Munch's Workshop

Tenebrae - Wednesday, August 28, 2013, 6:44 PM

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-=--=--=--=--=<* A14: Sage Orum's Plaza, University District *>-=--=--=--=--=-

Named after one of Alexandria's most learned (and perhaps addled) minds, the new University District of the city contains a number of entertainment spots as well as areas of culture and learning. Though many structures and sculptures can be found here, two buildings dominate the plaza with an air of friendly animosity--the grand buildings of the Society for Progressive Arcanists and the Artificer's Guild.

Poised on opposite sides of the central plaza, the two face one another like old misers, each uncertain as to what the other's up to, and pranks between students are a rule of thumb. A series of levies and fines exists should they get too far out of hand, though at times the results may be spectacular. Performers often make use of the great plaza by filling it with music, and rare is the visit without passing a performer's hat or three, five, or nine. Likewise, ramshackle shops selling every sort of magic bauble line the ways, all of varying (and often questionable) quality. A grand statue of Sage Orum overlooks it all, his expression slightly perplexed perhaps, at its mixture of grandeur, invention, glass-filled baubles, and chaos.

At the far end of the area, is the city library. From public records to research into the history of the city and the region itself, there is much one can learn at the city library. Many stories tall, the building towers up over well-lit, tightly-packed cobblestone streets.

In the distance, the Redridge Mountains rise overhead in all their glory. At their peaks, one can see the airships docking, landing, and flying off again under the banners of not only Alexandria but many great nations.

Solace has arrived.

The directions are easy enough to obtain and follow. 'Head west from the Hall's north entrance, just past the Clockwork Swan. Bright red door in a white stone building.' More than a few have expressed doubts about the golem, and while rumors persist that he eats people, there's no first hand reports of this. Eating just about everything else, however, is quite confirmed.

Curiosity is one of Solace's many sins, and one of the only ones he still feels able to indulge to a significant degree. So when he finds himself at loose ends for a few hours, he asks around, and follows the directions down from the Hall, clanking along in his bright, shiny armor, and peering at the landmarks as he passes. At the red door, he pauses, looks around for any signs of sudden ambush, then raps sharply on the door.

The place is siomple enough, a plain sort of stone building popular in this area of the city. The door is soild, good construction, and completely unadorned. The voice from inside is unsuspriseingly muffled, but perfectly understandable. "S'open!"

Solace hesitates for a moment before opening the door. And when he does open it, it's cautiously, peering around the corner of the widening frame before walking in. "Hello," he calls out in a crisp, Charnese accent. "I apologize for interrupting, but I was wondering if I might find a golem who goes by the name 'Munch'?"

The workshop within is fairly standard. A simple stone room, workbenches along the walls with cabnets above. Small windows let in some light, the majority comming from a number of mana lamps in the corners. An array of tools and equipment are scattered about, much of it covered by dust sheets. The center of the room is dominated by a large workatable about waist high, Munch seated upon it. The golem is... in parts. His face looks a bit like someone who tried to eat a bomb. Just below the blue magicite eyes, the rubbery 'flesh' hangs in ribbons, torn and slightly twisted, with a thick black ichor weeping from the holes. HIs legs are similarly missing, flopping and boneless below the knee, splaying out at the bottom in fileted remains of feet. A assorted of bright metal pieces are scattered about the top of the workbench, an array of shapes, but the vast majority looking like something from a torturers kit. Knifes, gougers, scrapers, claws, fangs, grinders, and other sharp pointy things of no easily identified name. The majority hold the deep blue sheen of adamantine. Amoung it all is a large greataxe, the blade styled after a dragons head, with a wide sharp arc for a 'mane'.

The golem's voice is perfectly clear, his ruined face apparently not affecting his speech. "Yeah, this is the place. What do-... you're not a deliverly guy. Who are you?"

Solace stares, unabashedly, at the sight of the golem in pieces. Since it's speaking, the primary emotion the artificer shows isn't horror, but rather, fascination. It actually takes him a moment to process the words and their meaning. "Fascinating...hm? Oh! Oh, yes. My apologies." He steps further into the workshop, offering a bow. "I am called Solace. I am an artificer, recently come to Alexandria. I apologize for the presumption, but I'd heard that a golem resided here, and wondered if you might be amenable to speaking to me...what on earth has happened to you?"

