Steamcart Meet

Tenebrae - Friday, September 02, 2016, 6:46 PM

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-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A02: Goblintown *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

'Goblintown' consists of a dead-end street where a number of poor (and, as the name suggests, goblinoid) residents of the city live. Many of the buildings here have been cobbled together with whatever material was available at the time, often bits of metal and stone stolen from the factories to the north rather than wood. That said, in recent days, many of these temporary structures have been converted to more permanent fixtures, giving the area a less 'shanty' and more 'conventional' appearance, interspersed with the previously impoverished look the place was known for.

The occasional shrine to Reos seems to represent the only 'official' presence in the area, with the City Watch seeming all but invisible here. In their place, there appear to be numerous Arvek and Gobber groups that form a makeshift community watch, giving the sense of wary eyes on every street. From time to time, the symbol of Serriel may be seen as well, though mainly among the Arvek, who oft bear it with pride.

At one point there were few shops here, but now the entire area bristles with brisk trade of things ranging from basic necessities to the more esoteric magical and bits of artificery. It is said that one can find everything they need in Goblintown without having to step foot in another section of the city, and this statement, judging by the activity in this area night and day, may very well hold true.

A bizarre, steam-driven, walking affair that wanders around the city. When settled on its spider-legs, the doors open to reveal a small kitchen. There is a small counter, soup tanks on the roof, and so on.

Fazahd pauses in mid-sip from his mug. "I see," he says, and comes arond the counter to take a seat on the stool next to yours. His hand must have brushed some mechanism, for the stairs retract and the structure's open front slides closed like a very large pair of wood and iron screens.

"I like to think of society as something akin to a machine. It must be built. It can fall into disrepair if it's not properly maintained. And unfortunately, it can be broken. I have personally witnessed both of the latter happen. Knowing that, I try to be mindful of how my actions affect the people around me, and to do what I can, in my own small way, to contribute to the maintenance of the society I live in. I think that is a burden that is especially heavy for artificers. We are the holders of a power that is capable of great things, both good and evil, that people have rightfully feared in the past, and so we especially should be good stewards of the public trust. I have also seen what can happen when our hubris blinds us to that reality."

Aria says it all in her usual ever-pleasant voice. Her tone doesn't seem to change easily, even if the weight of her words themselves does. "And thankfully, with some of the recent crises that have faced this city, we have been able to contribute. I myself was able to play a small part in seeing some of that work done. And I think we will have a part in some of the current crises facing Alexandria too. In fact, two of them are very specific to us: the happenings at the Exploratory Associates' building and the recent incident with demonic possession at Old Clunk's."

"But . . . part of me wonders if artifice is enough now. The most recent crisis was only solved with the cooperation of artificers, mages, and the clergy. And I think with how frequent certain problems occur, especially the ever-continuing spate of demonic attack, such partnerships will have to be forged again. And it was that reality which prompted me to try to think of a broader set of solutions."

Fazahd nods along with you, sipping quietly from his beer as he listens. Best thing that priests can do, after all, listening quietly.

Parked at the side of the road is a structure on metallic spider's legs about the size of a small house. One whole side of it is open, exposing a richly-appointed wooden bar and cushioned stools, and a rat's next of piping lining the opposite wall. Fazhad and Aria sit at the bar, talking - well, mostly her talking while Fazahd drinks from a large pewter mug.

"It is true," says Fazahd, "That society is like a machine - you will see my charitable work here as grease to help its gears move more smoothly, nevermind the fact that it is the right and honorable thing to do for people. As cogs ourselves, we must be aware of how we affect the rest of the machine as well; how astute you are, my child, for seeing this truth." Fazahd smiles at the golem, taking another drink from his mug. "But I wonder what you feel should be added."

Munch wanders. Which is a pretty common activity around here. Lots to see in Alexandria, even in the parts you've already been to. Like that foodcart over there, that wasn't here last time he came by. Wandering closer, Munch peers at the occupants. "Hello."

Aria is seated across from Fazahd, the copper girl perched with perfect posture atop her stool, hands folded neatly in her lap. She's talking quite intently.

"It strikes me that Alexandria might benefit from the Father of Artifice having a more robust presence within its walls. I have heard that you do good work, Forge, and seeing it here myself, I believe that to be true. But I believe that more guidance and a stronger presence is needed in a city with both such a large group of artificers and such visible symbols of the past mistakes of artifice." Visible symbols? Is she referring to the Exploratory Associates building? "Not just to offer guidance to the artificers here, but to soothe those laypeople who may not know how to interpret the presence of such artifice in their lives, or even just to offer the more mundane skills of the Father of Artifice to those places here that desperately need more people willing to build and toil."

"And perhaps most pressingly, to help address the too-frequent crises involving the meddling of demons and other outsiders. Many of them have involved artifice, either at the core of the problem or as part of the solution. And some were only solved through a partnership of artificers, clerics, and mages."

"I wondered if a proper temple here might offer useful resources to this city. Or at the very least, a larger shrine with more resident Forges and Hammers. But I realized this would both be a costly affair and come with its share of political hassles. I was told I should seek your counsel before I pursue this matter, and I think that's wise. I find it hard to tell if there's any worth in this idea. As a Forge yourself, what do you think?"

