Ravboom nods. "Rav told you he seen this stuff before, you no believe him." He waves a hand around distractedly. "Tubes like stuff we grew up with. Rav born in New'Mare'Eah."
The man sat at the harp continues to pluck out a gentle tune, and as it transitions from happiness to a melancholic sadness, Caeftin listens, "Golarion? I have never heard of such a place... maybe people in Zel-Argose will know of your home and of a way to return there. Some off-worlders I've met have spoken of worlds with a single sun... maybe that was your Golarion?"
The conversation flows through the hours as dusk falls until tiredness settles in... and so, falling asleep in the soft amber glow of the fire, the friends spend their second night on Argosa. Waking in the coldness of the next morning, the friends find that the beasts of the caravan are already hitched to their wagons... Caeftin and Baeden, sitting next to the remnants of the fire and drinking steaming liquid from a mug, smile as they see the friends awake...
Within the hour the wagons are hitched back to their animals... and, kicking up dust behind them, the equine beasts accelerate towards the west. Soon enough, a strange city appears on the horizon, nestled in the foothills of a large mountain range. Even from this distance, the glimmer of a swift-flowing river runs through its center, swelled to capacity as a by-product of the nearby snow-covered peaks. The city itself displays a patchwork of differing architectural styles and incongruous structures. Colossal monuments, many defying description, tower over more modest construction, but no large wall surrounds this metropolis as it flows outward onto a vast plain of seasonal farmland.
...and, some five hundred feet or so above them, an airship - a metallic gondola held aloft by a vast balloon - passes them. Gaudily coloured sails propelling it onwards towards the city. Caeftin turns back towards the friends, "Zel-Argose..."
Rav looks at the city, and grins. "Bet there plenty of scrap yards there. Find everything I need make bigger BoomGar!"
As they draw closer to the city, passing agricultural buildings formed of clay and a copper-like metal with an increased frequency, Caeftin – without looking backwards towards the friends in the wagon – whispers that they must hide beneath one of the many tarpaulins strewn between the barrels and crates that Caeftin will pretend to be bringing into the city for trade… And so it is that Lomrick’s captives, taken from a far-away world and now marooned in an alien culture, make their way into the city that may be their home for a long time to come. The noises of other wagons moving to and from the city, of beasts of burden straining against the heavy loads that they are hauling and of the many voices calling out to each other is dulled by thick tarpaulin but it becomes quite clear that, having only stopped once whilst Caeftin spoke to someone for a minute or so, they are now within the city…
As the sun beats down on the city, the temperature beneath the tarpaulin starts to become quite unbearable and so it is with great relief when the wagon comes to an abrupt halt that Caeftin calls out to the friends, ”It’s all clear… you can come out”. Emerging into the shade between a number of tall stone buildings, the friends realise that Caeftin has chosen a discrete alley, somewhere utterly unobserved, for the friends to disembark. Smiling, Caeftin helps the friends down on to the cobbled street, ”That was easier than I expected, Jahera’s enforcers were happy with my story that I had to return from a planned trip to Dae-Argose to reprovision… and the cost was less than ten primary coins… far less than it would have been if they knew I had brought unregistered off-worlders into the city. We’re a street away from Toiler’s Square here… and I am pretty sure that no-one saw us enter. Get yourself unloaded, help yourself to some of our provisions and then give me five minutes to be clear from this alley… I am going to meet Baeden outside of the city limits and stay away from Zel-Argose for a month or two".
Caeftin climbs back into the driver’s seat of his wagon and spurs the beasts forwards… he nods to the friends and with sincerity in his voice bids them farewell, ”May Ramezarn guide and protect you… and if you find Lomrick, tell him – before he dies – that he should never have double-crossed the Rhydorn brothers”.
…and as his wagon moves out into the streets, Ravboom, Vael, Palomia, Blekk and Biggun are alone in Zel-Argose…
"No, sell stuff we took from Gar'Silt. Then find cheap place to stay, then find work and look for information. Also need find scrap yard, need parts for BoomGar and Brainer." The goblin opines, tapping on the wall that seems to be made from stone that was poured in place or shaped with magic.
