The Cartigraphic Personnel Delineator
The communications stones had been acting up for days. Whether it was coincidence or caused by the Gnome, Arsonite’s reappearance didn’t really matter. It had given Bjorke an idea, to increase security in her operation. Instructing the diminutive engineer to meet her in Ratchet, she took her usual table, in the back.
“I need you to modify the locater function on the ‘stones.” He hadn’t designed the communications system, but had enhanced it to track the whereabouts of Sterling members. In the Guild Hall, a large map blinked with the location of each person, even if they switched off the sound transmission. Each member could access this information, providing back up and assistance to any in need. She was quite proud of her security system, and it had saved her people many times.
Arson took out his notebook and began writing furiously. “To what specifications will the Cartigraphic Personnel Delineator be attuned, specifically?”
“Mine must be set to show that I am in Ironforge, Stormwind, or Outlands.” She paused to make sure he understood what she was really saying. “Ironforge, Stormwind, or Outlands,” she repeated. “And only there.”
Adjusting his goggles, Arson looked up at his Commander. “Indubitably. And for what purpose will this alterfication specify?”
“It’s for security purposes.” Her tone was even, assuring and confident, and she gave him a small smile, the kind she reserved for important clients, and diplomats.
His head bobbed as he wrote down the required changes. Making various rapid calculations, he muttered to himself for a few moments. “I shall need supplies.”
“Truitt can see to your needs.”
Arson paused and looked up, adjusting his goggles once more. “Several of the complex materials may be exceptional and could possibly attract unwarranted solicitations, which may be judiciously handled by your own personage.”
Bjorke put her elbows on the table and leaned forward, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. Listening to this gnome was like a stiletto to her head. Sorting through his jumble of words, she caught his meaning. “Very well. Send me a list of whatever you need. I’ll see you get it.” She looked up at him, glancing at the schematic he was already sketching out. “How long, do you think?”
“My estimations may varicate due to availabilities of the requisitioned aforementioned materials. However, a week should suffice. Perhaps 10 days. No longer than a month.” He continued to scribble away.
“A week. Truitt will see that you have access to the panels in the hall. Understood?” Her voice brooked no argument.
“Indubitably,” came his response.
She left him there, still figuring, deep in thought, and headed to the flight master. She had miles to go, and people to see.
