The Inventor (pt 1)

Writers: Yvonne
Date Posted: 30th May 2024

Characters: Oselle
Description: A very strange man turns up at the Weyr with something special to show Headwoman Oselle.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 1, day 13 of Turn 12

"Headwoman?"

Oselle looked up at the light knock on her open office door. Amarella, one of her assistants, stood just past the opening with an unreadable expression on her usually expressive face. Oselle set aside her pen and mentally cursed the interruption. "What is it?"

"There's a man here to see you. He arrived with the last Caravan and is insisting that he has something important to show you."

She wasn't expecting anyone. How odd. "Did he give you his name or a reason for wishing to meet with me?"

"All I know is that his name is Darret. He didn't mention where he's from." The other woman hesitated. "He's _very_ insistent. I tried to schedule him in for you tomorrow but..."

Oselle suppressed a sigh. Of course it was a _man_ who wouldn't wait. He was probably still covered in road dust and smelled to the high atmosphere. From the non-look on Amarella's face, whoever this Darret was, he was causing no end of grief to her staff. Oselle frowned. "I suppose this is as good a time as any to take a break. Where can I find this Darret?"

Amarella broke into a relieved smile. "He's currently in the Dining Cavern. He's got a very large green hat with wherry feathers around the band. You can't miss him."

The assistant Headwoman was right. Oselle spotted Darret immediately and not just because of the ridiculous wide-brimmed hat on the table beside him. He looked like a gangly, road-worn scarecrow with his bony limbs, scraggly reddish beard and red-blond hair that stood up at all angles as if he'd been stuffed with straw. His sleeves were at least three fingers too short and the knees of his trousers were inexpertly patched.

His eyes lit up as she approached, and he bounded to his feet. "Headwoman! I'm so pleased that you agreed to meet me!" He grabbed her hand and gave it a massive shake.

He reminded her of an extraordinarily tall, overly excitable canine. Oselle retrieved her hand and gave it a surreptitious wipe on her skirt. "You must be Darret. My assistant said that you wished to meet with me?"

He started speaking before the last words had made it out of her mouth. "I promise I won't waste your time Headwoman because I know you're a very busy woman but I have the most marvellous thing to show you, but you'll need to come to the wagon barn with me. I hope you don't mind?"

Oselle waited a beat to make sure that he was finished talking. There were few things she detested more than people talking over each other. "Not at all."

Darret sagged with relief, just like a wet pretzel. He grabbed his hat and held a hand out to usher her before him. "Thank you so much for giving me a chance and hearing me out. I wasn't sure you would. I know I'm not Technician, but my grandmother was-- is-- and she helped me put this together. I've tested it at home so I know it works."

**Oh dear.** That was not an auspicious start. "You've-- please excuse me, but I don't quite follow." The Headwoman squinted as they stepped into the summer sun. Although it was bright, it was still cool enough that she wished she'd brought a shawl.

"Don't worry, you will! Let's just say that I have brought you something that I promise will _revolutionize_ the Lower Caverns." Darret continued to chatter on as he led her toward the Stables, but Oselle tuned him out.

Every few months it seemed like someone showed up with some sort of invention or gimmick that was supposed to improve work but usually ended up immediately breaking down and making things worse. Still, Oselle found herself curious-- more because of the man who was doing the selling than whatever his idea was. Darret, she decided, was quite ridiculous.

He was still blabbering on when they entered the stables quite without any input from her aside from the occasional, 'mmm' or 'ah'. Darret led her immediately to a wagon parked near the entrance. Something large and vaguely square was wrapped in an oiled burlap tarp.

Darret leaped onto the wagon and whipped the tarp off the thing with a flourish. "Ta da!" A metal horn gleamed from the top of a contraption that looked like a meat grinder, only it was large, bulky, and had no handle to grind meat. "Isn't this amazing!?" Darret crowed.

"I don't know what I'm looking at," Oselle said flatly.

