Issue 1 Downtime

In the Bellerophon's hold, a scientist was busy working of Talos' damaged joint. He was a Spaniard with small glasses, slightly curly black hair, and a small beard.

"My poor boy... I never wanted this for you," he said with a regretful sigh.

Mage-Captain hall had stepped into the room just in time to hear the words of regret.

"Never wanted what? Funding? Glory? To serve the crown? Would you prefer to have him rot in your ramshackle workshop?"

"He was never supposed to be turned into a weapon. Not that you people would ever understand," the doctor answered.

"There are no people like me, there is only me. Do not forget that he wouldn't even be anything if you had been without my help."

Sean didn't wait for a response from the doctor.

"I believe that the Brittanian empire will have many uses for him later but for now being the sword in our hand will have to do," Sean said placing a hand on Talos' damaged arm.

"And when they inevitably turn against you like they do everything they don't understand?"

"My family has served the crown for generations as counsel or soldiers," Sean said then smiled, "And the king wants to win this war and we are going to provide the means. Means that only I or one of my family can control or duplicate."

"My family served as well, even going so far as to betray their homeland for the empire. It didn't stop them from killing my son now did it?"

"Your life, mine, and your son's belongs to the Crown," Sean said, "You chose the Brittanian Empire. We got you out of that god forsaken country and gave you the chance to live a life of prosperity. You knew the price you would have to pay."

"Keep telling yourself that," he muttered and he kept working.

"Remember it will be tip top before we arrive at the meeting site," Sean said, "Your still living family depends on it, doctor."

He promptly ceased complaining.

"He'll be as good as new, don't you worry."