The Rise of Felskein [Completed]
- Thread starter Iron Sky
- Start date
Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 15, Part 2
The Boulder finally came to rest next to what had to be the Rift. It was as if a continuous rock slide was falling from out of the clear sky and coming to a stop not ten feet from the ground. Occasionally, a rock would clatter out of the rift and some of these rolled off on their own. The rumble was deafening. Suniel was looking about for whatever passed for the leader of the elementals when what he thought was a cliff-face moved.
“Earthquake Moves,” the boulder that had escorted them rumbled in Ignan.
Suniel stared as the “cliff face” toppled over, slamming into the ground ten feet from where Suniel and Keeper stood.
Suniel bowed deeply and collected a couple small rocks and began clattering them together and stomping.
“Hail great one, we come to offer our services against the forces of air against which you battle.” Suniel's Ignan was rusty, so he really hoped he was saying what he thought he was saying.
“How would it help against the wind? It is one flesh thing and a fleck of iron,” it rumbled back.
“Perhaps I could help negotiate peace between you. Surely you can see that this war you wage can never be won?”
“What does the flesh thing know of this? The wind-hate goes to the core, only the Cursed Ones bear more hate,” the massive thing shifted, as if somehow agitated by the conversation.
“Bring one,” it rumbled.
What Suniel had thought of as a loose pile of rubble formed into a vaguely humanoid form and moved off to the far side of the rift. When it returned, a tiny gnome child twisted and thrashed in its rocky grip.
Suniel knew what was next and raised his hands. “Please, great one, spare the little one. It knew nothing of what they did. Surely your vengeance must be sated now! Return to your realm, leave this world. What do you hope to accomplish here?”
The massive boulder heaved into the air, its immensity made it seem to move almost in slow motion. Suniel and Keeper moved back quickly and the earth elemental that heard the gnome fell apart into the rubble. The gnome child screamed.
Earthquake Moves hit the ground hard enough to knock Suniel from his feet and rattle more pieces from what few ruins still stood nearby. When the dust settled, Suniel rose to his feet, disgusted.
“We will push the wind back into their realm and then we will claim this world too, rule its dirt and rock and stone. We will press every Cursed One into the dirt, press them out, roll them under us and even this will not be enough to repay the slavery they imposed.” Earthquake Moves' Ignan speech rumbled out as an earthquake, buckling the ground around it with its intensity.
Suniel shook his head. “Then this is a fruitless gesture. I will go now.” He turned to leave, back the way they had come.
“No.” The word rumbled through the soles of his feet. “You will aid us. You will bring us more Cursed Ones that we may press into the earth or you will go nowhere.”
“Then I will go no where,” Suniel said, sitting down on a nearby rubble-pile and staring up at the immense elemental. He stared up at it, gritting his teeth for a moment. Then, without looking away he spoke.
“He said nothing of you coming or going Keeper. Head back to the ship and let the others know my predicament.”
He watched carefully for any sign that Earthquake Moves would stop Keeper. It sat still as a mountain as Keeper left, leaving Suniel again at an impasse.
***
Harold ran hard through the ruins, glancing behind him to see if any of the elementals were still pursuing. A quick glance showed nothing, but ducked inside a half-crumbled tower anyway. He was heading deeper into the ruins when he tripped over something in the shadowy dark. Cursing he felt around, eventually finding a small but heavy chest half-buried in fallen, half-burned timbers. He popped it open and his eyes widened.
Need something to do while I'm waiting for them to give up on looking for me anyway, he thought, starting to count the coins. Guess this venture wasn't a total waste of time.
***
Kezzek awoke to a face looming over his. Instinctively, he reached to throttle it, his orc blood raging, but the figure was too quick, moving just out of reach.
“Hold there Greywarden, it's Harold,” the figure said, slowly coming into focus.
His orcish side was screaming for blood but he managed to resist long enough for it to simmer down. “Harold,” he was finally able to say as he examined the bandages wrapped about his arms and chest. “How in the bloody hell we're sitting in the middle of did you find me?”
Harold gestured behind him at a dozen tiny whirlwinds that danced about them. “They led me here, good thing too. Looks like something half-killed you.”
“Which half? I think I could handle losing the orc side sometimes,” Kezzek said with a grunt and a wince as he stood. He looked up at the black tornado roaring high into the sky to the west.