Shifting on her feet, "Why were you all coming here?"
"Because better than temple full of attack dogs and murdering scum." Rav responds.
Then he walks out of the alley way, and looks up and down the street, until he finds someone with something that looks like a uniform on. "'Scuse me, new to city. Friends and Rav got lost. Which way market and Inns again? Think last person we ask for directions have fun sending us in wrong direction. Or else Palo suck at remembering directions." He pauses, and then ads "Also, any scrap yards around?"
After waiting little more than a few minutes for Caeftin to have driven his wagon clear of the streets beyond the alleyway, the group wander in the general direction of the area that Caeftin had called “Toiler’s Square”… and, when Ravboom asks a passerby (there is nobody obviously wearing a uniform of any kind) about the nearest market he gets a somewhat incredulous look, "Someone drop you on yer head mate... head around the corner there and you've got the biggest market in Zel-Argose... the biggest in Argosa if you believe what they say!!!"
And following the fellow's instructions, Ravboom and the others are confronted with the dizzying sights and smells of a huge open-air market. Scores of voices from a patchwork of brightly coloured stalls call out to hundreds, if not thousands, of passers-by whilst, above the stalls, dusty flags flutter gently in a light breeze. For a moment, with the near-familiar sights, the escapees from Garsilt could be back on Golarion… but, as they move through the market itself, certain things reinforce just how far from home the friends have come. At first glance, the majority of the traders – and the clientele – are human but something, difficult to perceive on first impressions, feels slightly off… and then they see it, a trader – smiling as he takes coins from one of his customers – taps his forearm and a hidden compartment, presumably where he keeps his money, within his wrist hinges open. Another person, helping with the erection of a stall, lifts a stanchion pole and, as the friends watch, his arms mechanically extend to nearly half again of their original length… and the more they look, the more they see… a woman with a brass skull piece incorporating what appears to be a third eye… men with over-sized limbs constructed from polished steel… yet, amongst these strange folk, there are just as many men and women – if not more – with no obvious mechanical enhancements.
...and then there are what appear to be dwarves... and gnomes... and, standing guard next to a stall selling spices, a trio of bhagra clad in leather...
I have nowhere to go and it seems they do not mind me following them. And follow she does. Still unsure about this place she pulls her googles over her mechanical eyes. Knick Knack moving into one of the over-sized pockets of her jacket. Putting her mechanical arm in the pocket with Knick Knack and keeping a hand on it.
Both are tying to ignore the fear they feel from each other. Rounding the corner and looking around through tinted lenses with wide eyes, "Oh wow."
Rav looks around, and grins. "Nice gears! That's a telescoping gear assembly! Looks like it's All'Lumin'Yum! Hard to find back home. And that's a Selleck Gear assembly!" Rav grins and beckons. "C'mon, may be first place ever they not thing Rav be vermin."
Rav begins looking for places to sell their loot at.
Moving through the packed market - there must be well over five hundred different stalls here - the group find a huge range of food, clothing and technology. Holding on to their wares for a while, they start to play off different sellers against each other - finally getting rid of the various bits of junk that they have accumulated on their adventures, they accumulate a wide range of coins...
...and, surreptitiously checking their money as they trade their goods, the group realise that the coins - all of a golden denomination - are of a much wider variety than they might have expected were they on Golarion (or in Vael's case, her own world)... and, even more obviously, there are no goblinoids here...
Rav seems to get more energetic as they spend a day or two selling off things. "Rav see all sorts of stuff make new BoomGar from. Need place to build, and scrap yard..." He goes off to find a scrap yard, one with either a rental property next to it, or a scrap yard that will let him stay in the scrap yard in exchange for him cobbling together things for them to sell in his off time.