Blue magicite eyes peers a moment before blinking, metal shutters scraping lightly over the surface with a soft 'click'. "Yeah, okay. Not like I've a lot can do just now. I'm working on some upgrades. Hit a couple snags, but think I've got it worked out now."

Solace fights the urge for his fingers to twitch, eagerly, but he can't resist asking, "Is there any way I could be of service? I've not worked on a golem before, but I'm not incapable in artifice." His smile is crooked as he walks closer in, studing the disassembled construct like a kid walking into a toy store for the first time. "And thank you for the time. What upgrades are you working on?"

Sandy has arrived.

Svarshan has arrived.

Munch buzzes softly, perhaps a laughs, and shakes his head, the ropey stands jiggeling. "Thanks, but nah. The macro work is all but done, is the macro system balencing that's giving me fits. Got three major system changes going on. One's a refit of the muscular system adjusted for a passive enchancement system, and one's a temporary velocity enhancement augmentation system. In laymen terms, magic muscles and boots of speed. Though I don't wear boots, so they're enchanted foots bones. Though I don't have them put back inside yet. All comissioned work, but seems to be working. Main trouble is the general systems upgrade scheduled in my root systems that's been conflicting with some of my chosen design changes. Mostly in the fangs."

Munch is holed up in a small workshop, not far from the Artificer's Hall, working to rebuild himself yet again. Solace has just dropped in for a visit.

Solace drifts ever closer. He's in a warehouse where Munch has broken himself down into little pieces for upgrades. "Fascinating," he murmurs, eyes wide and expression open with wonder. "The smaller, more complex systems of anything are often difficult, particularly if there's compatibility conficts. Ah...are you designing your own upgrades? I'd heard that you have been...created relatively recently, and I was curious how that happened. I've not seen an active Creation Forge in quite a while."

Munch nods. "Alchemy interface. Go ahead and grab a seat, there's some stools under the bench right there." A mild bit of warning in the tone. Looking is fine, but touching is quite something else. And a seated position may help resist temptations. "It's a bit of a tale, and I'm not sure all the deatils myself. How much you know about Gustav?"

A loud crash and thunder resounds behind Munch's shop. The raised voice of a khazad can be heard, followed by the shifting around of metal. Grumbling voices, and, "Did you have to bring THAT around front?"

"...sst. My...apologies," Svarshan's voice, warm and slow, and then the clatter and jangle of Srassha's distant mecate. "The work iss to be for her, though."

Silence.

Solace takes a stool eagerly, sitting down and resting his forearms on his thighs. "Not much," he admits. "I know Jessa hates it, and that it has a reputation for magnificent artifice, and seems to be a worthy place of visiting, but that's all." He glances towards the crash and thunder, head tilting slightly to the side as he recognizes Svarshan's voice. But. GOLEM. And STORY.

Munch perks slightly at the crash, and moreso at the voice. Crashes and explosions aren't exactly uncommon around here. "SVAR! That you? You got your Princess with ya?" The golem's lower legs are currently in parts, or he'd likely go look for himself. He nods in agreement to Solace, but remains distracted.

Stories about golems, and golem stories are awesome. If only they were on the west side. Then it could be a west side golem story. At any rate, Sandy has been on the hunt. The hunt for a particular half-elf artificer. Solace is not actually /that/ difficult to find on account of his unique look and she's been hoping to be directed to him. The loud crash of the lizard accompanying her has her turning towards him and glaring, "I can't take you /anywhere/ can I. You had to stop and shop."

Pause, then "SA!" cheerfully and slow. It causes another clatter and set of swearing, that reply.

"So what are we makin?" the khazad replies...a gruff, middle-aged smith who Munch may know...and there's more clatter, the shifting of metal and wood, the slap of hand against hand, flesh against flesh.

"Saddle. ...tack. Ssshe wants something..." Svarshan's voice pauses there, and then he grunts as though elbowed. "...festival," he says.

