Outside the town of Eckledun...
Sigmund figures there's no need to particularly rush. After all, they seem to be in no danger presently.
"You can perfectly pass as a friend of us if you wish, I guess. As long as nobody here knows the former owners of these bodies, we should be fine. Speaking about that, I think that this vessel is called Bertha," he tells Art, pointing at himself. "And that over there is Gertrude," he says, pointing at Mark. "And that one over there is Lisbet," he indicates Kevin.
"Well, I guess. Not like I'd have a better explanation for being around town than that," Art says, shrugging. Sigmund, meanwhile, tries to find out what the enchantments on their collective instruments might be - his available memories, when compared with an empirical examination, seem to be misleading - the instruments appear to be magically tuned, if that makes sense. The sound they make appears to be magically altered in a way that doesn't make too much sense to Sigmund. But it does seem like the enchantments on all three instruments are similar - not the same, but similar. Maybe their sound has some emergent property?
The next few minutes are spent as the others look at Mark playing the bongo after he hands the lute to Kevin - he doesn't seem to be very good at it, strangely enough. And yet it is a bit fascinating to hear the tones it produces, even though the inexpert playing and slight lack of enthusiasm does impact the quality of the sound.
Somewhere in Mothdale...
Scott thinks that maybe one should not ask too many questions of the gub. After all, the gub tend to be... peevish if one asks too many questions. Or so Scott surmises, at least. And peevish gub are truly in nobody's best interest, are they? Following that train of thought, he decides that what the people around here need is a distraction.
[Scott's firestarting roll: 2]
He begins to think about what sort of small, unimportant thing would be most appropriate for a bit of spontaneous combustion. The obvious answer is himself, but Scott doesn't really like that answer. He feels he has been on fire for quite long enough, thank you very much. And as he considers the various alternatives (there are few - a wandering cat here and a pile of trash there, you know), he suddenly realizes that he has utterly failed to prevent Morton from attempting that most dangerous of endeavors, diplomacy with the gub.
"Good group Gub, if I may perhaps offer some possible perspective? Most I know would fear such an action, many tend to be most appreciative and treasure the freedom of mind and body, to be given and maintain autonomy. I fear this may cause Mothdale to become a place to avoid than to flock to, sadly, once word were to get out. Good group Gub, I dearly believe that with your gifts and talents you could have this city become a center of safety and opportunity, a true, genuine gem. Those who have skills you wish to learn could teach you, and aid you in building a city to truly be a marvel, in exchange for stay and new chances, to make a new start. Perhaps a middle ground could be reached, if you truly wish to have others become one with you, but I'm afraid I must preface this with a question. How does the passage of time affect one such as you, good group Gub? If age truly wears you not, such is not the same on those who would live within this prospective city. Perhaps if one were to pass, they could possibly become one with you instead of passing on? I imagine that may be much more palatable to those whom may wish to live here."
~all of those sound like very reasonable ideas, morton! we will do our best to put them into practice!~ the gub says. That went quite well, Morton supposes.
At the Temple of Automaton Worship...
Darren begins to feel a little nervous.
"Well... What are you teaching me, exactly?" he asks cautiously as he follows his friend to the altar.
"I'm not going to be teaching you so much as we'll both learn exciting things about each other," the ghost says as he floats over to the altar. "You've got any preferences, friend? Any particular shape I should take to get you going? I guess that's still an important thing, right?"
"This should be quite interesting to watch," the statue notes without inflection, looming over the altar as Darren and his friend reach it.