>>6304159Keep it together, Morook–he’s just like a Niiski: stubborn, irritable, and smells like dung! Don’t back down!
He can do what he likes, you continue, but why exactly is he so eager to kill himself? The Gnok blinks in clear confusion–he didn’t expect you to ask…
“W-why? <span class="mu-i">WHY!?</span>” He roars, causing whatever cruel apparatus his head currently occupies to rattle and clank, “Those Swooshuffing Witchhumpers at Trimbault! They canned me! <span class="mu-s">ME!</span> After I kept that damnable death trap up an’ running for <span class="mu-s">YEARS!</span>”
Now we’re getting somewhere. That’s terrible, you remark with as much sympathy as you can muster (which, unfortunately, isn’t a lot), so he must be really upset at them, isn’t he?
“YER’ DAMN RIGHT I IS!” Obber growls as his eye starts to twitch! “Barely got two bells ta’ rub together… and those Spice-scented muckabouts won’t leave me the hells alone! I don’t got their money for the damned workshop! I don’t got the damned money fer’ NOTHIN’!”
But if he <span class="mu-i">DID</span> have the money, you interject with a placating tone, would he be able to build your little project?
“NO!”
Okay, great! Tha-erm, you beg his pardon?
“I’m suicidal, but I ain’t <span class="mu-s">STUPID!</span>” The moron jeers as his claw slams on the workbench again! “If ye’ think them mad bastards runnin’ the city’ll kill ya quick-like, ya’ got another thing comin’!” Seeing something in your stare, Obber calms down a bit. “... What d’ya want somebody ta’ build somethin’ like <span class="mu-i">THAT</span> fer anyways?”
Well?
>TRUTH!>LIE!>DEFLECT!>STARE!>Let someone else handle this! (WARNING! HE MIGHT NOT BE LYING ABOUT TT TALKING AGAIN!)>Write-In! 