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Still not liking the large crowds, Biggun nonetheless was attracted to the various food stalls. Pondering over various chunks of meat, he eventually picked one at random and paid for it with a bit of the new coin the group gained. Wandering over to the half-metal woman that joined them, he asked, mouth full of unidentified meat, "So, where from?"
Jolted out of her thought by Biggun, "Oh right I.. I never said any of that."
Shifting on her feet and looking down, "The planet I grew up on was.. Well it was a mostly uninhabited planet. What ever people lived there before were long gone. At least as far as we knew. All we had ever found we ruins of cities and villages. That and a lot of animals."
Tucking her flesh arm into her side under the jacket, "I do not know what its first name was but my people called it Haym and people do not live there any more. Apparently it was an unlucky planet."
After trading various items, talk turns to the matter of having somewhere to stay... and so, with typical inelegance, Biggun approaches a strange woman - her skin more like bark than flesh and asks about such things. Hardly taken aback by Biggun - it seems that even though there are no goblinoids here, no-one is at all alarmed by folk of differing races - she introduces herself as Leticula and advises "There are many places to stay here in Zel-Argose... dependent only on your means, your desires and what you need", Leticula thinks for a moment or two, "There are a number of hostels near the Battle Pits where, for somewhat obvious reasons, there is a high turnover of room availability... and the arrival of strangers will be of no particular note. The rooms themselves are likely comfortable enough and should be quite inexpensive".
Heading northwards, following Leticula's direction towards the Battle Pits, the group find themselves in a slow moving crowd making their way towards a huge stadium-like structure... every so often cheers erupt from the building - and then a man at the head of the slow moving crowd, dressed in chainmail and wielding a whip, turns to admonish the men following him, "Come on you filthy lot... We're missing the best fights of the day!!!!"
...it is then that the group realise that the majority of the folk in the crowd are chained together. The chained together men, a sorry-looking collection of folk caked in dirt as though they have been travelling for days, slowly make their way towards the large stadium... every so often, as their pace slow, the 'supervisor' leading the way shouts words of encouragement... or barks orders... anything to keep them moving. Eventually, the men turn off to the left - towards a squat building with barred windows, and the roads running in parallel wit the stadium become comparatively clear.
As Leticula had suggested, there are indeed many hostels, apartments or even small villas available to rent here... advertised via placards, posters and even some illuminated writing above squat pueblo-style buildings, the range of accommodation is quite remarkable...
Rav looks around at the offerings, and sighs. "Not sure staying near slave fighting pit safe, but may be best for now." He obviously isn't happy about the situation. "Maybe small house with multiple rooms? Be cheaper than everyone getting different place, and let us self defense? Try not keep you up banging on things..."
Closing her eyes to the scene before her and mumbling"There are dispicable people everywhere."
Sucking in a breath and nodding, "I can help with that. They left my money as well and since you all are letting me stay with you I am more than happy to do so."
Looking at her new companions, "I apologize. My mind is rather jumbled currently. What do you know of this place?"
"We don't really know very much at all," Relas pipes up. "I think this city has lots of those 'waygates' to other places, but I'm not sure where they go. Probably to other places on this planet but maybe to other places, too!"
"I think we idea is to find a place to live for awhile while we earn some money and start looking for a way to get home. So if Biggun wants to fight in the arena, that could help! And Rav can fix things. Palo and I, uh...well, we'll figure something out!"
He pads up to Knick Knack, giving him a curious sniff. "What about you? What do you two do?"
Tugging itself out of Vael's pocket and floating around Relas. Two small golden orbs are all that still makes Knick Knacks body. Lightly pulsing with light as it talks, "I need to find things to make up more of me but Vael is a crafter like most of her people. Beyond that most her skills are in savaging. We traveled on Haym a lot. Digging though the ruins of the former society."
Moving so that the larger orb brushes up against Relas, "I supervise things. That is what I do."
Nodding at the answer but letting Knick Knack handle the response. Instead turning to Biggun, "You cannot mean that. The strong should help the weak not prey on them."
