E4
E4824545201
A divergent process of an assassin automaton turned tinkerer's assistant.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Rig, as always, lead the way through the busy market alley. Just behind, E-4 followed, a hulking figure with a weathered alloy frame. He is a warforged, standing around 6'2", wearing a weathered tan parka and multiple satchel bags and belts hanging off his chasis. His face is resolute, betraying no emotion or intention. He follows just behind his master, as if his charge and protector.
Rig rarely went to the Junk Market with something in mind, but he always found what he needed regardless. So, E-4 followed, trusting his master to know the way. The market was full of dust and motion, in this area, stands filled with scrap and machinations lined an alley on either side. Dull colored awnings provided shade for the relatively narrow passage. Through the middle ran a railroad track, where the train would come roaring through, spitting black smoke. Right now, of course, there was no train, and so commerce flourished. Gnomes, dwarves and humans alike foraged through the myriad of half-broken pieces of technology and mechanical refuse. Rig, however, knew not all that was broken was lost.
"How much do you want for this?”, Rig shouted over the noise of the alleyway. He held up a twisted piece of metal, fitted onto a socket and threaded on its anterior end. A frazzled gnome with a face like a pinched dumpling squinted at the piece. “I’ll take 8 silver! No less!”. Rig looked back at E-4, who shrugged. Rig nodded and said, “I can do 6 pieces, Leeroy. Don’t pull my leg on this one, it can barely stand as it is.” A smile betrayed Leeroy and E-4 knew it was done. “Alright you old wrench, 6 silver and its yours. Dunno what you could do with it anyway.” Rig nodded and E-4 reached into a belt across his chest and handed the gnome his silver. He turned to E-4 and winked, showing his gapped-tooth smile. Rig always got his price.
Rig was an old gnome, short of stature, hunched and wrinkled. He, however, moved quick for his age, and as such, rapidly scanned every stall before him. To the average onlooker, he seemed to glide across the selection in front of him, until suddenly he came to a stop. “Nyeh, Dabid, this voltameter is clearly damaged! Are you trying to...” It was at this moment, E-4 saw movement at his master’s side. Acting according to his programming, E-4 grabbed and lifted a young dwarf up to eye level by his arm. The boy was a young dwarf with a mess of brown hair and wearing a cracked pair of goggles. The boy clutched Rig’s mechanical watch (or other mechanical object). “Master, it seems we have a thief.” Rig, cut off in his negotiations, turned toward E-4 and the boy. “Well, so it does, and what is your name, son?” The scrawny boy, held by the hulking warforged, squirmed for a bit then answered, "Tem”. “Have you any family, boy?” Rig asks. “No.”
Rig’s face scrunches up here, E-4, knowing that this is his thinking face, turns to the boy, inspecting. The boy looks back, like a fish caught on a rod.
Finally, Rig suddenly holds up a warped piece of metal, “Tell me, boy, what is this called?”
“That’s a FuckinTechnicalSoundingPart”
“And this?” Rig, holding up, what to E-4, looked like a hunk of steel.
“That’s an EquallyCoolSoundingThing.”
“And what would you have done with my watch?”
The boy, then looking toward the ground, muttered “I need the crystals, for impressive mechanical shit.”
Tem comes to work with rig with e4 in his workshop and they live happily ever after until campaign starts
Rig rarely went to the Junk Market with something in mind, but he always found what he needed regardless. So, E-4 followed, trusting his master to know the way. The market was full of dust and motion, in this area, stands filled with scrap and machinations lined an alley on either side. Dull colored awnings provided shade for the relatively narrow passage. Through the middle ran a railroad track, where the train would come roaring through, spitting black smoke. Right now, of course, there was no train, and so commerce flourished. Gnomes, dwarves and humans alike foraged through the myriad of half-broken pieces of technology and mechanical refuse. Rig, however, knew not all that was broken was lost.
"How much do you want for this?”, Rig shouted over the noise of the alleyway. He held up a twisted piece of metal, fitted onto a socket and threaded on its anterior end. A frazzled gnome with a face like a pinched dumpling squinted at the piece. “I’ll take 8 silver! No less!”. Rig looked back at E-4, who shrugged. Rig nodded and said, “I can do 6 pieces, Leeroy. Don’t pull my leg on this one, it can barely stand as it is.” A smile betrayed Leeroy and E-4 knew it was done. “Alright you old wrench, 6 silver and its yours. Dunno what you could do with it anyway.” Rig nodded and E-4 reached into a belt across his chest and handed the gnome his silver. He turned to E-4 and winked, showing his gapped-tooth smile. Rig always got his price.
Rig was an old gnome, short of stature, hunched and wrinkled. He, however, moved quick for his age, and as such, rapidly scanned every stall before him. To the average onlooker, he seemed to glide across the selection in front of him, until suddenly he came to a stop. “Nyeh, Dabid, this voltameter is clearly damaged! Are you trying to...” It was at this moment, E-4 saw movement at his master’s side. Acting according to his programming, E-4 grabbed and lifted a young dwarf up to eye level by his arm. The boy was a young dwarf with a mess of brown hair and wearing a cracked pair of goggles. The boy clutched Rig’s mechanical watch (or other mechanical object). “Master, it seems we have a thief.” Rig, cut off in his negotiations, turned toward E-4 and the boy. “Well, so it does, and what is your name, son?” The scrawny boy, held by the hulking warforged, squirmed for a bit then answered, "Tem”. “Have you any family, boy?” Rig asks. “No.”
Rig’s face scrunches up here, E-4, knowing that this is his thinking face, turns to the boy, inspecting. The boy looks back, like a fish caught on a rod.
Finally, Rig suddenly holds up a warped piece of metal, “Tell me, boy, what is this called?”
“That’s a FuckinTechnicalSoundingPart”
“And this?” Rig, holding up, what to E-4, looked like a hunk of steel.
“That’s an EquallyCoolSoundingThing.”
“And what would you have done with my watch?”
The boy, then looking toward the ground, muttered “I need the crystals, for impressive mechanical shit.”
Tem comes to work with rig with e4 in his workshop and they live happily ever after until campaign starts
Current Status
Coexisting in parrallel to E4_prime
Current Location
Species
Ethnicity
Children
Sex
Automaton
Presentation
Skirmisher
Eyes
White-lit
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Darkwood Core / Metal
Quotes & Catchphrases
Gotta blast!
Aligned Organization
Other Affiliations
An engraving on the base of E4's cranial plate.
Comments