“Well, I've talked with the leader of Fire,” Harold said. “Big green bonfire that called itself Greenpyre.”
“And?” Kezzek said as he pulled his Gauntlet on.
“Let's just say it's probably not a good idea to go back there."
Kezzek grunted.
“Well, might as well get moving,” Kezzek said, pointing towards the tornado. “I think we need to go talk with that.”
***
Kezzek felt like he was leaning almost parallel to the ground by the time he was able to reach the wind-blasted plateau around the giant tornado. As he approached, a second twister detached from the massive Rift-tornado and drifted towards him, stopping only when it was so close he had to cling to a craggy outcropping to keep from being blown away.
“I come to ask you to give up this pointless war against the Water. Close your Rift and return to whence you came, this is no place for you,” he shouted, voice straining with the effort of shouting over the wind.
“Our Rift grows wider,” the wind boomed back. “When the Rifts of Wind and Fire and Stone close and the last of the Cursed Ones is torn apart and their remains scattered to the four winds of the place, then will we return.”
“But that will never happen! Anyone can see that this war you are waging is pointless,” Kezzek said. “In this world, does the sea or the wind or the fire or rock ever win? How will any one of you ever find victory here?”
“If it takes ten times the span we were in bondage to snuff out the other Rifts, then that will be soon enough. If we are blown back through our Rift in defeat, the knowledge that whichever remains will destroy that vortex of Cursed Ones we left in place to collect the Cursed Ones all from the four winds, then that will be enough.”
“Vortex of the Cursed Ones?” Kezzek shouted. Then it came to him. Watersprock! They left alone so that the gnomes would gather there within easy striking distance! He stared at the swirling, somehow malevolent swirling black wind that swayed before him and swore, using the rock to pull himself away until the wind had died down enough for him to stand.
“It didn't kill you, that's something at least,” Harold said. “Any luck?”
Kezzek just growled in return. “Let's get back to the ship.”
***
Suniel was just about to give up when he saw Keeper appear out of the ruins, Harold close behind.
“I see Keeper reached the ship,” Suniel said.
Harold nodded and looked over at the Stone Rift, glancing right past Earthquake Moves. “Yes, just as I reached it myself. So what's the situation here?”
“Simple. He says I either bring him more gnomes to slaughter or I don't leave.”
“Ah, that. Don't worry, I've dealt with this before,” Harold said. “Where's their leader?”
Suniel pointed at Earthquake Moves. “That.”
Harold stared at it for a minute. “What, behind the cliff? Oh. That's their leader?”
Before Suniel could answer, Harold was walking up to it.
“You there, I have a message for you,” Harold said, shouting up at the rock. “We'll bring you more gnomes, we just need to go get them. Give us some time, we'll get a bunch, bring them back.”
He stood staring up at it and Suniel half-expected Earthquake Moves to shift once and flatten him. Instead, a boom echoed out, sending Suniel and Harold staggering. Suniel motioned Harold over quickly when he caught Harold's eyes.
“What was that?” Harold said as he approached.
“He said yes,” Keeper said.
Suniel looked sharply at the construct. “You speak Ignan?”
Keeper's looked back, expressionless as ever. “No. Why?”
“Well, regardless, what did you just agree to?” Suniel said. “There's no way I'm going to do that.”
“Exactly,” Harold whispered, leaning in. “I agreed to the same thing with Greenpyre. I don't know about you, but there's no way I'm ever coming back here again. Are you?”
***
“Wait, you're saying you saw a silver turtle here?” Kezzek said.
Guntl and many of the other crew members nodded. “Yes, it went to the beach, opened its mouth, and a figure walked into the city with what looked like a crate. It didn't move an inch the whole time until a few hours later when he returned. Then it swallowed him and headed west. I could see the bubbles.”
There was a moment of silence as everyone took the information in. Finally Harold spoke.
“Our course takes us west. The journey to the Crystal Towers that is. We can keep an eye out for the turtle as we go.”
“And warn Watersprock,” Suniel added. “If what Kezzek found out was true, the little city we were helping organize is a trap.”
There was another silence. Then Keeper strode from Suniel's side towards the aft-castle, shouting at the crew as he went. “Avast! Make ready the sails. You sailors or landlubbers?
The others all glanced at Suniel who simply raised his hands and shrugged.
“Don't ask me, I just turned him on.”