Her voice gets a little rougher as it gets quietier, "No one should live their lives in chains. As a slave to others." She is clearly trying and only sort of succeeding to contain her anger. Both of her hands shaking.
Not wishing to make too much of a show about choosing somewhere to stay, at least for now, the group settle upon an unassuming single storey building nestled near the far end of a cul-de-sac alley - sufficiently far enough from the large stadium that they can no longer hear the occasional cheering. Advertising as having 'Cheap Rooms, No Deposit Required, Short Term Lets Available'... with a second, smaller sign beneath 'No Questions Asked, All Welcome'... this lodge is declared as being "Zhartle's"...
And Zhartle turns out to be a strange fellow, reptilian - even sauran - in nature, he stands about five and a half feet tall... and has, wrapped around his back, a set of small leathery wings, "Hey... what you staring at? You folks never seen a Zvarr before? Or maybe you ain't seen one outside of the Battle Pits huh?", talking quickly but with a hint of joviality behind his curt manner, "You want rooms? You've got coin right? How long you planning on staying? I got a pair of rooms that got vacated at short notice... if you know what I mean heh, heh, heh... you can have them for a week... five gold coins... don't care about the currency, it's all the same anyhow... so you want them? you do... right?"
When it becomes clear that Zhartle isn't really one for bartering, the 'Zvarr' is paid and, reaching beneath his granite counter, he hands two iron keys over, "End of the corridor... rooms seven and nine... and don't get any blood on the floor... you make sure you're all fixed up before you come back here yeah?"
...the rooms are indeed satisfactory - and, through the barred windows in the two rooms, the jagged chaos of a salvage yard can be seen.
Rav nods. "Good... Oooh, that look like Galvert Rheostat!" The small goblin says as he holds onto the bars to look out into the scrap yard.
Over the next two days, he spends a lot of time in his room and the scrap yard, cursing, making small explosions, and hammering on things. However, he does stop at night, so there's not many complaints. Having noticed that no-one had a gun, and heard some comments on his, he hides his guns so that he doesn't have to worry about any awkward questions. After two days, he's done with his weapons and ammo, and shows them off to the group quietly. The pistol is now large enough that Biggun and Palo and Vael could use it easily in their hands, yet the goblin is somehow able to spin it around without any issues as well.
Then he begins going out into the scrap yard and picking up junk and bringing it back to the rooms, and banging and cursing and making bad burning smells come from the room. But he's careful to keep it as 'relatively' clean as it was when he moved in.
Eventually the goblin yells out. "YOUR EEK AH!" When everyone comes running, he has Brainer's parts strewn all over the room, and the parts of what looks like two or three other artificial creatures. "Rav think Rav got Brainer fixed. Lots of Brainer all burned inside..." He holds up a piece of paper with metal things pushed into it that looks like something burned it. "Found more like this in other things in scrap yard, had to move brainer insides into less damaged body. Leggy things all melted inside. Think it going to work now..." He reaches out and flips a switch on the side of the metal box.
Quietly listening to Palomia but asking before either woman leaves, "Who is this Lomrick and why are you after him?"
Much of Vael's free time is spend far from the noise RAv is making. The sounds of banging and clanging are normally easy to tune out but currently all it does is bring back memories which are painful but welcome. Sounds like home.
[ooc]Things that trouble this place, problems that they have[/oov]
----
Waving a hand, "Lead the way and prey he never gets a hold of large quantities of explosives."
Looking about at the organized chaos, "Why are you repairing that?
Rav looks up at Vael as the thing begins to humm and spark, powering up. "Was helpful and saved our lives. Seems like kind of pocky thing to do to throw it away without fixing it." He looks at Vael's mechanical parts pointedly. "You saying we should throw away things that get broken, instead of fix, if anything happen to Vael?"
Putting a hand across her stomach, "No I am not saying you should not fix it. I was asking why you were doing so."
BZZZZZsnap!
The heavily plated yellow droid snaps into life with a shower of sparks. It then appears to enter a series of startup sounds and motions, including erratic flailing of the arms, driving forward and backward, smacking into the wall, and ending with its front camera unit zooming in and out. In and out. In and out.
