’ll just become a mark for someone who knows their business around a lockpick. Yer number one task is to babysit the goods while I go round and make some deals,” Sam explained.
Elody blinked at him.
“That’s it?”
“Well, when I do manage to secure some deals, then you’ll be the one to haul the goods where I tell you to. I know a good place to park this thing and stable the girls during our stay. Speaking of which, you’ll hafta take care of them, as I know you so love to do, as well as doing any other errands that occur to me.”
Elody groaned. As they traveled, he had shown her how to take care of the hairy yaks that pulled the wagon. They were ornery creatures, and seemed to go out of their way to frustrate Elody. Any time she tried to feed them a treat, they nearly snapped her hand off and would huff at her when she went near. They would never sit still when she brushed them, and threatened to stomp on her feet forcing her to carry herself with excessive caution in their presence. Sam insisted it was just a matter of time as they became acclimated to her, yet they seemed to have no problems with Hugh.
“My guess? They think he’s one of them!” He laughed as she asked about the discrepancy.
Elody shuddered as she contemplated the drag that would be her stay in Hearth.
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Hugh could not be more excited to be in Hearth.
He had been cut loose of all responsibilities so he could focus on learning more about gears and mechanics during their stay, and he wasted no time in looking around for places to learn more about this new skill. He recalled the Gear Barrow that the guards from the lodge mentioned, and set out to find it.
Hugh was quite the strange sight to see in the Ratkin city of Hearth. The streets were made for and occupied almost exclusively by Ratkin, so the low overhangs of buildings frequently posed an issue for the towering Frostwalker. People stared as he went lumbering by, many stopping to whisper in each other’s ears. The cloud cover above frequently resulted in drizzles and showers that left the cobblestones slick and shiny, and the strange glass orbs that illuminated the streets were often at his eye level, causing a great amount of discomfort.
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Despite these would-be frustrations, he was amazed. Everything was new and foreign, a source of amazement and curiosity. The residents of Hearth were as interesting to him as he was to them. Despite seeing Ratkin in Mego, he had been secluded from them. Now, he was up close and personal and could see such a vast variety of them, noting the differences and similarities.
Most of the Ratkin had dark fur, either black, grey, or brown, but every twenty or so there would be another with other colors, like white, rust red, or even dusty purple or sky blue. Their tails were also of great interest to Hugh, as they were sometimes as long as they were, or not long enough to reach the knees of their quasi-digitigrade legs. The way they held their tails was clearly a matter of individual expression; while some let theirs drag on the ground, many had their bend upwards in a curve to avoid this. Some swished their tails, while others kept theirs limp. One resident dressed in outrageous garb even held their tail and swung it around in circles, seemingly disregarding the world with their strut. Hugh found the ears of these people- whether they be rounded or pointy- to be unfailingly endearing, and idly wondered why they would have ears in different shapes at all.
Just as the residents were fascinating to him, so too were their abodes. The large, blocky buildings made from composite materials of metal, stone, glass, and wood were something he would never have dreamt of. His only point of comparison was his village's home, largely simple dugouts covered in fired clay and wood. The inclusion of metal was striking enough, but what really stuck in his mind was the height. While there were a couple of larger buildings in his village- the village center even sporting a second story and basement- the thought that so many buildings could be erected in such regularity boggled his mind. It made him think about what makes it possible, and mentally noted it among many other questions he would ask once he found a suitable tutor.
The city was laid out roughly in blocks, with streets mostly intersecting in perpendicular fashion, making for reliable navigation for those who were familiar. Hugh was not familiar, and found it quite disorienting. Navigating was never one of his strong suits- one of many reasons he wasn’t a hunter- but instead happily let himself get lost in the city sprawl. He remembered the name of the Inn that Sam had chosen- The Slippery Jack- and so continued to plunge into the city.
The city was reacting to Hugh’s presence, a rumor swept through the populace faster than the lumbering Frostwalker himself traveled. Many locals hurried away to tell their friends and loved ones about the strange creature meandering the streets. As Hugh went along, stopping frequently to closely observe some common local sight, a bubble formed around him as many Ratkin chose to distance themselves from him, but also wanted to see what he was doing, forming a ring-like crowd around him wherever he went. Hugh had no point of comparison, and so assumed this was normal behavior, and paid no attention to them.