Solace droops as the story is distracted. He hops off the stool, though, and says, "Would you like me to let him," and then Sandy's voice can be heard, "ah, them, in? Is there a back door?" He turns to inspect for himself, already ambling in that direction.

Munch blinks again at the second voice. Well, third if you count the khazad. "-Not- the Princess I'd ment. Yeah, right there, small hall to a shared lavratory, back door's beyond." A rather unused door, since the golem has no need for such facilities, and the 'neighbors' aren't brave enough to visit.

The discussion gets louder as Solace nears the back of Munch's shop. The other smithy is just on the other side and...with the metal structures, sound can travel. And khazad have booming voices. The smith and the sith'makar have fallen to an intense conversation, and there's the occasional clatter of metal, the tinkle of it.

If Solace opens the door, he'll see a shop similar to Munch's...though probably less eccentric, less frightening, with fewer random, curved and sharp things poking out of nowhere...which is to say, likely very orderly and very boring. The khazad glances over and gives a wave with a forge-scarred hand before turning back around. Svarshan looks up too, and nods, Srassha just behind him and Sandy making her own gravity well, towards which all buildings lean. At least two of them will likely be a while in conversation. The sith'makar winks and says, "Festivalss."

See, Srassha wants pretty things for her tack.

Solace does open the door, and returns the khazad's wave with a grave nod of his own. Another, a bit warmer, is given to the adventurers. "Munch says that you're welcome to visit, if you should like. I suspect he would extend the offer himself, but currently has no legs." He's cheerful about that, so it's /probably/ not because someone forcibly removed them.

"Oh, /there/ you are," says Sandy, eyes turning towards Solace when he does wave at the Khazad they happen to be near. "'SCuse me a moment, Svarshan. I actually have something." She makes her way towards the shop in question, "Don't mind me," she tells them, "Carry on." And wit hthat, she produces what appears to be a small bag from her LARGER bag and hands it to Solace.

"This is for you," she tells him.

"Or I can visit in there. Not totally immobile." Munch offers, though he's yet to rouse from his spot. "Hello Sandy."

Solace takes the bag with a lifted eyebrow. "Ah...thank you? Unless this is some sort of hidden explosive, in which, consider me shocked and horrified in advance." His smile is brief, and he looks about to retreat into the golem's workshop again before Munch speaks. He turns towards the golem. "Oh? Do you require assistance?" Again, that hopeful lilt to his voice again.

"'Ello, Munch," says Sandy. She does seem quite interested, of course, in the golem's working parts. She tilts her head to the side. "I'm sorry I interrupted. Carry on," she gestures, "I presume you two had some business you were conducting."

Inside the bag, should he look, appars to be a bunch of gears and bits and bobs related to making something. It's an artifice jigsaw puzzle! It's definitely something /specific/.

Munch reaches up, simply grabing a rafter and lifting himself easily, more than strong enough to bear his own weight without difficulity. Reaching over to the next rafter, he moves around withough much trouble, braceing one arm against each wall in the short hallway. "Nah, I'm fine. And we were just chatting. You ever been to Gustav, Sandy?"

Svarshan looks up and sort-of grins, the sort-of because the races are very different, and actually grinning? Would show a row of teeth. So the corners of his mouth turn up instead, and he manages a nod before returning to the khazad...still, his gaze wanders off to the bag Sandy just deposited.

Pause.

He looks directly at Solace for a moment. I will help you if that explodes, that says, and then he goes back to discussing something with the khazad.

In the middle of it, Srassha steps off into the poor man's shop somewhere.

Solace does look in the bag. How could he not look in the bag? "Oh, my," he murmurs, with a thread of eagerness running under the surprise. "This is...it looks quite intriguing. Thank you, Lady Sandiel." Less wary, more genuine, that. He closes the bag to watch the golem move. This is just a banner day for curious artificers! "Munch was, I believe, about to explain something about the place," he says, happily, to all and sundry.