The Boulder finally came to rest next to what had to be the Rift. It was as if a continuous rock slide was falling from out of the clear sky and coming to a stop not ten feet from the ground. Occasionally, a rock would clatter out of the rift and some of these rolled off on their own. The rumble was deafening. Suniel was looking about for whatever passed for the leader of the elementals when what he thought was a cliff-face moved.
“Earthquake Moves,” the boulder that had escorted them rumbled in Ignan.
Suniel stared as the “cliff face” toppled over, slamming into the ground ten feet from where Suniel and Keeper stood.
Suniel bowed deeply and collected a couple small rocks and began clattering them together and stomping.
“Hail great one, we come to offer our services against the forces of air against which you battle.” Suniel's Ignan was rusty, so he really hoped he was saying what he thought he was saying.
“How would it help against the wind? It is one flesh thing and a fleck of iron,” it rumbled back.
“Perhaps I could help negotiate peace between you. Surely you can see that this war you wage can never be won?”
“What does the flesh thing know of this? The wind-hate goes to the core, only the Cursed Ones bear more hate,” the massive thing shifted, as if somehow agitated by the conversation.
“Bring one,” it rumbled.
What Suniel had thought of as a loose pile of rubble formed into a vaguely humanoid form and moved off to the far side of the rift. When it returned, a tiny gnome child twisted and thrashed in its rocky grip.
Suniel knew what was next and raised his hands. “Please, great one, spare the little one. It knew nothing of what they did. Surely your vengeance must be sated now! Return to your realm, leave this world. What do you hope to accomplish here?”
The massive boulder heaved into the air, its immensity made it seem to move almost in slow motion. Suniel and Keeper moved back quickly and the earth elemental that heard the gnome fell apart into the rubble. The gnome child screamed.
Earthquake Moves hit the ground hard enough to knock Suniel from his feet and rattle more pieces from what few ruins still stood nearby. When the dust settled, Suniel rose to his feet, disgusted.
“We will push the wind back into their realm and then we will claim this world too, rule its dirt and rock and stone. We will press every Cursed One into the dirt, press them out, roll them under us and even this will not be enough to repay the slavery they imposed.” Earthquake Moves' Ignan speech rumbled out as an earthquake, buckling the ground around it with its intensity.
Suniel shook his head. “Then this is a fruitless gesture. I will go now.” He turned to leave, back the way they had come.
“No.” The word rumbled through the soles of his feet. “You will aid us. You will bring us more Cursed Ones that we may press into the earth or you will go nowhere.”
“Then I will go no where,” Suniel said, sitting down on a nearby rubble-pile and staring up at the immense elemental. He stared up at it, gritting his teeth for a moment. Then, without looking away he spoke.
“He said nothing of you coming or going Keeper. Head back to the ship and let the others know my predicament.”
He watched carefully for any sign that Earthquake Moves would stop Keeper. It sat still as a mountain as Keeper left, leaving Suniel again at an impasse.
***
Harold ran hard through the ruins, glancing behind him to see if any of the elementals were still pursuing. A quick glance showed nothing, but ducked inside a half-crumbled tower anyway. He was heading deeper into the ruins when he tripped over something in the shadowy dark. Cursing he felt around, eventually finding a small but heavy chest half-buried in fallen, half-burned timbers. He popped it open and his eyes widened.
Need something to do while I'm waiting for them to give up on looking for me anyway, he thought, starting to count the coins. Guess this venture wasn't a total waste of time.
***
Kezzek awoke to a face looming over his. Instinctively, he reached to throttle it, his orc blood raging, but the figure was too quick, moving just out of reach.
“Hold there Greywarden, it's Harold,” the figure said, slowly coming into focus.
His orcish side was screaming for blood but he managed to resist long enough for it to simmer down. “Harold,” he was finally able to say as he examined the bandages wrapped about his arms and chest. “How in the bloody hell we're sitting in the middle of did you find me?”
Harold gestured behind him at a dozen tiny whirlwinds that danced about them. “They led me here, good thing too. Looks like something half-killed you.”
“Which half? I think I could handle losing the orc side sometimes,” Kezzek said with a grunt and a wince as he stood. He looked up at the black tornado roaring high into the sky to the west.
“Well, I've talked with the leader of Fire,” Harold said. “Big green bonfire that called itself Greenpyre.”
“And?” Kezzek said as he pulled his Gauntlet on.
“Let's just say it's probably not a good idea to go back there."