This crowd made a barrier of entry for Ratkin who wanted to see him. Were it not for this voyeuristic mass, he would have sooner seen that the streets were not just occupied by pedestrians, but also a rudimentary vehicle that was becoming popular. Unfortunately for the large curious creature, bicyclists veered away from the crowd, keeping them out of his view.
After wandering the streets for what seemed like weeks, he began to ask where he could find the Gear Barrow. To his surprise, he was quite close to it, having wandered in roughly the correct direction to it. Only a short two blocks away was his highly-anticipated destination. For the first time since entering the city, he moved with purpose as he sped towards his hopes and dreams.
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Malthus was an older man, and was quite satisfied with himself. He had found success in life, becoming a clockwork engineer when he was young and quickly becoming one of the preeminent figures in the field. His magnum opus had been as lead designer for the Sky Ferry, only recently operational. With that success, he had retired from design and had decided to become an instructor, hoping to cultivate the minds of tomorrow with the tools to achieve what he had done, and more.
Things had not been as simple as he had romanticized, however. He had dreamt that he would be a well-known enough figure to command respect to the youths, but he had forgotten a critical element in that equation: They were youths.
He rubbed his eyes with weariness as his students emptied out of the teaching hall. He had spent no small sum in establishing his campus, not only buying enough buildings to make room for the teaching hall and workshops he and his students would require, but also advertised its existence to the whole city, ensuring that as many people as possible would enroll. While he had gotten his wish, he simply underestimated how much work the paperwork of such a job would entail. The sleek black fur of his youth had developed stark grey streaks, and was transforming fast. He silently thanked the goddess of solitude that he had never wished for a partner as he regarded a new streak in his fur.
He sighed, and slumped back in his chair. The blackboard behind him was filled with the day’s notes as he tried to explain what were to him quite rudimentary concepts. Instead of discussing differential gears, so that one may more precisely control the speed of rotation, he first had to explain rotational speed, the types of gears and how they interlock, gear reduction and more before he could talk about even these simple systems. All of it was alien to his students, and it was his job to explain it all in excruciating detail. He was well aware that his pedagogy needed heavy rework in subsequent classes.
Malthus had been secretly hoping that he would get a class that had at least one exceptional student, someone who would just stand out at a glance, and would pick up concepts as quickly as he put them down. Instead, he was blessed with a plethora of students who were smart, yes, yet none were the equal to the crack-shot he was at their age. He had no doubt that each and every one of his students would pass, but they would need time. They asked deeply insightful and relevant questions, so even when he wondered why they need ask, he was grateful every time a paw shot into the air.
Still, he wished he could have someone who could keep up with him. None of his peers ever could, and he secretly hoped a student could. While he was wishing, he wished that student could help bring something new to the field, something revolutionary, so that he could see the field transforming just as he made his exit. And, still wishing, he may as well throw in that they be like him, focused on the love for his work, and not the love of others. He knew he oughtn’t, but he secretly resented his peers for marrying someone who took up so much of their time. Yes, they were happier, but they worked with him less, and he was selfish. So long as he was wishing up the perfect student, why not indulge?
The door at the top of the slanted hall creaked open, a huge and lumbering figure squeezing inside. They were no Ratkin, nor any other creature Malthus had ever seen before. He froze as the enormous figure steadied themself, and leveled their gaze onto Malthus. Then, it spoke.
“Is this… the Gear Barrow?”
Malthus didn’t know what to make of this, so he nodded.
“Y-yes,” Malthus started with a trembling voice, before taking a moment to compose himself. “Yes, this is the Gear Barrow. I am Head Instructor Malthus. How can I help you?”
It seemed odd to Malthus that this foreign man had wandered into this place of all places. Malthus would have been more frightened, had the figure not spoken. If nothing else, such a creature could be reasoned with. Clearly he was not lost, so what could have brought him here? Was he trying to weasel his way into a connection? There was no way he just so happened to be curious about the local contraptions and overstepped boundaries as he sought to know what they were, at this particular time. Was this a monsture luring him into a trap. He did show some intellect, so that was feasible. But if they were intelligent, then what if they were a prospective student? A ludicrous idea that Malthus immediately struck from his mind as it came up, only to humor it again. Surely, he couldn’t have come from wherever he was from to enroll, right?
“My name is Hugh Stonegazer. I would like to enroll here and learn as much as I can about gears,” Hugh said simply.
Malthus sat there, mouth agape.
There was a long pause as he sat there processing what had just happened. Then finally, he responded.
“What the fuck.”