D&D 5E [D&D 5e] Planescape - In Through the Out Door

[Unsung]

"Excellent!" Halo rasps. He steps back a few feet, giving Eurid room. The hood doesn't lift, but instead seems to follow the soft shadows cast through the haze-filtered daylight.

Nukri shakes his head and turns away. "All heart you are, Dustie, all heart," he mutters. "Leave you to it, then. Your life and his, after all. Come on, lads, the dead won't keep 'less we find 'em first!" He trundles off. One of the other collectors lifts the cart and follows him, as do a few others. A few remain behind, Halo and Surok among them.

Surok looks miserable, but straightens his shoulders in a bid at dignity. A big man, for a half-starved collector, his jaundiced-looking orange skin, small tusks and violet eyes suggest mixed elf and hobgoblin ancestry. "Right. How we doin' this, then?" he asks gruffly.

Another collector, his face a mass of bruises, reaches down and picks up a chunk of mortar. "Hells, I been lookin' for an excuse to peg you one an eckinal's age, Surok! Allow me, eh, Duster?"

 

[Shayuri]

Shard chuckled at the question posed to her and shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Whatever your primus is, it is entirely unrelated to me. Is that the name of your creator?"

The drama farther up the alley didn't escape her attention either. She looked past the strange animate device for a moment, a faint frown of consternation creasing her forehead.

 

[KirayaTiDrekan]

The drone, Rusty, mimicked Shard's head movement, swiveling its face-plate-mask back and forth, which had the effect of showing off just how much of its head is missing.

As if to itself, its voice is quieter, "Creator? Create? Primus? Primus create...Rusty?"

It took a few tentative steps, its body full of odd joints that no humanoid creature had business having. The process of moving created a cacophony of clicking and whirring as all those joints were put to work.

 

[goatunit]

Eurid scowls at the sorry state of this mongrel, then at Halo and the other fellow who are so eager to mock his misfortune. He pulls a gold coin from his purse and offers it to Surok.

"Go and have a hot meal somewhere, cutter," he says, turning his back on the lot of them and preparing to tell his new friends that it looks like they'll be walking. When he sees the latest addition to the party, he scrunches up his nose.

"No, no no, no," he coos. "That's enough lost puppies."

It's unclear whether he's talking to the party or to his god.

 

[Fenris]

"No, no no, no," he coos. "That's enough lost puppies."

It's unclear whether he's talking to the party or to his god.

"Ok, you heard the man, throw him back. No more puppies, kittens, or other baby animals, mechanical or not. No more That's it back into the trash with him and any other Rusties we come across." directs Oz sternly before turning to Eurid with a grin, 'Ok, now do you know of some blind orphans we could steal from? Maybe a crippled widow to beat up?" he adds with a laugh in his voice.

 

[goatunit]

"I take your meaning," Eurid answers, still grim. "But that's a bleedin' barmy-box. A working modron has enough curiosity to kill a hundred cats--nevermind one that's dripping Styx."

He looks around at the others, seeing their reluctance to abandon the thing.

"Alright, well... not exactly where I'd go to for lesson number one, but have it your way. Modrons are to law what devas are to good and 'loths are to evil. They're planeborne. And moreover, they're all just the one big modron, rummy? The Primus is their hideous old god-king, and they're all eh... like, pieces of it. So when a cogger goes barmy, that's a smidge o' Primus' power unaccounted for. And you can bet a baatezu that whatever this berk forgot, the march ain't forgot it."

"Besides," he adds finally. "It's got no feelings to hurt."

