A Basket Full of Joy

Log Info

• Title: A Basket Full of Joy
• Emitter: Gadget
• Characters: Gadget, Ashes
• Place: A10: Temple District, A14: Artificer's Hall
• Time: Sunday, August 23, 2020, 9:58 AM
• Summary: A low-riding bassinett is located in the Temple District, with a capuchin monkey begging nearby. Mourner Ciaradh arrives and stares at the bundle within until a conversation starts. A small, yet adult humanoid, needs assistance as she is lacking eyes, arms and legs. Ash takes her to the Artificer's Guild, where some gnome artificers who are skilled in making arms assemble a small presentation. The three samples are examined by the monkey, described by Ash and then their creators, then held to Gadget's cheek for evaluation. A clockwork copper arm, magica ivory and mithril arm, and steam and compressed air iron arm are evaluated. Gadget select the magica based one, and retires to Ruthie JingleHammer's workshop to hammer out the details. The mourner watches for a while, then leaves.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A10: Temple District *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The air of solemn, heavy divinity in the area is often broken by laughter. The dual presence of the deities Althea and Daeus, man and wife, stand towards the center, with their children and their children's temples positioned around them. The presence of the divine is felt not only by their temples, but also by the actions of their worshipers. The great plaza is as a social center, paved in brilliant, white flagstones and covered in benches and sitting areas. Priests, acolytes, and servicefolk of all stripes roam the plaza, going from one task to the other.

At the front of the temples of Daeus and Althea, at the Plaza's centermost point, rests a great fountain, the cheerful waters reflecting the Sun during the day, and the Moon and Stars at night. The fountain is strategically centered, and is oft a place for wisdom and lesson-giving. It is not uncommon for a priest of some stripe or the other to stand there, surrounded by the curious and faithful, delivering messages of hope or contemplation. At other times, it and the plaza become a landscape of celebration of the holy holidays.

Few vendors are seen in the plaza--the nearby temples provide most food or services. Towards the west, the great Bridge stretches across the river, and towards the east, the Redridge mountains. The plaza rests in the midst of it all, the temples massive and grand on the Alexandrian scale.

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In the mid-morning, the temple district is filled with people coming and going. Between them skips and jumps a capuchin monkey going from person to person, rattling some coins in a tin cup. When the cup is more full, the monkey trots back on three limbs to a baby buggy that's low to the ground, dumping the change in before loading up a few coppers to repeat the process.

Into the Temple plaza drifts Ashlee. Her arrival and progression is so passive there is no better way to describe it. The grey Arvek Nar walks slowly with an unhurried pace, similar to clouds passing the sky. The morning is starting hazy and hot, but surrounding the mourner is an unsettling chill, something akin to graves and cemetaries. This causes people to give her a wide distance, flowing around her as if she's a rock in a river, or a slow moving boat.

If the chill wasn't enough, the skull she has tattoo'd on her face also causes some concern. It's decorated with small colourful flowers, a worm. Combined with her faded grey vestments however it makes her seem like a small grim reaper is gliding across the square.

The monkey draws her attention, as does the strange bassinet. She approaches, and stares.

Inside the bassinet is a lumpy blanket that does a decent job concealing what's beneath it, though at the top of it, a blindfolded face is visible. The lips are too full and the cheeks lack enough baby fat for it to be an actual, human infant, and that's before one gets to the lush hair spread out over the pillow. The monkey rushes over and rattles the cup up at the Arvek Nar with an incincere smile spread across its face, juxtaposed with worried eyebrows, though it's not dropping the begging act.

Ash has a worn leather satchel at her side, with strange symbols embossed on the main flap. It looks older than her. She reaches in, digs around, all in an unhurried manner. She brings out a couple coins, extends her hand and places them in the monkey's paw.

Her hand has stylized bones on it, bright white, against her warm grey skin. As she places the coins, her fingertips brush the simian's palm. She is silent throughout the whole transaction, and returns to staring at the blindfolded face, the incongruous hair and the lush lips.

The monkey is used to people occasionally petting it, so a slight hand brush isn't going to bother it. It is bound into service as a familiar, which does give it a lot more intelligence than usual, as well as better awareness and some other gifts. After depositing the coins, the woman is looked at with a different expectation, and the monkey's head tilts as it leans slightly, the implication being one to leave.

