The Wayfinders - The Wreck of the Archon
SelcSilverhand
First Post
Kraken lifts the fallen furniture with a grunt and sets it upright. The little automaton freezes in place during the movement and waits. After he steps back it looks down at its leg and moves it experimentally. With a slight squeaking of gears that have been unused for several years it stands upright. The leg appears undamaged even after being pinned so long. Doral moves in closer to examine it from a better angle. Whisper addresses it directly. It looks up at her, then at Kraken. It has no mouth, but there is a thin band of steel with hinged at the ears shaped like a jaw. The head tilts back and forth and the jaw waggles with slight squeaks as an answer. It also holds up the broom for inspection to indicate its last command
Doral
[SBLOCK]
He can see a grill or vent at the rear of the machine. Inside is the glint of a sliver of dragonshard, no bigger than a grain of rice. Likely that is the source of the animating force inside of it. If he were to pry open the rear of it he could remove the shard. Doing so would most likely irrepairably damage the automaton.
[/SBLOCK]
Doral
[SBLOCK]
He can see a grill or vent at the rear of the machine. Inside is the glint of a sliver of dragonshard, no bigger than a grain of rice. Likely that is the source of the animating force inside of it. If he were to pry open the rear of it he could remove the shard. Doing so would most likely irrepairably damage the automaton.
[/SBLOCK]
Deuce Traveler
Adventurer
Doral says, "Our new friend is powered by a tiny dragonshard, but I have little reason to turn it off in such a crude way as doing so will result in permanent damage. I shall try giving him a simplified command and perhaps later we shall take him with us." Doral looks at the automaton and with difficulty keeps it simple, "Stay still."
SelcSilverhand
First Post
The automaton freezes in place, arms still upraised holding its cleaning instrument.
Whisper takes the broom from the frozen automaton, her face in a pinched frown. Such things always bothered her. They were supposed to be mindless, but she always wondered if it was so. Warforged weren't, after all. What would it be like to exist in such an abjectly servile state, without end, without hope of release? Without a mouth to question or complain. Unable even to dream of something better.
She sits down against a wall to get some rest and lays the broom handle across her lap. For now at least, the little machine could rest as well.
She sits down against a wall to get some rest and lays the broom handle across her lap. For now at least, the little machine could rest as well.
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