Sawni
Sawni was, once more, up well before dawn. Today it was crawling beneath the service access underneath the main cutting platform for the sawmill, running the stout, oil-treated rope from pulley to pulley before splicing the ends together and reinforcing the splice with a leather cuff.
Flashbacks had been coming, brief ones, almost akin to hints of Deja-Vu as she worked with the heavy line. It was familiar. She couldn't recall why, but it was. Just like when she had snuck aboard the Zephyr ship and climbed the rigging. She knew how. It was embedded somewhere in her mind how to do so.
She checked over her work, turning the lashings for the leather cuff so they wouldn't come into contact with the pullies themselves to prevent wear. Once again, as the day before, she was covered. A mix of grease, oils, dirt, and sawdust. It was almost satisfying, though, indicative of a decent day's work, and it was still hardly a few hours past dawn.
She scurried her way out from the crawlspace and took time to find a clean rag to wipe off the goggles she wore for eye-safety. Having one good eye left means making sure it stays good, after all. She made her way to the hut that housed the big motor used for turning the blade. It was simple in design, she could recognize touches of gnomish influence in its craftsmanship. Oil was low, but still enough for a trial run, and a testament to the previous owners' sudden and unannounced evacuation was the service tank being decently full of some crude fuel. It smelled, once more, familiar.... She'd have to sniff around for it in Ironforge and get more.
Finally...moment of truth....
Primer set, ignition charge armed, the safety brake for the saw itself was locked to keep it from spinning.... She detonated the small charge to kick-start the motor. It cranked a few times, sluggishly, failing to turn over. She reprimed and set a new charge.
Five times, a sputter, and a stall.
She took a deep breath and reset once more.
The engine cranked slowly before the coils took over, finally purging the old fuel that had gone stale in the cylinders and sending the pistions into motion. Fuel and ignition took over for the starter charge and the behemoth roared to life.
She watched for a moment, keeping an eye on the moving parts to make sure nothing was running rough and in danger of shearing, then moved back out to the cutting house, reaching for the brake.
"Alrigh'...le's see how ya do...."
She released the brake. The pulleys caught the gears and with a satisfying whirr, the blade spun. Now...time to find wood and get the feeding system running proper... She reset the brake to slow and bring the saw to a halt before moving to shut down the engine.