Aria's head turns when Munch approaches. The pale blue lights of her eyes flickers for a split-second before she greets the other golem in soft, pleasant tones. "Hello. I don't believe we've met. I'm Aria."

Fazahd clears his throat. "Well," says Fazahd after looking at Aria for a long moment, "I actually have been quietly working on such a thing. It will be an incredible expensive, of course, but yes. I have drawn up plans for a suitable temple. Let us consider working together on this, my child. But quietly, at least for now. Politics are politics."

Ah, then there's Munch. "Munch, my son," he calls, "Come up and say hello!"

Munch nods politely, and steps up to take a seat next to Aria. "Munch TerrorMaw, The Golem Who Eats. And this is Reaver." The metal man motions casually to the massive greataxe upon his back. "What were you saying about a temple?"

It's hard to discern what Aria is thinking, even for a golem. Her fixed facial expression is permanently molded in copper, and there's very little fluctuation in her tone. She sounds a little pleased to meet someone new, but that might just be an anthropomorphization of her usual preprogrammed tone.

"It's a pleasure, Mister Terrormaw. And to you, Mister Reaver. We were discussing the utility of constructing a Temple of Reos within the city." She pauses for a few moments, unblinking eyes on Munch. "Are you a follower of the Father of Artifice?"

"Munch is not exactly a pious being, but he honors the Father." Fazahd slips to his feet and goes back around the counter. "Can I get something for you to eat, Munch? I have some roasted rust-beast remaining."

Munch blinks with a soft click, metal plates slideing across magicite orbs. He shrugs, and nods towards Fazahd. "I tend towards the teaching of Kor, but I owe the GearFather my being, so I try to honor him as well. But mostly I just do my own thing." Turning to face Fazahd, he waves vaugely. "I don't turn down food, but if it's better served for someone else, save it for those in need."

"I am glad you're in agreement with me on this matter, Forge. I am even more glad that you've been working toward similar ambitions yourself." Aria's words slow a bit, a hint of tension creeping in. Hesitation, maybe? "I suspected you might, actually. To be completely frank, the thing which has vexed me most is the matter of how. I've been formulating plans to encourage specific actors in the city to cooperate." Her attention briefly drifts toward Munch before she looks back at Fazahd. "Specifically, one would need to appease the more free-thinking artificers who chafe at the idea of further Reosian control, and I believe gaining the approval of at least some of the other temples within the city will be necessary. I have a few ideas on both matters. These are matters of politics, though, and some of my ideas I've come up with . . . they seem a little too political and perhaps too mercenary for a matter of faith."

And again, she turns toward Munch. "Forgive me if this question is overly personal, Mister Terrormaw. But were your creators of the Sith-makar race? I have never met a golem with a superstructure of that shape, and I am curious."

"Well, we will talk about it later, I'm sure." Fazahd gives Aria a faint smile before looking back to Munch. "So. Food, Munch?"

Munch buzzes in amusement. "Don't worry about it. Every question is personal, if you're a person. No, my design is Gustavian, a prototype, or more proof of concept. Sevral parts are dragon insipred, so tangentially connected to Sith, but not directly related." He shrugs to Fazahd. "I eat literally anything, so hunger isn't a problem. But if you're looking to get rid of something, I'll gladly take it off your hands."

"Gustav? The company I work for has a berth in Pacifica," Aria begins, her voice picking up just a little. "I've seen the city from the airstation. It's quite beautiful. I've never actually stayed there, though. I wanted to explore the city, but even when we had to stop there for maintenance, I was never able to find lodgings to stay the night." Her tone is starting to show a little bit of open curiosity now. "What is it like?"

She nods quietly to Fazahd as an aside, seemingly in deference to his request to finish that part of their conversation later.

Fazahd smiles as Aria falls to wonder, and he slathers up a plate with several large steaks of vibrant purple meat stacked on top of one another. Just starting to darken around the corners, which of course indicates that spoilage is only a day or so away - but still edible, of course. He serves this plate to Munch in silence, with knife and fork, and quietly listens.

Munch sighs, and considers a few moments. "Gray. Dull. Controled. I'm likely not the best to ask. I was activated in a lab, didn't get out until I had to leave. I went back once, for a mission. It was unplesant, but they were under influence from the Blue Bitch. So I'm not sure what parts were normal and what parts weren't." He buzzes softly a moment. "Would like to learn more about those 'Levathian' things, though."

He nods to Fazahd, and accepts the plate, ignoring the utensils. The TerrorMaw's face splits open, parting along both the horizontal and vertial axis, reveiling row upon row of gleaming adamantine fangs, rippers, grinders, and assorted other nasty tidbits inside. Idly tossing a steak within, the jaws snap shut with a vicious snap, followed by a muffled grinding.

"The Blue Bitch?" Aria tilts her head, though she seems more surprised by that name than the sight of the Terrormaw parting to grind up its meal. It's not clear if she even eats herself, but judging by the fact that her face doesn't seem to be articulated at all, probably not. "Who is that?"