[sblock]Translation:
Bleedin' Barmy-Box = f'ing crazy modron
Dripping Styx = has amnesia
Deva = Angel
'loth = yugoloth = "demon"
Planeborne = Planar entities of inhuman intensity re: alignment
Rummy? = Understand?
Cogger = Modron or resident of the plane of Mechanus
Barmy = Crazy
You can bet a baatezu = It's a sure thing
The March = The Modron hivemind

Caveat: I don't know if the above is necessarily true, particularly in Unsung's game. It's Eurid's understanding though, right or wrong.[/sblock]

 

[Fenris]

"I take your meaning," Eurid answers, still grim. "But that's a bleedin' barmy-box. A working modron has enough curiosity to kill a hundred cats--nevermind one that's dripping Styx."

He looks around at the others, seeing their reluctance to abandon the thing.

"Alright, well... not exactly where I'd go to for lesson number one, but have it your way. Modrons are to law what devas are to good and 'loths are to evil. They're planeborne. And moreover, they're all just the one big modron, rummy? The Primus is their hideous old god-king, and they're all eh... like, pieces of it. So when a cogger goes barmy, that's a smidge o' Primus' power unaccounted for. And you can bet a baatezu that whatever this berk forgot, the march ain't forgot it."

"Besides," he adds finally. "It's got no feelings to hurt."

[sblock]Translation:
Bleedin' Barmy-Box = f'ing crazy modron
Dripping Styx = has amnesia
Deva = Angel
'loth = yugoloth = "demon"
Planeborne = Planar entities of inhuman intensity re: alignment
Rummy? = Understand?
Cogger = Modron or resident of the plane of Mechanus
Barmy = Crazy
You can bet a baatezu = It's a sure thing
The March = The Modron hivemind

Caveat: I don't know if the above is necessarily true, particularly in Unsung's game. It's Eurid's understanding though, right or wrong.[/sblock]

Oz lets out a long laugh as he does a little jig on his cloven hooves. "Mate, that there fairy is the biggest little ball of entropy you are ever going to find. She hangs around it long enough, it will either break a cog or move on down from Primus to seventhus or further. Chaos always corrupts law. It takes too much energy" the satyr laughs. "Anyway, caveat emptor noted, maybe we can put some mittens on it until it learns to play nice. Now, your little gaggle of lost souls here seems direly in need of some wine." adds Oz with a grin.

 

[KirayaTiDrekan]

"Mittens. Wine." Rusty mimics, though it can't grin.

 

[Pembinasa]

Standing again and brushing off his knees, Graydon looked down and nodded in satisfaction. This 'Primus' must have been a very skilled golem-crafter, with the sense to make his instructions take precedence over anyone he sold them to- the golems' 'prime directives', so to speak- and derive his pseudonym thereby, so nobody could catch him out on it. THAT's thinking like a wizard! I wonder if he's still around... and I wonder what went wrong with this one? Because surely, a hollow head can't be intentional.

But then the local started talking, and Graydon turned his head to pay close attention. And once the spiel was over, the young wizard waited a moment... then slowly raised a hand. "Did anybody besides the faun understand that? They're playing their little slang-games again, and I could use an interpreter. All I managed out of our guide was 'Barney-box, and I'm pretty sure that doesn't mean what it does at home."

There was something about a 'god-king' in there somewhere as well, but what kind of sense did that make? It'd be like a Duke-baron, doesn't the higher title cancel out the lower? All this 'religious' business gets so WEIRD, honestly.

 

[Fenris]

"Oh yeah yeah Grayman I got it. You see what the duffer, er pardon me dustman right? Duster? Dusty was saying was that the box was bleeding, so it is leaking, but instead of blood, some kind of mechanical fluid, called barmy. See? Now this barmy fluid powers the thing but once it is outside the box you call it "sticks", erm, I think because it is sticky of course. "

Oz pauses a moment "Oh yeah and god-king, well come on that one is self-explanatory, this thing was made by some self-righteous, egotistical tinker who, simply because he made something unnatural move, thinks himself a god. And so our little machine here mighten' not play nice as it hasn't feelings, or empathy, or emotions, or sense of fraternity, tolerance, kindness, consideration, or sympathy. So it might just castrate you just see what goes on in your little hairless balls." ends Oz with a smile