Hmmmmmmm, KRIXXXXX... Reboot sequence innitiaKRIXXXXting. Error. Error. Incompatability. Malware detect...Bwwwwwww---___ and with that the robot goes dark and motionless (with a wince and a mutter from RavBoom).
But a minute or so later it starts itself back up with a quiet
___---wwwwooommmm!
And then proceeds to look at the gathered group, one after another, settling on RavBoom
1ÎqÊ nÍyN6 tiV;x#È 6N 5t#qFj#t^`B`CÁ nÍyN 8r#2R tÈÁ yhE1--- jx#P`Mx#È q7zNiV;7N8 tj#ezJp1`B5^x%P--- 97VË 1`N 8~V 5# jRrdT 175#8j1D`B5^---
The robot then proceeds to flip open his front hatch and jam an arm inside, tweaking and re-wiring things (sparks fly, wierd purring noises emerge), finally speaking up again, this time in common, and this time addressing Releas; Accessing databanks... RavBoom! Hello buddy! Your, uh, bigger then I last remembered.. did you gain weight? Like, lots of it? Loving the tan btw!
Oh! Where are my protocols! I am Clap/er. Brain/trap. Umm, I am Braindead. Clappy? Brainer? then after much deliberation he sighs and says I have too many names. Call me Claptrap!
The next morning, whilst Ravboom busies himself in the junkyard and having eaten a fairly basic breakfast at Zhartle’s, the group head out into the city...
This large coliseum features not only a central battle arena, but is ringed by several smaller amphitheaters. On “war day”, the main stadium attracts large crowds for the main event, however, for a mere handful of copper coins, an attendee can observe a smaller match between less known opponents. Wealthy attendees can also purchase an all-day pass and stroll to whatever fight piques their interest. The Battle Pits feature combat between freefolk. convicts and slaves. Freefolk and slaves may earn prize money, but the latter’s winnings go to their masters… and convicts, should they survive one of the mass melees, can earn their freedom.
Many Argosan factions place restrictions on unusual creatures and livestock imported through the gates, citing ecological concerns and potential bio-hazards. At the Bestiarium, however, any number of exotic animals, mounts, and livestock appear for sale with a posted sign from the Office of the Auditor plainly stating the city holds no liability for unmanageable purchases, and that the current owner of any animal must take responsibility for its care and actions.
This gleaming needle-like tower is an intact remnant from the ancient ruins of Zel-Argose rebuilt many times over the years. Like the gates themselves, the building is nearly impregnable. If not for its lack of a gate, the Coteries themselves would envy it. The spire’s central location, however, also makes it an ideal symbol of power for their chosen law-keeper and intermediary, Auditor Jahera Fire-Eyes.
This guild of jugglers, street magicians, and bards has their meeting hall here. The guild’s dues grant members a place to practice their skills, access a job board for possible performance opportunities, and share their concerns.
Despite its uncharitable name, this massive open-air market is where free farmers, fishermen, and tradesmen ply their goods in Zel-Argose. The “toilers” as the Coteries derisively refer to them are heavily watched here by the Auditor’s enforcers, as arguments and fights run counter-productive to fostering active trade in the city. Ironically, their presence encourages most vendors to police themselves, augmenting their stalls with mercenaries for added security.
This causeway in the Artisan’s Quarter caters to upscale iniquity and exotic services, including drug dens which offer a unique escape through transcendental experiences and magical tattoo artists whose ink animates in unusual and arcane ways. Most of the garishly decorated two-story buildings act as a residence and place of business, including a local brothel and boarding house whose prostitutes engage in tantric rituals that unlock past life recursions. Morpheum Street also hosts one of the city’s few reliable exorcist guilds, as well as a psychic detective agency.
This deep river originates from a spring atop nearby Mount Hyram. At its peak, the mountain remains above the snowline and captures moisture in the otherwise arid terrain. The natural spring combines with seasonal runoff, feeding the Zeph River which bisects the city.
