Lost for Words

Rude Mechanical

On the island of Lemnos, Hephaestus was hard at work in his forge. He was engaged in a special commission for Zeus - a great warrior intended to protect the people of Crete. As befitted a task set by the father of the gods, Hephaestus had used only the finest materials in the construction of his automaton. He had sought out copper from the Fertile Crescent of Persia. He had traded with the barbarians of the Northern Isles for zinc. These Hephaestus had blended in his furnaces, using a process known only to him, to create the finest brass.

When the ingots were ready, the god of smiths had then set about beating the metal into sheets. The sheets were then shaped into the forms of limbs and torsos, and the joints soldered with lead to make them watertight. And all the while Hephaestus had recited bells to instill the necessary virtues into his creation.

"It shall be strong," Hephaestus grunted as he hammered the great limbs of the warrior into shape.

"It shall be cunning," the smith declared as he put the finishing touches to the head of his creation.

"And it shall fear nothing!" the god bellowed as he filled out the automaton's torso.

At last, the great work was almost done. The brass warrior stood fully ten times the height of the tallest man - taller, even, than Zeus himself. Its forehead was high and noble, indicating a great intelligence. The detailing on its body was brilliant. In short, it was perfect.

"One, last thing," Hephaestus muttered. From his stores, he took a barrel of golden ichor and upended it, pouring the fluid through a valve in the giant's heel. As the ichor flowed into its new vessel, the deep thrumm-thrumm of a beating heart came from within the brass form. Hephaestus laughed in delight. "Now my work is done!"

The god took the now-empty barrel away and sealed the valve in the warrior's heel so none of the precious fluid would leak out. Then, Hephaestus stood in front of his creation, assumed his most authoritative demeanour and roared, "I am Hephaestus - god of the forge and your creator! I name you Talos! Hear me Talos, and obey my commands!"

There was creaking, groaning noise as the brass warrior - Talos - flexed and shifted. It lowered its gaze towards Hephaestus, and stared with emotionless eyes at its creator. Then, it raised its right arm, clenched its right hand into a fist and extended its middle finger in a gesture of defiance as old as time.

Well, Hephaestus thought. I can see this one is going to be trouble.