Kezzek grunted.
“Well, might as well get moving,” Kezzek said, pointing towards the tornado. “I think we need to go talk with that.”
***
Kezzek felt like he was leaning almost parallel to the ground by the time he was able to reach the wind-blasted plateau around the giant tornado. As he approached, a second twister detached from the massive Rift-tornado and drifted towards him, stopping only when it was so close he had to cling to a craggy outcropping to keep from being blown away.
“I come to ask you to give up this pointless war against the Water. Close your Rift and return to whence you came, this is no place for you,” he shouted, voice straining with the effort of shouting over the wind.
“Our Rift grows wider,” the wind boomed back. “When the Rifts of Wind and Fire and Stone close and the last of the Cursed Ones is torn apart and their remains scattered to the four winds of the place, then will we return.”
“But that will never happen! Anyone can see that this war you are waging is pointless,” Kezzek said. “In this world, does the sea or the wind or the fire or rock ever win? How will any one of you ever find victory here?”
“If it takes ten times the span we were in bondage to snuff out the other Rifts, then that will be soon enough. If we are blown back through our Rift in defeat, the knowledge that whichever remains will destroy that vortex of Cursed Ones we left in place to collect the Cursed Ones all from the four winds, then that will be enough.”
“Vortex of the Cursed Ones?” Kezzek shouted. Then it came to him. Watersprock! They left alone so that the gnomes would gather there within easy striking distance! He stared at the swirling, somehow malevolent swirling black wind that swayed before him and swore, using the rock to pull himself away until the wind had died down enough for him to stand.
“It didn't kill you, that's something at least,” Harold said. “Any luck?”
Kezzek just growled in return. “Let's get back to the ship.”
***
Suniel was just about to give up when he saw Keeper appear out of the ruins, Harold close behind.
“I see Keeper reached the ship,” Suniel said.
Harold nodded and looked over at the Stone Rift, glancing right past Earthquake Moves. “Yes, just as I reached it myself. So what's the situation here?”
“Simple. He says I either bring him more gnomes to slaughter or I don't leave.”
“Ah, that. Don't worry, I've dealt with this before,” Harold said. “Where's their leader?”
Suniel pointed at Earthquake Moves. “That.”
Harold stared at it for a minute. “What, behind the cliff? Oh. That's their leader?”
Before Suniel could answer, Harold was walking up to it.
“You there, I have a message for you,” Harold said, shouting up at the rock. “We'll bring you more gnomes, we just need to go get them. Give us some time, we'll get a bunch, bring them back.”
He stood staring up at it and Suniel half-expected Earthquake Moves to shift once and flatten him. Instead, a boom echoed out, sending Suniel and Harold staggering. Suniel motioned Harold over quickly when he caught Harold's eyes.
“What was that?” Harold said as he approached.
“He said yes,” Keeper said.
Suniel looked sharply at the construct. “You speak Ignan?”
Keeper's looked back, expressionless as ever. “No. Why?”
“Well, regardless, what did you just agree to?” Suniel said. “There's no way I'm going to do that.”
“Exactly,” Harold whispered, leaning in. “I agreed to the same thing with Greenpyre. I don't know about you, but there's no way I'm ever coming back here again. Are you?”
***
“Wait, you're saying you saw a silver turtle here?” Kezzek said.
Guntl and many of the other crew members nodded. “Yes, it went to the beach, opened its mouth, and a figure walked into the city with what looked like a crate. It didn't move an inch the whole time until a few hours later when he returned. Then it swallowed him and headed west. I could see the bubbles.”
There was a moment of silence as everyone took the information in. Finally Harold spoke.
“Our course takes us west. The journey to the Crystal Towers that is. We can keep an eye out for the turtle as we go.”
“And warn Watersprock,” Suniel added. “If what Kezzek found out was true, the little city we were helping organize is a trap.”
There was another silence. Then Keeper strode from Suniel's side towards the aft-castle, shouting at the crew as he went. “Avast! Make ready the sails. You sailors or landlubbers?
The others all glanced at Suniel who simply raised his hands and shrugged.
“Don't ask me, I just turned him on.”
Last edited:
Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 16, Part 1
Urblabetha motioned for the rest of the shoal to move up to the surface craft. She surfaced a ways away on the night waters and watched as her kind began climbing up the sides of the craft. For a while, she thought that they might make it undetected onto the deck, but then one of the land walkers called an alarm. With practiced skill, the Locath dispatched those on the deck and Urblabetha thought they might take the ship uncontested.