Munch mmms absently, peering around a moment, but, finding no real good place to settle, seems content to just hang around. Though his various missing parts ooze dark ichor, none seems to actually drip off the golem. Likely to the releif of anyone who might have to clean later. "I was made there, but don't actually know the place real well. Didn't exactly get out much. Anyway, yeah, like you said, place is all about high thinking and logic and all that. Big honor for great minds. Well, sometimes those great minds go old and senile. So there's an Old Nut House where they go to wait out until they die. I mean, that's not what they call it, but everybody knows. Anyway, all these old nutters who used to be big shots, sitting around, talking about the glory days, and trying to remember how it all works. Few projects come out for the benifit of all, but mostly just junk. Anyway, you familiar wiht Sage Brew? I don't really hear of anybody useing it around here."

"I've got an uncle who lives near the border of Gustav. But that's about as close to it as I've ever gotten," says Sandy, shuddering. Gustav. The things she's heard! She look towards Munch, then, squints at him. Listens. "Go on, though, and tell the tale." And a quick, curt nod towards Solace. Then to Svarshan. Innocence. She is pure innocence.

Rummaging noises. Srassha comes trotting back and crosses the view of the doorway with something great and shiny in her jaws. Shiny. Lovely. Sparkling.

Mithril.

She presents this to the khazad, and...well. Svarshan completely misses Sandy's look. He goes very quiet. And then looks at the Princess.

Shiny, she seems to insist.

Ohboy.

Solace leans against a wall, with the soft clink of steel on stone. "It sounds quite interesting," he murmurs, with a disapproving look at Sandy's shudder. "And I've never heard of Sage Brew, but the name suggests I wish to." He glances at the giant lizard with the mithril, and snickers, oh so quietly.

Munch nods, and shrugs. "Isn't just one thing, lotta versions, but most are sorta like a tea. Never tried it myself. Very illegal, not that that stops anyone. Anyway, you drink some, or snort it or whatever, and it makes ya smart. Like, genius smart. And if you're already a genius, makes ya supergenius. For a little while. Then it wears off, and ya get dumb. Dumb as you were smart. Dumb wears off after a long while, but never all the way. So, take more Brew to get smart again. Bigger dose, stronger dose, smarter than you were before. Take another dose, before it wears off. Super smart. But, eventually you run out, or fall asleep, and it wears off, and you go really dumb. Forget how to use that thing you built. For why pushing the red button is a bad idea. That sorta thing. Anyway, couple of guys get together for one last hurrah. Smart already, but fadeing. So they brew a huge-ass bunch of Sage Brew up, chug it all down, and get to work. They don't know what they're doing. Don't know what exactly the others are working on. Nobody else has a clue. Early morning hours, they're done, and I'm just starting to activate. And they go dumb. Ultra dumb. Too dumb to remember breathing's important. Or why they shouldn't spill ink all over those notes."

Srassha thrusts the shinymetal forward with an eager push, her Princess-eyes wide and eager. So shiny, that look seems to say. So PRETTY. GORGEOUS. Did she not deserve to be pretty? And gorgeous?

Her rider takes a slow breath, and by now the khazad's grinning through his beard, the earlier surprise, and mess, forgotten. "Good against demons, too. ...just something I heard," he says hastily. Not that he's trying to sell this. At all.

So FIERCE.

Silence.

Despite Munch's tale, a tail which could ONLY exist in Gustav... Svarshan doesn't even notice. He's too busy watching the liquidation of all his worldly assets.

FIERCE.

I am GORGEOUS and COURAGEOUS and FIERCE.

And Sandy leans back as well, studying Munch and listening to the story for hte time being. She is certainly interested.

Solace's eyes light up at the mention of the Brew's positive effects, the half-elf's mind clearly whirring with the possibilities. Then the down side is explained, and his brow furrows. Hmm. He nods, slightly, as if understanding those fading researchers' actions entirely. He does, however, say, "That must have been a peculiar situation to awaken to life in."

Munch can hardly argue. His own protective layer being mostlt mithril as well. "Was pretty confuseing, yeah. I mean, I wasn't like a newborn, I knew stuff and could talk and things. But putting it all together took a while. I mean, even when I figured out they were 'dead', it was a while before knew that wasn't going to change."

"Interesting," muses Sandy, glancing towards Svarshan. She squints at hm, consideringly, then adds, "You're going to get in trouble." That is all she says. Then she adds to Munch, "So what exactly arey ou doing? Here, I mean." She gestures to his legs.

