Piggy Bank

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A piggy bank is a scripted personal coin bank that can allow its user to deposit coins into their bank accounts from anywhere up to three times daily.

LOOK

The bank is basically a small box topped by a three-dimensional scene, all crafted in metal.  The jointed toy woodsman figure seems poised to move.
There's a narrow slot, just the right size for coins, on the side.

Analyze

You analyze your toy woodsman bank and sense that there is no recorded information on that item.  It may or may not be able to be worked on by a merchant alterer.

Verb Traps

Loresong

One smooth side of the bank shimmers as though silvery gauze were laid over it and a scene appears there, faded around the edges but nearly clear in the center.

You see an exceedingly sour-faced tinker gnome hunched over a worktable, small metal gears and tools scattered over the top.  She squints through her thick spectacles and mutters fiercely to herself as her fingers assemble pieces of metal into tiny moveable figures.  Standing up to stretch, she takes a jar containing a few silvers from a nearby shelf and stares at the slotted lid.  She glances at the figures, then back at the jar in her hand.  As if inspired by her thoughts, she grabs a scrap of metal and begins to etch a diagram upon it.

The shimmering image fades away.


The silver shimmering answers to your song, bringing the same workshop into view, the tinker gnome hard at work again.

Another gnome knocks at the room's open doorframe and edges in as if uncertain of his welcome.  The craftswoman kicks a stool out from under the worktable and roughly motions to him to be seated.  "Did ya bring da signed parchmint?" she asks.  "Yeps I gots it right heres," says her guest.  "Lemme see!" she growls, setting down her tools and the figures.  "Does it gots da seals o' all da banks?  I kin't do da job unless I'se got all o' dem agreed!"

The visiting gnome nods and pulls a large rolled parchment from inside his vest, pointing out the row of various wax seals along the bottom edge.  The tinker grabs it from him.  Squinting closely, she reads with one grubby fingertip leading her eyesight along the words.  With a look of satisfaction she sits up and pulls a gem from her apron pocket, handing it to the visitor.  He takes it, then hesitates.  "Final paymint when I makes deliv'ry!" she sneers at him as the image fades.


Your song again coaxes a shimmering scene into view.

The tinker gnome is holding a small metal box in her hands, turning it this way and that, closely inspecting her work.  She pushes some silvers into a slot, and little metal figures on top begin to move.  She makes some adjustments, then pushes more silvers in.  Suddenly the top flips to reveal a different set of little figures.

After adding more silvers to the toy bank, she makes a final adjustment and seals the workings.  Nodding to herself, she tilts it and turns something on the bottom, then taps the coins out of the box into her hand.

She looks pleased, or as close to pleased as a tinker gnome gets, before the scene darkens and disappears.


The next vision comes into focus with the tinker gnome approaching a smoky cave, huffing as though she's climbed a great distance.

An old wizard walks out to greet her with pleasure, the unlikely pair obviously old friends.  They enter the cave which is cluttered with bubbling cauldrons and glass beakers, all manner of dried roots and animal parts hanging from the ceiling or stored in jars, and sit before the fireplace.

She takes a metal box from her backpack and hands it to him to inspect.  After much discussion and sharing some stew and ale, he agrees to add some magic to the box.

Again the image fades away.


The shimmering scene drawn forth with your song shows the tinker gnome in an office where a tall well-dressed elf is inspecting the metal box.  

"How does it work?" he asks.  "Gimme sum silvers 'n I'll show ya," she replies.  He hands her a small sack of coins, and the tinker pushes them in, the figures on top jerking into motion. "I need a bunch more t'make da magic part work."  He grudgingly gives her a bigger sack, and watches closely as she puts the figures through their routine over and over.  She lets the elf feel the weight of the box, then takes it from him and waves it.

A bank clerk runs in from the outer office a moment later, whispers to the elf and leaves.  "It seems to work as you promised," the elf says, "and only for the owner?"  "A'course!  I nevver promise anyt'ing I kin't make," she proudly states as the vision fades and vanishes.
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