The monkey's emotional state or possibly the quiet staring causes the creature hidden by blankets to stir. With movement, more is revealed. The being's chest is far too buxom to be that of a child, but there's also no evidence of arms or legs as the female in the bassinet worms slightly. There's the sound of shifting coins under her blankets, likely mostly copper or silver. "Who's there?" she finally says, face pointed out toward the outside world.

"Ash," comes the answer, the spoken word flat and monotone. Otherwise, no movement, none to depart. The skeletal figure staring at a babycart is representative of every mother's fears. The mourner is recognized by most clergy but for the average Temple worshipper it's unclear if she's an apparation, actually there, or some portent of doom. Simply standing there is causing people to spread and avoid the scene. The monkey would have to travel further to beg, if it wasn't intimating she should leave.

Ash herself continues to examine the contents of the bassinet, noting the swell of chest, lack of limbs. She reaches into her satchel and takes out a worn, dark grey pamphlet.

"Okay," says the female inside the bassinet. "Another ominous name," she says, "but not as bad as Murder."

The title of the pamphlet is 'How to act like a normal Person'. There is a picture of Scales, the holy symbol of Vardama, suggesting the Temple authored it. Details only the moneky would see, and likely not understand. The ashen Arvec opens it, reads down, looking for some entry along the lines of 'When finding an abandonned child'.

There is none. She thinks back to her own experience, which suggests she leave her abandonned. The only entry that's somewhat close seems entirely inappropriate once the hidden female speaks.

"It is short for Ashlee. I'm Mourner Ciaradh. Ciaradh means, 'the time between the light and the darkness'. My Ex called me Twilight because of that. I prefer Ash." Still no inflection, no urgency in the words. Flat monotone. Ash becomes worried that perhaps she has over-shared. She looks at the pamplet once more, folding it up and putting it away. "Saying 'coochie coochie coo' and pinching your cheeks seems inappropriate. I'm not sure what to do."

"I'm not a baby," the female says, "so thank you for abstaining from that, Ash." The monkey hops into the cart and puts its paws up on the canopy, as if about to draw it down. "I'm an adult," the tiny female continues. "Just in a bad way. This baby buggy was in the trash. We put together this cart after the...incident. I heard you drop some coins in. Thank you."

Ash watches the monkey's actions and athleticism, standing still herself. The choker around her neck rotates, and a larger segmented piece comes into view and positions beneath her chin. A segment with eyes. The Arvec nods slowly. She's been staring the whole time.

"I can provide additional assistance, or I can leave if you wish to continue asking for alms." She sounds disinterested in either option, there's no liveliness to her voice, it remains flat and devoid of emotional expression.

"So far, lots of people talk about helping, but all they've done is teleport me away from the artificers to the temple district. What help would you provide?" the small one asks.

"I know some goblin artificers in Goblintown. I could take you there or the Artificer's Guild if you would prefer to speak to gnomes. I can provide minor healing. If you die, I can prepare your body and assist you crossing the veil." Ash lists off the things she might do. The thought strikes that perhaps she shouldn't have mentioned helping with the final rest. Oh well. Simply to add something so that's not the last offer, she monotones, "I'm on break. I have lots of time."

"I'd rather not explode," the tiny being says. "Gnomes are preferable, but any artificer who can build me limbs or eyes will work.

The bassinet has big ol' bicycle wheels, and is about the right height to be pushed by a 2' tall capuchin monkey or a gnome or gobber.

"Ok." Ash says. She moves behind the bassinet and starts to push. She isn't in a hurry, continuing to glide along, so the ride is gentle. While the bassinet has big bicycle wheels, it's low, at the height it could be pushed by a 2' tall capuchin monkey, or a gnome, or a gobber.

As a hobgoblin, Ashlee is a bit too tall, forcing her to bend over dramatically. If a Death staring at a baby carriage caused a wide berth, a Death hunched over pushing one clears a path incredibly quickly. She doesn't speak unnecessarily, so there is only the creak of the springs as the carriage rolls along. Ash heads for the Sage Orum plaza, where they people who make artifice things that explode slightly less often gather and work. Along the way she passes a white lizard carrying a much smaller one in a backpack going the opposite direction. They glance at each other and move on.

