ENGINEERS CREATE THAT WHICH HAS NEVER BEEN
Ulrik smiled, if you could call it that, at the little unicorn spawn of Mauja's who was still toting around one of his machines. He could see the gears in its side start to wear. Oil stains tarnished the otherwise pristine and polished sides. The young creature spoke to him (the live one, that is), and he tilted a dark ear, a brow raised on his wild face. "Well, but the journey from the Throat's borders was longer than I wanted." The stallion was not tired, simply irritated. Dealing with emotional women was like running nails on a chalkboard; it made you cringe and ultimately got you nowhere. He was glad the little one called for Psyche because he would have stood on the threshold until his horns froze over in waiting; he was not one for yelling. But when he did yell...

"You? How are you?" he asked, remembering that he was supposed to reciprocate conversation. Moments later, Psyche appeared, and he was at least pleased that she was giving some time to her herd now instead of running off and pushing children out of her gut. Needless to say, Ulrik's concept of bearing children from the female perspective is vastly off. She asked a question, and he answered, jerking his head to the shackled pegasus who was standing nearby, tethered.

"I brought her; for... eh... you know?" he said, trying to keep the Plague secret. Bronze eyes danced around from side to side, seeing if there were any listeners. "She is the Dragon's Throat eh... oracle, diviner... you know, of those who speaks with the gods."

Then, Ulrik saw Mauja approach and he quickly stiffened his stance, not wanting to appear an unkempt outcast who had fallen from grace. The bronze and charcoal stallion was glad that his pale leader had returned; something about women in a position of power made his hackles bristle. Both of his ears tilted forward curiously when Mauja moved closer into his personal space until he realized that his leader was attempting a normal greeting. Ulrik returned the nudge awkwardly, a charcoal ear shifting to the side. "Too long indeed; I am glad you have returned." The words were not meant as a slight to Psyche, but the implication rested there between the lines.

"Oh, you know her name?" he asked, furrowed his brows and turning to his blue prisoner. She had fought, but his stature and abilities had won out; she had not stood much of a chance. In fact, the mare was a fool to have fought so long; she practically injured herself. Why would no one come willingly?

Then, he stared out at caves in the distance, gaze narrowing as his mind began to wrap around blue prints and ideas, designs and creations. The rest of the cage was already made by rock. All the entrance would need was a gate and some sort of mechanism to make it open. A machine. Simple. And then, he could drop off the blue prisoner and go about his merry way.

"Have you ever thought of putting a gate on one of those cave entrances to make a prison?" he asked, gaze dancing between the eyes of Psyche and Mauja curiously.

ENGINEERS CREATE THAT WHICH HAS NEVER BEEN

[[Skipping Cass due to time; She is welcome to post just after]]


Ulrik's lips curled briefly when Mauja mentioned seeing the pegasus once before, and he grunted slightly. "Sounds like a nightmare," he commented, glaring back at the blue skyrat. Then, his attention focused entirely on the cave entrance, and he furrowed his brows. Cassiopeia still had the bindings on her legs, so he was confident that she was not going anywhere, especially with Psyche and Mauja standing to close. So, he wandered closer, finding that the cave was appropriately lined with rock. Excellent.

The wry smile and gentle offer for payment and the subtlety was completely lost on the intelligent brute. He was already diving into the sea of madness, consumed by his one goal of created a gate. "No need," he replied absently, glancing at the two of them before stalking off, stride more like a lion with the way his tall, muscular withers rolled beneath his charcoal hide.

Ulrik chose a cave that was not too large and not too small with solid rock on a narrow entrance. He inspected the inside to make sure that the small cut-out was not actually a massive room that, perhaps, could lead to tunnels for escape. No, it was entirely solid. Good. The stallion strode back out into the light and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as his mind constructed the pattern, the blue print off of which his magic would work.

Metal leaked out of ore veins in the mountain, and it began to take shape. The engineer stood perfectly still, eyes still closed. Parallel metal bars stood vertically, attached by metal cross beams that then punched their way into the rock, broken only by metal hinges on one side. Large, durable metal hinges that were locked from both sides. Finally, the locking mechanism.

He installed a little machine and a visual sensor that, after a few moments, stood waiting, pulsing a little, red light. Ulrik opened his eyes and then looked back, nodding his head over. "Let me teach you how to program faces into the locking mechanism. Only those you allow it to recognize will have access to open the gate. The gate itself is shut electromagnetically; without a proper visual, escape should be impossible."