This huge structure derives its name from its appearance as a massive animal talon jabbing at the sky. Over the centuries, the weaker half of the monument was pulled down when smiths learned to cut its strange black metal and repurpose it in smelting forges. The other half of the arch retains its structural integrity and contains a working elevator powered by an unknown energy source. It now serves as a landing pad and mooring point for zeppelins and smaller airships which venture further into the hinterlands, carrying passengers, delivering freight, and collecting goods for off-world trade.
Although the Coteries themselves do not traffic wholesale in slavery, Zel-Argose has no law against it, and many of them benefit by taxing such transactions. The Stockyards provide the city’s slave market. Shaded pens of wrought iron are rented (or licensed for up to a full year) to slavers, situated around numerous public auction blocks. On a busy day, three to four auctions might take place—two in the morning, and one or two more in the evening. It’s a buyer’s market when they accidentally occur simultaneously, as canny buyers may haggle with auctioneers between two different offerings.
Zel-Argose has many chapels but few true temples. Despite its modest name, this mid-sized religious stronghold has sustained itself on tithes and offerings in both good times and bad. Although the priests promote a benevolent message and offer food and sanctuary to the city’s impoverished children and homeless refugees from other worlds, many distrust their mysterious motives and inscrutable deity, Kytheklo.
One of Zel-Argose’s most unusual venues, Commarch’s is essentially a coffee and tea shop once the rumours and hype are stripped away. While innumerable bars and disreputable dives exist to strike shady and nefarious deals in Zel-Argose, only Commarch’s reliably enforces neutrality within its walls. Here, die-hard enemies can actually meet and converse under the watchful eyes of its mercane proprietor, his discreet guards, and various technologies recovered from a nearby Patron ruin.
Built on the ruins of an ancient Patron city, Zel-Argose has grown in population many times over by adding a continuous stream of immigrants through its many gates connecting to other worlds. Lost records can no longer identify the direct descendants of Argosa’s original inhabitants, but Patron ruins clearly point to that ancient civilization’s influence in crafting so many gates to the multiverse and fostering the development and evolution of many different species. One popular theory even suggests these powerful benefactors established their capital here, attracting, uplifting, or otherwise transporting other species to join them on Argosa.
In its more recent history, however, the contemporary city of Zel-Argose struggled to sustain a healthy, self-determined culture. Gangs, which rapidly transformed into criminal merchant cartels called Coteries, have seized the various planetary gates as the chief cornerstones in their rise to power. Their fractured rule and petty rivalries eventually gained an unsteady equilibrium which has remained the status quo since the city’s reoccupation.
While Argosa’s citizens rigorously pursue current events, no institution exists which makes chronicling ancient history a major priority. Indeed, Zel-Argose has many different cultures comprising its societal norms, and nearly all of them favor the almighty coin of commerce over the legacies of the past. Over the years, a constant influx of aliens and outside influences has further shaped Argosa’s society, investing in an effort to rediscover the mathematics, science, magic, and technology the Patrons used to build the planetary gates. As a multicultural melting pot, all manner of goods, services, and advancements have found their way into its markets. Further trade works and crafts have evolved out of the planet’s mineral resources, as well as scavenged components from Patron ruins.
The many gates created by the Patrons and the Principalities present a complex network referred to on most worlds as “The Weave”. The gates often connect to the next closest gate, but countless factors come into play when the entire network is examined. Planetary rotation, gravity wells, and other cosmological and even magical forces govern where, when, and how far the gates can open. For example, some may only function under specific conditions, such as an eclipse or certain planetary alignments. And others may require certain keys, knowledge, or intrinsic qualities in those attempting to access them.