"And, of course, they hadn't left any instructions for their creation, because it was far more about doing a great thing than the consequences of that thing," Solace says, dry and almost weary. "It's a pity their notes didn't survive...I've never even heard of anyone building a golem without the use of a Creation Forge." He strokes the line of his jaw, and leans forward to peer at the exposed bits and pieces of Munch. Even the prospect of huge amounts of money changing hands behind him can't distract the artificer from the possibilties, here.

Srassha nudges the metal forward, and the smith...with a thoughtful, glittering eye at the sith, who says not a word, takes it in mitts that have seen the forge for a lifetime of generations. "Oh, I'm sure we can make something pretty."

Silence.

Svarshan rubs at his muzzle and returns Sandy's look, much as a softskin might rub at their face and forehead. "...nrnnng. She may decorate the...mecate."

The khazad and the swift share a look. The swift's eye is pure joy. I SHALL BE GORGEOUS.

"...the druids know how to bond it to teeth, you know. I could make a--"

"Sstop."

But it's too late. Srassha's eyes are wide and wider.

I CAN HAVE CHOMPY TEETH.

"Now. ...I am in trouble," low-voiced. Svarshan looks down at the ground a while, and up at the man. "...for your hatchday, Sssrasha."

I WILL CRY, says that look. I WILL CRY IF I DO NOT GET TO BITE THE DEMONS.

Munch shrugs. "Installing some enchanted foot bones. I don't wear boots. Abrahil made them for me." He nods to Solace. Some of the notes survived, but not much. The Creation Matrix was a one shot thing. No clue what it was made from. Were a few other bits, but nothing really useable." He nods firmly to Svar. "They do really good with the fang-binding. Espically the guy who lives next to the mushroom patch. Though all my fangs are in the other room."

With a low whistle, Sandy says, "Those things are bloody rare as it is." SHe pinches the bridge of her nose, then says, "OI've heard nothing of the sort anytime recently myself. Fascinating." ANd she turns towrs Svarshan. And then eyes Srassha out the door because, you know, -lizard-. "Do I need to turn you both into iguanas?" she mutters, then back to Solace and Munch. HEr interest is definitely piqued.

Solace now does look at the other shop, and particularly at the khazad. "...you are a rather wicked man," he says, but with a tone that suggests approval. With a teasing smile for Svarshan, he tells Ssrasha, "You would look magnificent with mithril teeth." Because poor paladins are fun paladins. He turns back to Munch. "That's remarkable. Truly remarkable. I don't...suppose you have the surviving bits of notes?"

Svarshan looks at the swift for a long, long time. And then he looks towards the khazad. And looks towards the swift. Towards Munch. And... "Sandy. ...would you like to go hunting in the Hellss?" he asks.

Because Srassha looks sad. So sad. So...

He drops his muzzle to his chest, then glances up and sideways. You are all making my life hell, this says.

Munch shakes his head. "Didn't understand they were important. Not until a lot later. Wandered upstairs, helped out the other old nutters. Plenty of heavy lifting they couldn't do. Kept busy, learned new things, started to understand, not just know. Eventually, visitors got curious, story got out, government came for an 'accessment.' Figure if there's any notes left, they took 'em." He ponders a moment. "still curious if the Levathian are designed after me, or my build was inspired by them.... anyway, by that point knew enough that an 'acessment' wouldn't end well for me, so ran away. Ended up here in Alexandria."

"Fascinating." Solace's fingers drum on his arm, and one can almost SEE him calculating ship rates and assorted expenses to Gustav in his head. "Well, I hope that you've found Alexandria a welcoming place," he adds, a touch belatedly, when manners override his private considerations. He glances back over at Svarshan and Ssrasha, and says, idly, "I recall a runted Trygon which used to fight in the Abyss'a Arena. It was an unlovely creature, but for every kill it gained, the arenamasters plated several scales in gold, making shining patterns all across its face and down its sides. It was quite a sight."

Svarshan glares at Solace. GLARES at him. Then...then...takes a deep. Deep breath. The other forge grows quiet as the khazad and the sith'makar fall to negotiating price. Srassha hangs on their every word, her eyes wide and anxious and... and...