Then there was a roar and a member of the shoal flew arcing off the ship and into the water. Then there was a flash of flame and a half a dozen more shoalmates fell to the deck smoldering or sailed into the water trailing smoke and fire.
Urblabetha dove under the surface and swam farther away to get a better view of the ship. When she resurfaced, she saw that her shoalmates were being annihilated. A landling archer was firing rapidly, dropping one of her kind with every arrow. A figure in a brown cowl hurled magics, bringing hateful fire and tearing arcane forces to bear. A short, bearded landling used its under-developed landling flippers to crush and break. A huge landling with a metal-wrapped arm and a double-fanged blade slashed and cut. A strange metal man stood on the craft's aft-castle, hurling lightning from his eyes. In mere minutes, the fight was over and Urblabetha's shoal sank to the deeps or lay gutted on the craft.
She watched for a few minutes as the landlings moved amongst the dead ones. Then she nodded in satisfaction and dove beneath the waves.
***
“So, anyone know what these things are?”
Everyone on deck glanced around at each other, meeting only empty expressions and shrugs. Ragnen knelt next to an especially large one wearing strange metallic armor that lay face down on the deck and rolled it over.
It was fish-like, but with legs and hands that ended in flexible fins. The armor covered most of its body, including a bulbous helm. Its trident was still gripped in a hand-flipper. A strange multi-eyed skull-like shape was branded into its armor in several places.
“Don't remember it's name, but these fish-things live down in Landspear Lake. Shipping sometimes has trouble with them, but it's pretty rare,” Ragnen said. He snapped his stubby fingers. “Locath, that's what they're called.”
“Hm...” Kezzek said, tugging at a tusk before pulling out his Greywarden journal, mumbling to himself as he wrote. “Unprovoked... Locath... pirate... Landspear Lake.”
“How are they organized?” Harold said, staring out ahead of the ship.
Ragnen shrugged. “I dunno, never run into them before myself. As I said, they're mostly in the Landspear Lake and we've mostly run the Crystal Deeps.”
“And what does this symbol mean?” Suniel said, tapping on the Locath's armor.
“The ship is stopped,” Keeper said, walking up to the cluster that gathered about the body.
Suniel squinted at the symbol. “Must be some bizarre, alien hieroglyphic system if it means that. I would have thought it was a caste mark or some other organizational-”
“No, he means our ship isn't moving,” Harold said, walking quickly over to a railing and peering over.
Suniel looked up and blinked a few times as the entire crew stopped policing bodies and ran to the railing.
“Over here,” Harold said. “There's something, stuck to the side of the ship.”
They gathered around Harold and stared down at a large bulbous shape stuck to the side of the ship. “Ok, anyone know what that is?” Harold said.
There was a long mement of silence, then Kezzek sighed and said, “I'll go check.”
Suniel joined the group at the railing and watched as Kezzek cast a rope over the side and climbed down. Gingerly, the half-orc stepped on the strange pod, then shifted his weight a bit and looked around the sides of it.
“It's spongy and slimy, has some sort of vines running from it deep into the water. Looks like there's some blackish substance holding it to the side of the ship. Kinda like tar. Someone drop me a plank and I'll pry it free.”
Kezzek tied the rope about his waist as he waited, then a crew mate tossed him down a piece of lumber. After positioning it carefully between the pod and the ship, the Greywarden pulled, first gingerly, then harder, until he was straining with all his might. Finally he stopped and tried to pull the plank free, but it was stuck as well.
“Looks like some sort of natural adhesive,” Suniel mumbled. He turned to Keeper. “Go to my carriage and get the green flasks.”
As Keeper walked to where the carriage was lashed to the deck, Suniel leaned over the rail. “Kezzek, hold there, I might have something that will help.”
Keeper returned with four greenish flasks. Suniel motioned for Kormak to bring him a nearby bucket and then carefully set the flasks inside and tied a rope to the bucket handle. He lowered it carefully, wincing every time the motion of the waves knocked the bucket off the side of the ship.
Kezzek took the bucked gingerly and looked up. “What's in these?”
“Acid. Strong enough to eat through wood. You'll need to apply it very carefully where the black substance meets the wood. Try not to get any on the ship's hull itself. The concentration should be enough that the water doesn't dilute it too much before it reaches the tar.”
