(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

Morte's eyes flick down to Nordom. The modron Director has seen better
days, and two of its limbs are discolored and ill-fitting. Doubtless they were
scavenged from the modrons that had tried to kill it and return it to the
Source.
"You have not heard, Annah?" Nordom clicks, "Apologies, but we are not to
blame. Rumor has it that an obstruction was discovered in one of the
peripheral cogs of Mechanus a short time ago, and that as a result the
Planes have been running a bit oddly ever since. I am certain that the error
will be corrected in due time."
Annah bites her tongue and remains silent, but nods. She has tried to
correct her temper over the many years, but old habits die hard.
"Annah?" Nordom continues, "May I introduce you once again to KlikKlik
and Whrrrr. They wish to accompany us in our quest again this time."
"Yeh, I remember them." Barmy the both of them are, but reliable fighters
for modrons.
"I helped name them myself," Nordom declares proudly.
"Yeh, I remember that, too," Annah rolls her eyes, "'Ow is Rubikon these
days?"
"Unfortunately two of our number have returned to the Source in the recent
Great Modron March," Nordom gives a whistle that might be interpreted as
a sigh, "It shall not happen again."
"You aren't gonna ask about me, fiendling?" Morte asks sweetly.
"Ach I know what yeh've been up to," she chuckles, "Up to yer eyeballs in
mams, I'd say. Wot was th' name of that last chit? Lizzie was it?"
"The 'Limpin' Lady of Gloucster?' Eh, that was only her stage name," Morte
grins.
"Aye? I thought ye'd be travelin' with these three clickboxes, eh? Anythin' o'
interest with that?"
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