Narissth points at the box along the NW wall.
Octagonal rods. Octagonal holes. We should see if this opens something.
With that, he takes the small red rod to see whether it fits in the hole in the box against the wall.
Shattertooth follows suit.
Narissth glances at Shattertooth as he inserts his rod and notices a lack of dental hygiene, this leads to the man-rat contemplating whether his tall companion's name is a cause, or an effect.
Zika shrugs and does as the other two are doing, with a wide grin at Glom-Glom.
Glom-Glom returns the grin - scraps of stew hanging from his stuffed chops.
He wanders up to where the others are involving themselves in yet more puzzling activities. The feral goblin attempts a question, but it is garbled in gluttony:
"Whut ruh rhyhing ruh tro dwuh?"
Narissth, getting tired of the incessant goblin antics glares at the pair.
Put your rods in the holes. It is clearly what we are intended to do.
Zika's rod glows upon her touch and the goblin notes a faint pleasant yet unplaceable smell in the air. Glom-glom notes a slight tingle in his skin when he holds his.
Insered into the strange contraption the 4 rods fit fully into the machine, leaving only flickering ends of color flush with the metal body. There is a long pause of inactivity and then the rods are gently ejected from the box.
Shattertooth glares at the rod. Stupid machine... He kicks it and retrieves his rod. Lets go. I grow tired of these secrets and shadows...
Glom-Glom shakes himself and grins;
"Oh-ho! Now Hob-A-Gob is tired and bored of thing-a-me-bobs, and whirlygigs..."
The feral runt dances a jig around the imposing Shattertooth, clutching his pot of (now) gravy and scraps.
-Posted with Wayfinder