They watched for several tense minutes as the half-orc carefully unstoppered a flask and poured it here and there on the tar. The black tar bubbled and sizzled as the acid hit it. “Smells awful,” Kezzek said as he poured the last of the first flask. He grabbed the plank again and strained against it again, planting both feet against the side of the ship for extra leverage. There was a popping, tearing sound and the pod tore free, sending Kezzek and his plank plunging into the water.
The crew laughed as they hauled the spluttering Greywarden up the side of the ship, but it was good-natured and they patted him heartily on the back when he reached the deck.
Suniel handed the bucket rope to Keeper. “Raise these very carefully and return them to my carriage. Place them securely back where you found them. Wouldn't do at all to have these come loose in the carriage during a storm.”
Keeper took the bucket and looked Suniel in the eyes. “Verily,” he said, then turned and walked across the deck.
Suniel watched him go and wondered again whether the construct had a sense of humor hidden somewhere beneath his metal skin.
His musings were interrupted by Ragnen's approach. “We'll be at the Crystal River in two days, weather permitting.” He paused and looked at the deck. “Lost four crew to the attack.”
Suniel nodded to him and sighed. “Carry on. Finish getting these bodies overboard. We'll have a ceremony for our dead at first light.”
He watched as the crew set to work, tossing Locathi bodies back into the Deeps. Everywhere we go we bring death, he thought. Is it our curse together or mine alone, still following me after all these years?
Urblabetha motioned for the rest of the shoal to move up to the surface craft. She surfaced a ways away on the night waters and watched as her kind began climbing up the sides of the craft. For a while, she thought that they might make it undetected onto the deck, but then one of the land walkers called an alarm. With practiced skill, the Locath dispatched those on the deck and Urblabetha thought they might take the ship uncontested.
Then there was a roar and a member of the shoal flew arcing off the ship and into the water. Then there was a flash of flame and a half a dozen more shoalmates fell to the deck smoldering or sailed into the water trailing smoke and fire.
Urblabetha dove under the surface and swam farther away to get a better view of the ship. When she resurfaced, she saw that her shoalmates were being annihilated. A landling archer was firing rapidly, dropping one of her kind with every arrow. A figure in a brown cowl hurled magics, bringing hateful fire and tearing arcane forces to bear. A short, bearded landling used its under-developed landling flippers to crush and break. A huge landling with a metal-wrapped arm and a double-fanged blade slashed and cut. A strange metal man stood on the craft's aft-castle, hurling lightning from his eyes. In mere minutes, the fight was over and Urblabetha's shoal sank to the deeps or lay gutted on the craft.
She watched for a few minutes as the landlings moved amongst the dead ones. Then she nodded in satisfaction and dove beneath the waves.
***
“So, anyone know what these things are?”
Everyone on deck glanced around at each other, meeting only empty expressions and shrugs. Ragnen knelt next to an especially large one wearing strange metallic armor that lay face down on the deck and rolled it over.
It was fish-like, but with legs and hands that ended in flexible fins. The armor covered most of its body, including a bulbous helm. Its trident was still gripped in a hand-flipper. A strange multi-eyed skull-like shape was branded into its armor in several places.
“Don't remember it's name, but these fish-things live down in Landspear Lake. Shipping sometimes has trouble with them, but it's pretty rare,” Ragnen said. He snapped his stubby fingers. “Locath, that's what they're called.”
“Hm...” Kezzek said, tugging at a tusk before pulling out his Greywarden journal, mumbling to himself as he wrote. “Unprovoked... Locath... pirate... Landspear Lake.”
“How are they organized?” Harold said, staring out ahead of the ship.
Ragnen shrugged. “I dunno, never run into them before myself. As I said, they're mostly in the Landspear Lake and we've mostly run the Crystal Deeps.”
“And what does this symbol mean?” Suniel said, tapping on the Locath's armor.
“The ship is stopped,” Keeper said, walking up to the cluster that gathered about the body.
Suniel squinted at the symbol. “Must be some bizarre, alien hieroglyphic system if it means that. I would have thought it was a caste mark or some other organizational-”
“No, he means our ship isn't moving,” Harold said, walking quickly over to a railing and peering over.
Suniel looked up and blinked a few times as the entire crew stopped policing bodies and ran to the railing.
