Ral - Powers machinery

          "I can hire a boy to clean my scuttle and launder my drawers for a half-bit. What else can you do for me?"

          Ral raised his hand and concentrated. Power crackled in his fingertips, then arced upward, to the big globe. The lightning inside blazed with light, its weak glow strengthening until it was as bright as the sun. The chain of gears running down into the workshop started to spin, turning faster and faster, smoke rising from their bearings. Behind the old man, a metal whine rose to a shriek, and then something broke with a tremendous crash.

***

The Gathering Storm, Chapter 11