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

clock-work pests... they're always working to impose law and order upon the
multiverse. Not good, mind you... just law. Let's just forget about 'em and go
chat up the ladies, eh?"
Morte groaned, exasperated, when I approached it.
"Hi."
The modron's voice had a metallic, reverberating quality to it, as if it were
more a sound played out on some warped musical instrument than true
speech: "Your greeting is returned." There was a soft click as the creature
blinked. An awkward silence hung in the air between the two of us.
"I had some questions..."
"Identify yourself to us," it droned.
"I'm... Adahn," I lied.
The creature tilted slightly forward, then back, on its metallic legs - whether
the movement was meant to indicate a bow or a nod, I was unsure. "We
would identity ourselves as modrons, quadrone type, winged variant, to the
subject, Adahn."
"What are you doing here?"
"Our purpose here is observation."
I looked around. There were no busty modron females around, and thank
the Powers. The idea was somewhat disturbing, "What are you observing?"
"We are observing one of the establishment's staff."
I blinked, "Who?"
"As previously stated, we are observing one of the establishment's staff."
"Yes, but who exactly are you observing?"
"The object of our scrutiny is named 'Dolora.'"
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