“Over here,” Harold said. “There's something, stuck to the side of the ship.”
They gathered around Harold and stared down at a large bulbous shape stuck to the side of the ship. “Ok, anyone know what that is?” Harold said.
There was a long mement of silence, then Kezzek sighed and said, “I'll go check.”
Suniel joined the group at the railing and watched as Kezzek cast a rope over the side and climbed down. Gingerly, the half-orc stepped on the strange pod, then shifted his weight a bit and looked around the sides of it.
“It's spongy and slimy, has some sort of vines running from it deep into the water. Looks like there's some blackish substance holding it to the side of the ship. Kinda like tar. Someone drop me a plank and I'll pry it free.”
Kezzek tied the rope about his waist as he waited, then a crew mate tossed him down a piece of lumber. After positioning it carefully between the pod and the ship, the Greywarden pulled, first gingerly, then harder, until he was straining with all his might. Finally he stopped and tried to pull the plank free, but it was stuck as well.
“Looks like some sort of natural adhesive,” Suniel mumbled. He turned to Keeper. “Go to my carriage and get the green flasks.”
As Keeper walked to where the carriage was lashed to the deck, Suniel leaned over the rail. “Kezzek, hold there, I might have something that will help.”
Keeper returned with four greenish flasks. Suniel motioned for Kormak to bring him a nearby bucket and then carefully set the flasks inside and tied a rope to the bucket handle. He lowered it carefully, wincing every time the motion of the waves knocked the bucket off the side of the ship.
Kezzek took the bucked gingerly and looked up. “What's in these?”
“Acid. Strong enough to eat through wood. You'll need to apply it very carefully where the black substance meets the wood. Try not to get any on the ship's hull itself. The concentration should be enough that the water doesn't dilute it too much before it reaches the tar.”
They watched for several tense minutes as the half-orc carefully unstoppered a flask and poured it here and there on the tar. The black tar bubbled and sizzled as the acid hit it. “Smells awful,” Kezzek said as he poured the last of the first flask. He grabbed the plank again and strained against it again, planting both feet against the side of the ship for extra leverage. There was a popping, tearing sound and the pod tore free, sending Kezzek and his plank plunging into the water.
The crew laughed as they hauled the spluttering Greywarden up the side of the ship, but it was good-natured and they patted him heartily on the back when he reached the deck.
Suniel handed the bucket rope to Keeper. “Raise these very carefully and return them to my carriage. Place them securely back where you found them. Wouldn't do at all to have these come loose in the carriage during a storm.”
Keeper took the bucket and looked Suniel in the eyes. “Verily,” he said, then turned and walked across the deck.
Suniel watched him go and wondered again whether the construct had a sense of humor hidden somewhere beneath his metal skin.
His musings were interrupted by Ragnen's approach. “We'll be at the Crystal River in two days, weather permitting.” He paused and looked at the deck. “Lost four crew to the attack.”
Suniel nodded to him and sighed. “Carry on. Finish getting these bodies overboard. We'll have a ceremony for our dead at first light.”
He watched as the crew set to work, tossing Locathi bodies back into the Deeps. Everywhere we go we bring death, he thought. Is it our curse together or mine alone, still following me after all these years?
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Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 16, Part 2
Harold was chatting with Ambassador Roderic when one of the sailors on early-morning watch called out.
“Stay here unless I come for you,” Harold said, grabbing his bow.
“Of course, wouldn't want me catching something horrible like a breath of fresh air,” Roderic said.
Harold ignored the comment and ran to the deck. A couple of the others were there as well, peering out at something on the waves. The figure was partially submerged so it took a moment for Harold to recognize it as one of the Locath that had attacked the ship the night before. He drew an arrow and raised his bow, but Suniel put his hand on Harold's arm.
“There's only one and it hasn't done anything hostile,” the wizard said. “Let's wait and see what it wants.”
“What it wants? They left almost two-dozen dead behind last night, what do you think it wants?”
“Call it a hunch. I think if it wanted to attack us, we'd be under attack already.”
Within a few minutes, nearly the entire crew and all the passengers were staring out at the Locath that swam along beside their ship a hundred yards out. Then a wave passed between them and the Locath and it was gone.
“See, we missed our chance. That was probably a scout,” Harold said.
“Hm. He might have a point,” Kezzek said, squinting out over the water.
It resurfaced maybe ten yards out, a second smaller Locath with it.