Munch shrugs. "A demon. Or something, I never did learn the details. May have heard of her as 'The Azure Queen.' Influenced a lot of people into being really grumpy and fighting each other. Like, entire cities in a bad mood so much they start killing each other. Some big ritual broke her hold, locked her away or something. Again, I don't know all the details. I just slapped the stupid out of some of her minions."

Another steak disappears into the Maw, the mouth and the golem's method of speaking not directly connected.

"Ah. I remember hearing of that. I don't have a very good memory of those events, though," Aria replies. "I was preoccupied with other matters at that time, and I hadn't yet arrived in Alexandria. It was the citizens of this city, though, who ultimately disrupted her activities, was it not?"

Fazahd looks...well, fascinated. Grimly. The man likes a good story.

Munch nods. "Am sure other places did what they could, but when the ritual here ended, didn't heard any more troubles from her. Bunch of holy artifacts gathered together. That why we were in Gustav, by the way, to fetch Reos' Hammer of Creation. Anyway, big ritual that blew the roof off the Temple of Tairen. Or maybe they set off all the woopie cushions at once. Hard to tell with those guys."

"Ah, I had heard about the Father's Hammer," Fazahd says with a nod. "Interesting."

"Such an artifact was brought here? Where is it now?" Aria asks. She pauses there. "Or is that a secret? It must be carefully guarded if it's so powerful."

Munch says, "Returned to Gustav. That was the deal for almost all of the artifacts. Alexandros could borrow them for the ritual, but not keep them after. May be a few still around, kept quiet, but the Hammer wasn't one of them... pretty sure."

"Shame, but the Father's light does not surround a single relic." Fazahd heaves a sigh. "Well, it's all done now, I suppose. The people are tougher, and the poor and indigent are fewer - not without the constant attention of negative elements, of course. Psychological and economic sanitation helps to keep desperation at bay, and thus keeps people from turning to the Inferno and the Abyss."

"Is it the people turning to those things, Forge? Or are those things coming to them?" Aria asks.

"Misery is like blood in the water," Fazahd says with a shrug. "It attracts the sharks...but they sometimes hunt on their own, do they not?"

Munch buzzes softly. "I know what you meant, but I never liked that phrase. I always turn towards the Inferno or Abyss. I don't want the things that crawl out at my back."

"I find it frightening to recall such things. In the darker moments of desperation, even good people can succumb to despair and cynicism, and in doing so, willingly become party to terrible actions. Humanity at its worst is a terrible thing to behold." Aria's voice almost sounds subdued there, a faint flicker of the blue behind her eyes. "I prefer to look forward. That's why I believe so fervently in the Father of Artifice. Prosperity, peace, joy, love. These things should be pursued, but they're sadly transitory. The only thing which pushes society forward in its darkest moments is a commitment to keep striving, keep improving, to rebuild and regroup without heed of how tragic or desperate the situation may be."

"We build together, we work together, we grow strong together. We are alloyed upon the anvil of the world." Fazahd makes a sign of prayer at his chest, and chuckles. "Well. We are still here, and the world has not collapsed. The Father still watches over us all."

Munch buzzes, and nods. "Society is a complex. Many, working as one. But you have no control over others, only yourself. You can advise, guide, even threaten, but not control. Only yourself. Make yourself better, stronger, faster, wiser. Always strive to be more today than you were before. There is no final goal. However good you are, you can always be better. It is the process that matters, the constant struggle. That is the way of Kor."

"Well . . . not for us, no. I might argue that the world has collapsed for a great many people. In this land alone, how many times have cities or towns or civilizations been ended by the hubris and lust for power of a few? Even just in the last few decades? The Crown Wars. The Sorceress Wars. The Plagues." Aria's mind seems to wander her voice grows a little distant. "Though I try not to, it's hard not to think of those things on rare occasion. I think that's the reason I can be a little . . . proactive in trying to push forward solutions sometimes. Maybe excessively so. I hope I was not that way with you, Forge."

"You were not," Fazahd says with a shake of his head. "If anything, I am the very embodiment of that risk. So far, however, it has been a constructive sort of arrogance."

Munch nods. "Change comes. To strive that it be a good change is never wrong."

"Constructive arrogance?" Aria's eyes drift as her head slowly turns, out through the open front of the store and toward those walking the street. A bit more emotion than usual shows in her tone here, notes of regret and apprehension. "Is there really such a thing? Is it not dangerously likely that one gives in to hubris if they live that way? Especially as an artificer?"

"Only if one is aware of one's nature." Fazahd shrugs. "I am an unhappy person. I have had a negative upbringing, despite the best attempts of my parents - and it has left a dark place in me. I am aware of the potential for negative behavior that I have, thus I work hard to ensure that potential is outweighed by positive behavior. In this way is the bad outweighed - and crushed - by the good in me."

Fazahd notes, "Goodness is seldom an elemental thing in the creatures of this world. It must be cultivated."

Munch nods. "I'm violent and destructive. I just point it at things worse than me."