Gates vary in functionality and external appearance, but adhere to some common elements. They universally accommodate a creature of around 10 feet in height or smaller, though some are known to be considerably larger giving rise to rumours of titans striding between worlds. They’re almost always found where humanoid creatures dwell, or have dwelt the ancient past. Gates may have singular or multiple connection points, although many are also fixed and unchanging. The actual entrance to a gate is always circular, whether perfectly round or oval or partially buried as an arc. All apparently operate in sync with the orbit of their homeworld around its given star, tapping into the gravity wells of this relationship to power and extend its reach to other solar systems and galaxies.
Beyond those basic qualities, gates vary greatly in function and outward appearance. A vertical upright metal ring is a common configuration, but numerous other gates have been found created from stone and set into ground. Some permit two-way traffic, while others are strictly one-way. Some gates are consistent and reliable, while others prove temperamental and fail from time to time. A few even require certain conditions to be met before they can open, such as a full moon, an eclipse, or a clear night to better read the heavens. A temperamental gate is often “ignited” with some form of intense energy to better stabilize it.
Select gates even alter those who pass through them to acclimatise them to their destination. Stories also circulate that certain “chosen” individuals manifest amazing abilities upon arrival on other worlds, a morphic manifestation which changes each and every time they pass through a gate.
The placement of gates often defy reason, but the time since their creation spans thousands of years and no extant species fully understands the secrets of their manufacture or the mystery behind their operation. Elder races realize there may once have been a context to their arrangement which no longer exists or became altered due to planetary upheaval, orbital changes, or the rise and fall of various civilizations tasked with maintaining them. As a result, the Gateway City of Zel-Argose is a mystery unto itself, and the many portals among its ruins may lead to more Patron enclaves where answers can be found and then applied to reaching even more worlds among the Weave of the multiverse.
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After finding ans paying for a luxury room, Biggun spent the next day or so hanging around the fighting arena, watching some of the smaller fights and getting a feel for the rules. Nodding to himself that it seemed like a good way to make some money, not to mention a good time, he promised that he would join in a few fights before they left this place.
As Rav finished the repairs on the little metal thing from the station, Biggun was surprised by its new personality. "Did Rav fix wrong thing?" he asked as he kneeled down and poked it.
Later on in the day, after the pleasantries of introducing himself and the horrors of being introduced to, Claptrap sets off by himself into the city proper to find out more about his new environment with a quick promise of Ill be back Masters!. He is brand new to the area and he has no idea what to expect, however gathering information and learning the local customs shouldnt prove to be THAT difficult for such a suave little robot.
After acquiring a local map from the Battle Pits he will head over to the Auditor’s Spire as his first stop and spend some time there processing as much about the laws and culture as he can in a short period, and at the same time keeping a (metalic) finger on the pulse of the more well-to-do citizens of Zel-Argose.
Later in the day Claptrap will head on over to the Bestiarium and study the different animals, mounts and livestock that are currently being kept there, often asking the handlers different questions about them (with the cover of "My Masters wish to know"). While he is there he also keeps an ear open about the goings on and rumors of the less-well-to-do citizens in the city.
Finally, when the sun is hanging low in the evening sky, Claptrap heads over to the Commarch’s bar for some good ol rest and relaxation. Once there he will order a coffee, with 2 sugars, 3 spoonfuls of cream and a dash of special sauce. He will then take it to one of the tables and sit down (he stands on the chair really) and enjoy himself, making sipping sounds on occasion with his hand on the mug and just listening to the ambient conversations, and maybe asking the barkeep for any rumors lately and other goings on.
Afterwards, when he leaves, and after a hearty tip to the barkeep, Claptrap will head on out the door (leaving a still steaming full cup of coffee siting on the counter) and head back to "home".
there he will find the others and;
Hey guys, miss me? Guess what I found out!
