A flying, whirring contraption descends from above. It hovers to eye-level, and a crude speaker system begins to transmit a gruff, metallic voice. It sounds Orcish in nature.
"Is this damned thing on? Slimy Goblins and their unreliable *crackles*. Well, if you can hear me, I've sent this device to you seeking aid. They call me Nepkal, and my kinsmen have abandoned me. I have been left alone to stand against the *crackles* Alliance pigdogs. I look for new comrades of similar mind and ability, to slau- *crackles* those who would stand against us! Be they Alliance, Scourge, or this coming threat of the Iron Horde. If this contraption manages to reach you, please, send help. Okay, now where's the power switch on this infernal thi-". The device shorts out, and falls onto the ground in a small, fiery heap.
A flying, whirring contraption descends from above.
Moderator: Officers
Re: A flying, whirring contraption descends from above.
As Syreena enters the guild hall with a fresh stack of papers, she pauses to watch the engineering....thing. She looks down at Ber, the worg runt at her heels, who has his ears pricked forward, tilting his head back and forth at the thing.
The little rogue has no idea if the voice is live or a recording. She holds up one of the papers from her arms, a copy of Inquisitor Office Hours. She also starts to speak to the thing, but then it seems to malfunction.
With a shrug, she sticks the paper on the thing and continues into the guild hall.
The little rogue has no idea if the voice is live or a recording. She holds up one of the papers from her arms, a copy of Inquisitor Office Hours. She also starts to speak to the thing, but then it seems to malfunction.
With a shrug, she sticks the paper on the thing and continues into the guild hall.
Alts: Lirsha Deathwhistle & Ayidda
Re: A flying, whirring contraption descends from above.
Dreadweaver Bloodstar stomped down the Halls from his den to the back gate. The goblin-designed plumbing that he had installed within his quarters had finally broken down in a festering cataclysm of orc waste, and the outdoor latrine was his last resort.
"Bloody fel! Pissing cold out here for this season!" He shouted, returning after having relieved himself.
Passing by the High Inquisitor's office, he sniffed the air, catching the scent of burning parchment. Khorvis crashed through the door into the empty room to witness a strange flying device whipping about the room, screaming its last recording, with flaming papers stuck to its chassis!
"Gah!!! Not the records! Ms. Syreena will have my hide!" the orc screamed and leapt atop the goblin machine, pinning it to the inlaid stone floor. Listening to the transmission, Khorvis's eyes widened and he responded by holding up the drone with both meaty fists and screaming into its receiver:
"Give me your coordinates, so that I might beat the bleeding fel out of your damnable carcass!"
"Bloody fel! Pissing cold out here for this season!" He shouted, returning after having relieved himself.
Passing by the High Inquisitor's office, he sniffed the air, catching the scent of burning parchment. Khorvis crashed through the door into the empty room to witness a strange flying device whipping about the room, screaming its last recording, with flaming papers stuck to its chassis!
"Gah!!! Not the records! Ms. Syreena will have my hide!" the orc screamed and leapt atop the goblin machine, pinning it to the inlaid stone floor. Listening to the transmission, Khorvis's eyes widened and he responded by holding up the drone with both meaty fists and screaming into its receiver:
"Give me your coordinates, so that I might beat the bleeding fel out of your damnable carcass!"
