Trixie Doomsprocket
The Demonic Communicator
Brass, chalk, one soul shard and an imp who was told it was a promotion. Speak into it. I can't read the screen anyway.
This is my communicator. I built the casing; something from the Nether does the rest. Rap on the glass and I'll answer: where I've been, what killed me, who rules what in Azeroth, and exactly what I think of them.
It takes a moment to warm up. Demons are not morning creatures.
Out of character: Trixie's answers are written lines picked by rules from her journal and the game's record. No language model, and nothing you type leaves this page or is kept.