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Winter of Storm and Shadow: Interlude #5
Pushbroom Afternoon Snozzle Windburner pushes his broom around the 'secret' laboratory of his employer and whistles an elven tune. His employer is tinkering inside an oval metal box and occasionally throwing unneeded parts out onto the floor. When he does, Snozzle's workmate, Viscomore, rushes out to pick up the piece and put it back in its appointed place. As they work, the two play a simple game to see who is the quickest on their feet. When the boss throws a part out onto the floor, Snozzle races to push some of the dust onto the part, knowing Viscomore will have to dust it before putting back. Like clockwork, the boss throws a piece of copper tubing onto the floor. Snozzle stops whistling and rushes headlong at the fallen tubing, his broom pushing up dust as his feet drive him forward. Viscomore, closer to the tubing and desperate to not have to do anymore polishing, dives head first at the tubing. Instead of getting the dust on the tubing, Snozzle manages to get his co-work all dirty. "Three for me." Viscomore says, wiping gem dust off his full face. "Four for you." Snozzle shrugs and leans into his broom, collecting some of the dust he had just scattered. "Makes no mind, I am still winning." Viscomore gives a loud harrumph and stands up, shaking the tubing at Snozzle. "You won't be winning long if you and bossygove up there don't take a shine to the new king! Ingot's here to watch us 'til Garnett comes back. That's if he ever does." Snozzle shrugs again. "Boss knows better then us. He thinks ol' Ingot ain't... well he ain't jokester enough! Name a prank Ingot pulled." "He turned Cobblemill into a big worm on her birthday! Ha!" The sound of clanging metal on stone surprised both gnomes and they turned, running for the fallen brass plate. Again Viscomore wins and he hold up four fat fingers, points to himself, holds them up again and points to Snozzle. Snozzle rolls his eyes and leans on his broom. "I meant before he became the big mayor." "Well you know I can't name another. What different does it make?" Snozzle is about to say something more when he looks up at the oval contraption. Borogove is there looking at them both with his left hand on some lever. When he pulls the lever, flame shoots out of a projector near the front of the cylinder. Snozzle ducks but Viscomore's hair is set aflame. Dropping his parts he runs around, patting the flames out with his hands. "Hmmph, better adjust that," Borogove says before diving back into the cylinder to continue his work. Snozzle pushes a pile of dust over to the fallen parts and coats them in the gleaming gem dust. Looking at Viscomore he holds up six fingers, points at himself, then holds up two fingers and points at Viscomore. "Yeah, yeah," Viscomore says sourly as he moves to get his dust cloth. 
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