"Rav did not fix wrong thing. May fix Biggun if Biggun don't show more respect though. Told Biggun, lots of burny burny inside Brainer. Had to replace bits of Brainer with bits of other clockwork creatures." Rav rubs his nose and looks at Clap Trap. "May have mixed up bits of brains a bit when putting things back together. Scrap yard woman said this one..." He points to a pile of parts. "Was worthless hunk of junk, but had parts that fit, so had to use it. Case was in good shape, so took most of guts out, and put Brainer in old case. Had to pull lots of bits from other things though. See?" He points to a pile of burned circuitry. "That was burny in Brainer. Had to be replaced. Maybe brain a bit mixed up now. Rav sure it settle down eventually. Be like that story 'bout the Alchemist Palo told Relas and Rav about. One where he chop up already dead people and pick best body parts into one big creature. Be best combination of everyone. Best hands, best legs, best eyes, best ears, best brain. Really smart Alchemist! Rav new personal hero."
Smiling at the little robot and kneeling down, "Hello Claptrap. I am Vael."
Shooting a glare at Ravboom while he is bickering with Biggun. "You do not just throw together random parts and hope it works."
Rav glares back. "Not stupid, didn't put 'random parts together'. Found same kind parts in 10 different creatures, put parts that were similar in place. Not stupid, half-gear."
Hissing at Ravboom, "You said you might have mixed up peices and that you used what 'fit'. Your gun will not suffer if you do it wrong since it is just a thing."
CL4P-TP's whistlestop tour around Zel-Argose is all new to the sentient machine, if the 'Brainer' had ever been on Argosa then those memories seem to have been lost - either during its passage through the gate from Garsilt or during Ravboom's rebuilding.
At the Beastiarium, CL4P-TP discovers that many of the animals on display / sale here are in fact from off-world, it would seem that the authorities are not excessively concerned about the risks to any local flora / fauna that introducing new species would bring... indeed, the controls seem to be particularly lax and far more concerned with turning a profit than ensuring the safety of any prospective buyer. There are large mammals, even larger insects and a number of reptiles, apparently ornamental, available today but apparently most of the specimens in the compound have been purchased by the Yutani Corporation. CL4P-TP delves into his databanks to see if he can determine anything about the corporation... but finds nothing.
Heading to the huge spire, the machine researches the governmental workings of Zel-Argose - trying to determine who the movers and shakers of the city are... and discovers, more by inference and recorded innuendo than by hard facts, that the position of Auditor - effectively the ceremonial head of Zel-Argose - is little more than a puppet... and that the true power lies with the gangs that have established themselves in the city but actual detail on the Coteries, size, locations of operation, spheres of influence or interest, etc appears to be heavily censored.
CL4P-TP also researches the racial diversity of the city and discovers that the Auttaine actually outnumber the humans here - not by much but they are the most prevalent of the species... there are hundreds of other recorded species, including over 1,000 jagladine but there are no records of any 'goblins'... it seems that Biggun, Ravboom and Blekk are the only three of their race in the great city. Following up on the jagladine, CL4P-TP looks for records of Lomrick... and comes up against swathes of deleted data... he is, as far as the auditor is concerned, a ghost.
And finally, spending the evening in Commarch’s - CL4P-TP hears multiple folk talking about the latest drug sweeping the city, going by the name of Screen, it is fast becoming the drug of choice... although its supply is strictly controlled.
Meanwhile, Biggun spends the day at the Battle Pits... watching multiple fights it seems that there is something for everyone - fights to the death, solo fights, fights against beasts, reenactments of ancient battles... and so, with nothing having felt the bite of his chain for the last few days, Biggun signs up for a cage fight... with nothing available today, he is asked to come back in the morning...
Claptrap recoils in horror from the two,
Hey! Im not br/br/br/br/br/br/br/br/br *Claptrap jams a hand back inside his chassis and yanks out a wire* br/br/broken! I feel fine. FINE!
Then, as to alleviate all doubt about his functionality Claptrap does a quick two-step dance with a twist and ending with a Tada! See? I am exactly the same as you always remembered me ever since we met back on lvl 2 of the Garsilt Research Facility.
Perfectly normal.
Whew! Close one. They almost discovered that there are two of us in here. Cant let them take us apart again. But dont worry pal. Your seceretly safe in here. Hehehehehehe >:D
Glancing down at Claptrap, "Actually we have never met."