Artificer's Hall

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A14: Artificer's Hall *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The Artificer's Hall rests slightly off the ground, supported on all sides by eight strong, if nonfunctional legs. The entire Hall is carved from an ancient automation of a giant arachnid. While at one time--many eons past--it may have been functional, today it is a hollowed-out shell of its former self, with rooms made for professors' offices and class rooms. The Hall itself may be accessed by a stairway that leads up, and up...and up through one of its many legs.

Once inside, its appearance is anything but a mechanical spider's guts. With ceilings of polished stone and artifice-metal, the Hall possesses the same, ominous acoustics as any grand cathedral. Twisting, jointed arches of metal reflect its true form--as a great, massive structure hosted within an arachnid's mechanical belly. Everything is dark and metallic, with seams barely visible where pieces have been welded together. The whole building pulses every so often with a hum of energy, powered by a kind of arcane force scarcely comprehended by the outside world. Yet, the energy seems almost gobber-chaotic.

The centre of the building is a great octagon, with eight, great halls leading away from its core. Decorating its core are stained glass windows. They add to the almost holy ambiance. Instead of leading to the outside world, each shadowbox displays life-sized figures enact scenes from Alexandria's past from the Artificer's perspective. They display feats of Building, Achievement, and Experimentation. Towards the north is one depicting the Forge of the World. It depicts what is thought to be a snapshot of the tower at the center of the World Engine, the god's planar home.

The whole of the complex includes dormitories and construction rooms, where artificers compare notes, ideas, and puzzle over the grand works of history. These buildings spawn from the Central Hall in an almost arachnid fashion, connected by walkways of dark steel and overseen by golem guardians.

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The buggy jingles as the coins inside rattle, however, the big wheels prevent the rattling from being much worse. Every stair is a jingle or a jangle, but it's altogether a smooth ride for the two occupants. Both of them are quiet for the journey. Not much for the speaking one to see, and the monkey can't relay what it sees, certainly. However, the monkey does adjust the canopy to keep the tiny, humanoid face in shade.

Ash isn't that strong, but the buggy has big wheels and the occupants aren't that heavy. She gets it up the stairs. She's staring, something she does all the time, with more wide-eyed interest as she enters the halls. She likes spiders, she likes all bugs, and darkness, and fascinating curves of metal. The shadowboxes draw her attention.

She doesn't gawk, but it holds her attention and keeps her aimless for a while as she pushes the buggy around the interior, looking at things, and for someone who might assist.

She finally does the most expedient thing, finding someone who is stationary, approaching and staring at them until they ask her what she wants. She replies, "I need to speak to someone who can make eyes, arms and legs." She pauses, it might be important to clarify, "for a humanoid. Where do I go?"

The artificer under the mourner's stare is a gnome, middle-aged, almost as wide as he is tall. He has oddly bronzed skin, as if he's spent a lot of time in the sun, a van-dyke beard, long hair tied in a pony tail that hangs to his waist. He wears goggles, pushed back on his head, and leather overalls. "Why you asking me?" He snaps back in an irritated, high pitched voice. The mourner doesn't reply, he stares at her, at the bassinet.

"Eyes? Arms? Legs? Which is it? Someone that does all those, won't be any good, all average. You want a specialist. Focused."

"If I have an arm," comes the voice from the baby buggy, "I can at least cast spells again. Mending is probably a better way to earn than a begging monkey."

Ash stands there patiently, waiting. She takes the opportunity to straighten up, stretch her back. Now she can loom ominously over the others. This is enjoyable.

"Do both!" The male gnome cackles, "Arms. I can do Arms. So can JingleHammer and ScreechWidgit. They're upstairs." He waves off in a direction, too quick for the monkey to see, impossible for Gadget to do so.

"So what'll it be? A JingleHammer, A ScreechWidgit, or a ClangBoggle. That's me, Cant ClangBoggle."

