The Mechanical Era

Samuel and Victor woke up next to each other on their shared bed. Both the mattress and pillow were made of hay. Like any man living in the city, they scrubbed and cleaned their teeth using rags and charcoal, giving them a great white shine.

Once they both got dressed up in their attire, they came down the stairs to have their morning breakfast. Today was the day. The day they started work on the mechanical device Prince Kant had tasked them to build. Their plan was simple; make a smaller model of the mechanical device first, then figure out the nuances of it to make it into a reality.

Being artisans, they kept planks of wood, nails, and tools in the workshop storage in the back. They used them for other crafts they knew how to build. After carefully picking their equipment, they grabbed the blueprints that were handed over to them and started building a model.

It took about an hour to build one. Victor and Samuel started to examine it. The model replica was much smaller, as to save precious wood. Despite the blueprints, they still needed to look at it from a 3-dimensional plane, to help them figure out how to move on.

"Looks like our best bet is to split this up into 3 separate main parts, and focus specifically on designing that part in particular first. We can then find a way to combine it." Samuel remark.

"Agreed. From what I see, we need to specialize in 3 parts. The moving type, the upper plate, and the press itself."

"There is a problem with the moving types. It says that it is made of metal. We might need to commission some from the smithy. For testing."

"I can go ask for some on my way to deliver this letter. A smithy won't be far away from there. Just use wood for a test substitute."

"Alright then, that is settled. Now to the next part. The upper plate. It's not too complicated. Just put some hinges in the right place, and a frame under it for the paper to be placed, and it will be done easily. We can move on to just the press itself then.

It looks like he did adopt one similar to the screw press. It uses a handle to turn a wooden screw that presses it down. Should be simple enough. We do have a lot of experience with them."

"Is that it?" Victor asked.

"Yes, it is. We can start working on this now."

The two worked on the device for hours. While Samuel worked on the upper plate and frame, Victor worked on the wooden moving types. Once that was done, the duo built the press itself and assembled the device.

It had only taken them the entire morning and half of the afternoon to do so. But once it was complete, they attempted to test it out. A test that revealed to them the multiple problems and the areas they had glossed over.

Victor was given the honor of placing the moving types he had made. When he tried to put them in, he found that the ones he made were all inconsistent. In reaction to this, they looked over at the blueprints.

"Hey, Vic?"

"Yes, Sal?"

"I think you might want to read this." Samuel showed the blueprints to Victor. He pointed at the area of the moving type with his index finger, to the small paragraph Kant had written for both of the Petersons.

"The moving type needs to fit into this hole and needs to have a consistent height for it to work the best. I recommend each being 2.33 cm tall." Samuel read out loud.

"The man had thought it through. Too bad we didn't notice it before. Might be because it is too small." He chuckled.

"Well, good thing we did notice it now. Imagine if we didn't when we go to order the metal types. We will pay lots to have the smithy toil on these small things only to find that out that they won't be usable because of their height."

"That reminds me, Victor. Don't you have to deliver that letter?"

"Why yes, I do. What time is it again?"

"Wait here. Let me check the sundial." Samuel grabbed his sundial and went outside to check the time. The clock read 3 till sunset. Samuel headed back inside.

ραпdα nᴏνa| сom "Victor, I am afraid that our crafting session together will have to be interrupted. You got to go deliver that letter to her."

"Good luck brother. We should ask the smithy tomorrow!"

...

As the workday came to a close, the sunset slightly turned the sun orange. Many people went out to the inns to have a conversation with their friends, along with gulping a pint of beer or two. Sat alone on the corner, however, was an ordinary knight.

Silvester was one healthy young man, with only a few little wrinkles on his forehead. He had short messy hair, after all that fighting, coupled with a matching pair of sharp amber eyes and a strong chin to go with his face. To protect himself, he was protected by a chest plate, leggings, and two iron gauntlets on his hands.

He had gone through her day like everybody else. After slaying a bunch of demons with his sword and sorcery, which consisted of giant white wolves with goat horns, naked women with wings and bird legs, the recent wave of just birds with an angry woman's face, and a lion with an eagle head, legs, and wings. He came over here to relax.

Or, that was what it seemed to everyone else. He was there because he was waiting for somebody. His eyes focused on the door, waiting for the man who will deliver him the message for the next step of the plan.

The door opened once again, this time a bald man with a thick mustache. He knew who he was, and sat straighter for his arrival. Victor had asked where the bartender where was. His finger pointed at Silvester. With that, Victor thanked the man and came over to sit beside him.