Eventually, the giant reptile can take no more and she heads towards the other people she knows, squeeezing mightily through the door with the screech of metal and scale...and pops into Munch's shop. She sidles up to Solace, who is wise beyond his years, magnificent and who recognizes her as the wonderful and pretty princess she is and who has the most wonderful ideas on Ea and just...quivers. Like a child who is hoping, HOPING she gets a present.

Hanging. On. Every. Word.

She is not subtle.

A large lizard-thing that chomps on demons and causes trouble? No idea why Munch likes Srassha so much. He nods to Solace. "Lot of stuff I still don't really -get-. Bunch like the place overall. Always something new to do or fight."

"Trigons," grunts Sandy.

She is clearly remembering something unpleasent. "I fought one of them once. When they were new to Abyss'a. Terrible things." She shudders., hands going to her arms. "Not something I want to repeat. You know. /Ever/."

Since the Speaking Incident, Solace has been much more kindly inclined to Ssrasha, and actually doesn't flinch or attempt to hide when the giant, evil-chomping creature comes up to him. Instead, he reaches up to give her a tentative scratch beneath the chin if she will allow it, and says, "I imagine on /you/, gilded scales would be a beauty beyond compare, of course. How could it not, when magnificence itself is the canvas?" It's hard to tell if he believes any of that, but his flattery voice is well-practiced. To Sandy, he smiles a bit. "Terrible, but magnificent, if you look at it from the point of view of the work and artifice that went into their creation and breeding. Perhaps less so if they are attempting to eat you at the time."

Something Munch says, though, strikes a chord with the artificer. He nods to the golem. "It's a peculiar place at times. Now...I must ask. /Have/ you eaten sentients? Rumors abound, but you've not shown any particular inclinations in that direction that I can see." And this is apparently a perfectly acceptable question in his mind. It is, after all, SCIENCE.

Munch perks up. "Wait, Trigons?" Apparently Solace's accent threw him. "Oh man, I really want to meet one of those things some day. They sound -delicious-." He nods casually to Solace. It's no big deal. "None that weren't trying to kill me, and always dead first. A corpse is just meat. Though I don't do it any more. One of those things I don't really get, but people seem to think it's important."

"Much less so. Being eaten is definitely no on my list of things I want to experience again. Been there, done that. Don't want to do it." Sandy shakes her head. Even for SCIENCE! Then to Munch, she continues, "...delicious. You want to /eat/ one?" she asks, warily. "They probably taste bad."

Munch shakes his head. "They probablly contain a wide range of complex and exotic protines I havn't encountered. By internalizing these materials, I can analize and potentially replicate some of their properties within my own system. To me, that counts as 'delicious'."

Solace doesn't seem particularly bothered by Munch's habits. He just nods his head, committing the information to his growing mental file on the golem. "Not necessarily," he says to Sandy. "I don't think many people have ever tried it. It could taste delicious." He doesn't sound entirely hopeful about that, though. He pushes himself off from the wall, and says, "Unfortunately, I need to be returning to my work. Munch, it was a delight to meet you. Sandy, Svarshan, it was good to see you again." He bows to them all, then makes his way out.

Solace has disconnected.

"Did he just say it was good to see me again?" says Sandy, puzzedl.

Munch shrugs. "He might have ment Svar and Srassha, but I think so, yeah. Why?"

"Had to've,"agrees Sandy. Her eyes go back to Svarshan. She snorts.

Munch eyes Sandy a long moment. "Is this one of those 'flirting' things? Because that's another area I don't 'get'."

The debate finishes, leaving the reptile...

Scowling.

Srassha quivers before letting out a bugle, and looks as though she might break into a dance right then and there. She looks at them each in turn, her eyes bright, bright...

Svarshan closes his mouth and then just folds his arms, smiling faintly at the smithy's floor. "Sssa. Saaa. Sso. You sshall look very nice, Srassha."

Deep breath, and he looks their way. "Perhaps. ...ssince you have been ssso fortunate. You sshould help Sandy pick out her. Outfits."

Srassha's head raises. YES, says that look. YES. WE WILL DECORATE HER WITH GOLDEN KNIVES.

FIERCE!!!

Svarshan has left.