Poor Zory. The Goomba, the indestructible, naughty Roomba somehow spawned in Zory's lair and spews goo everywhere. Its tires have caught in a rug and it is spewing nonsense, right out of indecent, Japanese animation.
Zory's private chambers are a place where he can relax at the commune. It's one of the places he likes to hoard his things from over the centuries, from old oil paintings, fancy jewelry, vhs tapes, old love letters, spellcasting supplies, basically anything he considers his own personal possessions.
He doesn't recall ever getting a moaning , moving plastic mess-maker.
"... Really, guys?" Chances are it was someone's idea of a prank, and there was no real use in getting worked up over it. He frowns, picking the thing up, ignoring the goop starting to muck up his hands. The rug is pulled up with it, and thank goodness there wasn't any furniture on top of it. Not that it would have mattered much, he was strong enough to move anything in here by himself.
So it doesn't make as much of a mess of his room, he takes the still-spewing mobile hockey puck thing out of his room. He flexes one of his claws and starts to pick at the tires, trying to dislodge his rug first and foremost. Then he can start dealing with the mess and what to do with this thing.