"Gadget Hackwrench," Gadget says with a smile. "This is Mr. Jinglewidget," she says. The monkey opens the canopy and bows before smiling. "I don't have the coin for both," Gadget then admits. "I'm right-handed, and if I can get my right hand up and working, I can do most things, including cast and sign legal documents. Gotta have Mr. Jinglewidget look them over, of course. Make sure there's no funny-business being passed onto a blind girl."

"Mr. Jinglewidget, great name!" The gnome cackles again, makes a bow where he bends at the hips, yet doesn't over balance. "Nice ta meetchya Miss Hackwrench. I'll shake your hand when you have one. So, right hand then! Have your... ahh... your..." He looks at the Mourner.

"Ash," Ashlee says.

"Have your Ash bring you along. We'll go upstairs, see if the others are in, look for a workshop. Draw up your specs. Ha ha!" Cant starts off towards the stairs, he walks in a zig-zag fashion, all his weight rolling onto one leg, then the other. It's energetic despite his weight, even if he does seem like a ball with an oblong problem.

Ash bends over, and with a creak, pushes the buggy and follows upstairs to the workshops.

Mr. Jinglewidget looks nervous, but the sound and the smells of Artifice seem to put Gadget in a much better mood. "Oh, listen to it, Mr. Jinglewidget," she says. She is quiet and lets the sounds of ratchets and hammers and welding magics fill her perfect ears.

Around, the building pulses with energy and there is the sound of industry. The group arrives as the second level's workshops. All have heavy doors, which can be closed to protect secrets, or from accidents. They also have two sets of locking mechanisms, wheels and levers set at gnome height, and a second pair at human eight.

ClangBoggle selects only the gnome artificers however, banging on their doors to draw them out. "You in there? Got a customer! Girl wants a right arm. Ruthie, Peggy, bring out a sample if you're interested."

He goes and gets one of his own, and a quick display is set up in a conference area. Spread out in front of the bassinet on a gnome-height table are three example arms. Cant Clangboggle continues, "How you want to evaluate these Miss Hackwrench? Can your monkey tell, your Ash?"

Ash, standing tall again, shrugs and stares quietly.

GAME: Gadget rolls 1d20: (4): 4

"Mr. Jinglewidget can try," Gadget says. "He built this buggy with some instructions from me." The monkey jumps up out of the cart and starts looking over samples. However, after a while, the monkey does get confused, it seems, and looks back at Gadget, making some noises. "Well, don't look at me. I can't help you figure it out. I can't see, remember?"

"There are three arms." Ash says, narrating in a monotone. "All gnome sized. ClangBoggle's is made of copper and brass. I see gears. It looks muscular and masculine and has some panels that might pop open."

"The second one, JingleHammer's, looks like it is made of Ivory and maybe some leather. The joints have visible metal, silvery. It might be mithril. There are some tubes that look like they have quicksilver in them. It is very elegant and looks decorative." Ash says.

"The third, the ScreechWidget, looks like iron. It has some glowing bulbs that correspond to muscle locations, and some vents. It's feminine too, but very muscular, like a small orc's arm." The ashen Arvec finishes her descriptions.

"It's Ruthie JingleHammer." A somewhat older, female gnome corrects. She sounds irritated, "She won't be able to tell a thing from those descriptions. You didn't even touch on the power supplies."

GAME: Gadget rolls 1d20+2-2: (2)+2+-2: 2

Gadget giggled. Mr. Jinglewidget tried to take into consideration all the various things the other gnomes were saying, but they only seemed to confuse him more. He jumps into the buggy and closes it up again. "Hang on, now, Mr. Jinglewidget," Gadget says. "Open up." The canopy comes open, but slowly. "All the way, we're indoors." The monkey complies. Gadget squirms a little. "Touch my cheek with them," Gadget says.

The gnomes slip into a brief argument amongst themselves.

"I can make feminine arms," ClangBoggle grumps, "This is the sample I had on hand. More storage space. It can be smaller."

"Cant can't," giggles a third voice, so far unheard. Must be ScreechWidget's. She sounds younger than either of the other two.

"Hey!" Cant ClangBoggle pipes back, "I didn't say anything about you steam-cleaning the armpit of your last customer."

"That was a protype, the venting locations were going to be re-routed."