Hands went to weapons, but Suniel raised his hands to them. “Hold! I think they are here to talk.”
The larger Locath started making sounds that to Harold sounded like someone drowning. The smaller was still for a while, then spoke in broken Common.
“Urblabetha say that landwalkers have passed Undredakul test.”
“What's an undredakul test?” Kormak said, quirking an eyebrow.
“Why did you attack us?” Harold said. He kept an arrow in hand just in case it was a trick.
The smaller one blurbled to the other one, the one he had called Urblabetha, and they had a brief conversation in what must have been Locathi. Then the smaller one spoke again.
“Locath test landwalkers. Locath die, landwalkers live. Landwalkers pass test.”
“Hell of a test,” Kormak said with a hideous half-grin.
“Who is this Undredakul?” Suniel said. “And if we passed his test, he must want something from us.”
There was another brief consultation.
“These landwalkers are strong,” the translator said. “Urblabetha think they might be strong ally against Nakral. Will landwalkers fight the many-armed ones?”
Harold, Kezzek, and Suniel turned to each other and a moment later Kormak pushed his way into the group.
“Anyone here know who this Nakral is?” Harold said. Everyone shook their heads.
“Ok, many armed ones? And idea on that?”
“There are many creatures with many arms,” Suniel said. “Most likely they are aquatic in nature, though that still leaves many varieties of water creatures and otherworldly abominations.”
“Right, so that leaves us with a question-” Kezzek began.
“If the landwalkers fight Nakral, safe passage through Undredakul's kingdom is,” the translator called up to them.
“We don't actually have to fight this Nakral and its many-armed whatevers,” Kormak said, dropping his voice to a rough whisper. “We can just agree to it for the safe passage.”
The others exchanged questioning glances. “You know, for once the dwarf might have a good idea,” Harold said.
Kormak grinned back at Harold. He was even uglier when he grinned.
They turned back to the Locath. “We will fight this Nakral and the many-armed ones,” Harold said loudly.
The Locath translator spoke with Urblabetha briefly and they disappeared beneath the surface.
Everyone at the rail stared out at where they had been, a murmur running through the crew.
The ship lurched and everyone was sent staggering and reaching for ropes or rails.
“A pod, there, attached to the back of the ship!” Harold shouted. “It was a trick!”
Then the ship lurched again and the pod fell away, leaving tar in the same three-eyed-skull shape that they'd seen on the dead Locath.
“That's different,” Kormak said. “I guess we're on their side now.”
Harold was chatting with Ambassador Roderic when one of the sailors on early-morning watch called out.
“Stay here unless I come for you,” Harold said, grabbing his bow.
“Of course, wouldn't want me catching something horrible like a breath of fresh air,” Roderic said.
Harold ignored the comment and ran to the deck. A couple of the others were there as well, peering out at something on the waves. The figure was partially submerged so it took a moment for Harold to recognize it as one of the Locath that had attacked the ship the night before. He drew an arrow and raised his bow, but Suniel put his hand on Harold's arm.
“There's only one and it hasn't done anything hostile,” the wizard said. “Let's wait and see what it wants.”
“What it wants? They left almost two-dozen dead behind last night, what do you think it wants?”
“Call it a hunch. I think if it wanted to attack us, we'd be under attack already.”
Within a few minutes, nearly the entire crew and all the passengers were staring out at the Locath that swam along beside their ship a hundred yards out. Then a wave passed between them and the Locath and it was gone.
“See, we missed our chance. That was probably a scout,” Harold said.
“Hm. He might have a point,” Kezzek said, squinting out over the water.
It resurfaced maybe ten yards out, a second smaller Locath with it.
Hands went to weapons, but Suniel raised his hands to them. “Hold! I think they are here to talk.”
The larger Locath started making sounds that to Harold sounded like someone drowning. The smaller was still for a while, then spoke in broken Common.
“Urblabetha say that landwalkers have passed Undredakul test.”
“What's an undredakul test?” Kormak said, quirking an eyebrow.
“Why did you attack us?” Harold said. He kept an arrow in hand just in case it was a trick.
The smaller one blurbled to the other one, the one he had called Urblabetha, and they had a brief conversation in what must have been Locathi. Then the smaller one spoke again.
“Locath test landwalkers. Locath die, landwalkers live. Landwalkers pass test.”
“Hell of a test,” