Editing Working pages (section)

==Gadget==
Gadget met with Wrecker and Reggy in an upstairs room where they tracked the development of criminal enterprises. Despite his rough exterior, Reggy had once been a decorated police detective before his world fell apart. His skills had lain dormant until he came to Baltimore for Gadget.

Two large boards dominated the room, cluttered with photos, notes, and strings of different colors connecting key figures and operations. Gadget had never seen such an intricate web of information; detective work wasn’t her forte. Sitting quietly in the back corner was the formidable presence of Special Agent Lisha. The stern expression on her face did little to inspire confidence. At the other end of the room, Wrecker had several dozen firearms laid out, each in various stages of cleaning.

Gadget walked by, eyeing the collection. “You know, Wrecker, a cleaning spell, even a simple cantrip, would do a better job than you.”

Wrecker nodded. “Clean, yeah, but it leaves everything dry.  Didn't you listen to Rafe about oiling fire arms?  I know you do it.  I've watched you clean weapons like you were taught.  Of course you're a sword girl. Look at this.” He handed her a long bullet, one used in a .50 caliber. It was larger than anything she had fired before. “That’s an M33 ball round for the M82. A training round, really, but it’ll put a hell of a hole in a meat target. Remember that world with the dinosaurs? This is what Reggy and I used to put down that T-Rex. It’s all we had at the time. Good range, decent stopping power.”

He handed her another round of the same size, this one with a black tip. “This is an M8 armor-piercing round. If I’m shooting a dinosaur, a Kalac, a lizardman, or a human, the M33 will do fine. But this one—this is for buildings, vehicles, and dragons. Both will ruin your day.”

He pulled up another round and a file. “See that groove? Barely a scratch. But at a hundred yards, that could throw the shot off by inches, even for me, especially in a dry barrel.  These beasts heat up a barrel fast too.  If I’m shooting a car, I want precision, and I don't want it to jam. A scratch inside the barrel? That could shift the impact by a foot or more. And if I’m aiming at a dragon, I want to hit an eye, not graze an ear. So, I check every barrel and every round. A clean spell could do part of the job, but I need to oil them too. I’d rather go over everything myself.”

Gadget nodded and moved on, reminded of the meticulous weapon care drilled into her by Lord David and Rafe. Magic swords required little maintenance, but guns were a different beast.

She turned to Reggy’s boards, noting his dour expression and the mostly unsmoked cigar in his hand. “What am I looking at, Reggy?”