"Esteemed Colleagues," the older woman's voice interrupts. She almost chokes saying 'esteemed'. "This isn't helping the presentation. Miss Hackwrench, the artifice motivators in these examples are primarily clockwork in Cant's, harnessed arcane energy in mine, and steam and compressed air in Peggy's."

Attempting to be helpful, Ash adds, "Yes." She takes up the first arm, Clang's and holds it to Gadget's cheek while the others... 'discuss'.

"I'm a sorceress," Gadget says. "Arcane energy flows through my blood like /giant, radioactive, rubber pants/! The pants command me: Do not ignore my veins!" She arches her back slightly to shift. "I would like to feel the arcane one, however, as I am less worried about exploding or being pinched with such an advanced application of magicka."

"Do you want me to move it around?" Ash asks. She listens as Gadget explains the secret of the pants. Interesting. She replaces ClangBoggle's example and picks up JingleHammer's

Meanwhile, the gnomes continue. Ruthie JingleHammer adds her thoughts. "That's a good point. You'll want something compatible. All of ours work, but Peggy designs for golems and Clang works with non-mages who want something reliable and anti-magic-field resistant. You're choice is more significant, as it appears you're going to be needing a lot of prosthetics. You might consider inter-connecting them on a framework as well as connecting them to your veins, so the magicka transfers better."

The second arm is brought to touch Gadget's cheek, and some of Ash's ropey hair falls forward into the carriage and on her face as she leans over. "Sorry." The ashen Arvec makes an effort to hold it back while the smooth, ivory, mithril and quicksilver limb is held in place.

Gadget giggles as the hair tickles her. Mr. Jinglewidget knows enough to try to guide the hair out of his domain of protecting his mistress. She leans into the second arm. "It does feel nicer," she says. "I mean...I'm not going to have a fleshy hand to scratch with or wash with." She adds, "Doesn't feel like metal. Would be rust resistant, I assume."

"It's a thin, lightweight Ivory covering on a mithril framework, with mithril bones," Ruthie explains, "Magica reservoirs in the form of silver capacitors with quicksilver transfer tubes. Whitened chamois leather on wear and flex points, as well as the friction surfaces for the hands. It won't feel like flesh but it will be warmer than metal."

"There's usually a small enchantment to prevent metal corrosion," Clang adds. Peggy echoes, "Yeah, mine too. Metal can still be an option."

Ash assists, staring silently, taking the opportunity to look over Gadget now that she's more exposed. She blinks once, doesn't seem to mind the monkey touching or moving her hair. She monotones, "Do you want the third one now?"

"Sure," Gadget says. "Thank you, Ash. You're very helpful and kind." She waits for the next one in line to come in contact with her skin.

The ashen Arvec replaces the second example and picks up the third. Her clothes move with her, revealing little of her form. She leans over again to touch Gadget with the third example.

Peggy promotes her work, "That was designed for a golem with resonant tubing so some of it's features wouldn't apply for you. It is heavier because it's iron, but again that was her choice. I can work in other metals, cuirboili and semi-precious stone. No skeletal framework, that's provided by the motivator pneumatics. It has semi-rigid interior bladders that act as motivators, with the unicast shell providing the structure. The motivators are arranged analogous to muscles, but there are a few extra ones providing non-standard ranges of motion. The elbow bends and rotates three hundred and sixty degrees, for example."

A metal hand rests on Gadget's cheek now. Ashes' breathing is audible as she leans close. She flicked her hair back, so it doesn't fall into the carriage.

Gadget nuzzles into the arm as she did the other two. "It certainly feels strong," she says. She lets her head rest naturally and says, "Ruthie JingleHammer. Can you design me an arm made of porcelain over bone or other materials that aren't likely to cost me more than I'm able to make back in a lifetime, perhaps with less dangerous Moonstone cores instead of quicksilver reservoirs? If something breaks, I don't want to be breathing mercury fumes."

"Yes my dear, of course I could. You seem to know something of the craft. I can put together a design proposal that..." Ruthie hesitates, glancing at the monkey then the mourner, "... that your skeleton friend could read to you. We could work on it now if you like."

