"Do you like them?" Trazyn preened before a mirror held up by a pair of mindshackled vassals. "PAH... Your obsession with these oddities and artifacts never ceases to find new ways to waste my time, artificer." The Chronomancer's mono-eye darted over-quickly to the floor. "Come now Orikan my friend, once many of us possessed these...how do you call them, big mother milkba-" "mommy MILKERS" Orikan snapped, Trazyn held a necrodermis claw to his ample bosom, aghast. "Why my DEAR, I had no idea you were so cultured." His chuckling as he returned to hefting and hoisting his shapely, heavy additions overwrote the pointless grumbling of his...what did the texts refer to such ever-hesitant servants? Ah yes, 'frenemies'.
i need other people to look at this right now