Darret pushed on, undaunted by her tone. "It's a steam powered sausage maker! No more cut fingers, sore arms from turning cranks, or long, laborious days squeezing chopped meat into intestines for your staff! All you do is light a fire, add a little water here, throw meat into the horn and out comes all the chopped meat you need to feed the Weyr. I have an attachment you can screw on to force the meat straight into intestines so you can spend more time smoking the finished product than making it. This thing works great for fresh ground meat too, like for meat pies!"

"You made a small... steam engine?" Oselle said weakly. Visions of explosions and walls splattered with ... sausage ... danced in her head. "For _inside_?"

"It's perfectly safe, ma'am-- er, Headwoman. I used it in my own cothold. Would I have used something dangerous with my elderly grandmother sitting in her rocking chair right next to it? No sir-- I mean ma'am-- I mean Headwoman." He grinned, revealing a missing back tooth.

The missing tooth did not reassure her. "We have done just fine with our usual grinders, young sir--" Oselle began, but was greatly annoyed when he interrupted her, _again_.

"I know what you're thinking-- 'but Darret, why would we need an automatic meat grinder when I have a whole kitchen's worth of staff with sharp knives?' Let me tell you-- the meat that comes out of this is always evenly chopped with no weird chunks of gristle to be found. Plus, you know as well as I do that it takes all sorts of bits and animals to make a good sausage. This makes it as easy as pie-- hehe, pie! I mean, this makes it so easy to grind up several beasts and mix them seamlessly into the perfect meaty blend to satisfy and amaze even the pickiest of dragonmen."

"I still do not think--" Oselle began, but was interrupted _again_.

"I know, I know." Darret held up his hands placatingly. He was starting to look a bit desperate. Even his hair was beginning to deflate. "It'll take up space-- but just think of the space you'll _save_ by reducing a big job down to a task for two-- or even just one if they are clever! Or maybe you're worried about cleaning it? This whole thing comes right apart and can be put back together by even the clumsiest of Candidates." He patted the metal horn. "I even wrote a manual that shows where every single screw goes in. And the screws-- did I mention that my grandmother is a Technician? She personally cut the threads for each screw so you can be assured of their quality."

The Headwoman pursed her lips. "What I am concerned about, young man, is safety. Steam boilers are not the safest of contraptions, especially indoors."

"My dear Headwoman, would I try to sell you a device that would cause harm?" Darret turned wounded, puppy-dog eyes her way and pointed at a knob painted bright blue. "The safety valve is right here in case there is too much pressure."

The novelty had worn off, and Darret had stopped being vaguely amusing and started being plain old irritating. "Let me think on it. How long are you at the Weyr for?"

Darret's freckled face split in a huge grin. "The next three days at least. I'd be happy to show any Technicians you have my device, if you want them to check it over before you commit. But only after they sign something that says they won't steal my idea."

**There's little risk of that,** Oselle thought. The usual method of meat grinding, which involved knives, a hopper, a grinding wheel and some good old fashioned sweat, had served them perfectly well until now. Still, she nodded-- mostly to keep him from talking more. "I will keep that in mind. Good day, Darret. It was a pleasure to meet you."

Darret swept his ridiculous hat off his head as he bowed. "Likewise, Headwoman. I look forward to furthering our relationship!"

She nodded crisply before retreating to the safety and warmth of her office. A shawl waited for her, as did her pen and the next sevenday's draft work schedule for the Lower Caverns. She settled into her chair with some relief and contemplated ways to avoid Darret until he left. Meals in her rooms, bathing in the upper bathing pools...

Then someone knocked on the door. It was an assistant cook named Leron, and he had a dreamy look on his face. "Headwoman? I hate to bother you, but I just ran into a man with the most _interesting_ idea for a steam powered meat grinder..."

Oselle sighed.

Last updated on the June 6th 2024

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The Inventor (pt 1)