Cant grunts. He's picked up his sample, heavy boots stomping on the floor as his rolling gait takes him out. "Thanks for ruining my sales pitch," he snaps at Peggy. "Thanks for wasting my time," he tells Ash. "Have a good day, Miss Hackwrench. I hope you have a speedy recovery." He stomps off.

Peggy ScreechWidget can be heard quietly moving and picking up her example arm.

Gadget is still smiling as she says, "Your design is beautiful, Cant!" she calls out. "I just don't want it hanging from my legless torso!"

Perhaps his steps get a little lighter. Cant at least sounds genuine when he calls back, "Thank you miss Hackwrench." He returns to his work, understanding surely, limbs are very personal things.

Peggy is also disappointed but hides it better. "Thank you for the consideration. Perhaps we can do business in the future." There's a swish of clothing that suggests she bowed, then lighter steps, and finally a rolling noise and clunk from her workshop door.

Ash looks at Gadget, Mr. JingleWidget, then Ruthie. She moves to the back of the bassinet, ready to follow. The older gnome woman's voice is very warm, "Thank you for selecting me. I look forward to coming up with something that will serve you well. We can go to my workshop now if you like, or you can return at your leisure. I need to put a few personal projects away before I can jump in."

"I would love to smell your workshop," Gadget says, still beaming, the happiest she's looked in ages. "It feels like forever since I've been in a proper arcane artifice workshop." She listens for Mr. Jinglewidget to move, but finds he's still nestled up next to her, occasionally making monkey noises. "I just hope I have enough to pay you," Gadget says. "I've been begging since I showed up, here, and some days, I barely have enough to buy proper food."

"I'm sure we can work out reasonable terms," Ruthie says with the eagerness of a gnome looking to haggle with someone over interest rates and a protracted loan. "Come this way."

She sounds stocky, not nearly as heavy as Clang, but she's got an artificer's build.

There's a slight lurch as Ash gets the buggy rolling. The wheels bump quietly along the floorplates, there's a rocking as it crosses the threshold.

Workshop!

The scents flood forth. There's an acrid, ozone scent of electrical discharge, the metallic tints of various metals. Coffee, if a pot isn't on, it's jotun-sized mug of it. A waft of leathers, a strong aura of female gnome. She sleeps here, and her blood, sweat and perhaps tears have permeated the environment also. Bleach dominates in areas, cleaning happens, although not everything is cleaned with bleach. Some oils and other aromas that are hard to pin down, perhaps chemicals useful in etching, or paints, or lubricants.

"There's some free food at the temples. Bread mostly." Ash offers.

"Better than bugs," Gadget says. Mr. Jinglewidget sits up straight and puts his little fists on his hips. Making a huff, he looks with surprise at her. "Sorry, Mr. Jinglewidget. Thank you, but I'm not as fond of bugs as you are."

"I like bugs." Ash says, perhaps confirming that she eats them as well as plays with them. She stares at the monkey, then Ruthie JingleHammer, finally what she can see of Gadget. "Do you want me to move the carriage closer to anything?"

"Yes Gadget, let me know if there's any way I could make you more comfortable. I could perhaps rig up a hanging harness, and your monkey, Mr. Jinglewidget is it? Could move you around the workshop if you wanted to help out. Someone might have a spare set of goggles to lend you as 'eyes', I'll ask around."

"If that's possible, I'd absolutely take that," she says. "I'm all about not being blind and defenseless," she adds. "Mr. Jinglewidget can help. He might need some time to get used to how the shop is laid out, but he built my buggy with some instruction."

"He sounds like a very industrious monkey! I'm impressed. Well my dear, we'll soon have you hovering overhead like a bee. Let me put a few things away. An anti-fall safety harness with a few more straps for... ah... your condition should do. Then it will simply be an armature, an elevation winch and a few limit stops so you don't crash into a wall." It sounds like the woman is already working something out in her head, even as there are the noises of things being picked up, moved, put in storage bins or cabinets. The clunk of small parts into bowls.

"Just make sure he doesn't eat anything. Or touch my coffee."

Ash stands there and rubs at her neck, at the choker around it. The choker rotates again, letting her touch each segment. Her other arm hangs freely at her side and she stares quietly, watching the proceedings. Suddenly, she decides she has to go and leaves the other two wordlessly.

And the two get down to work.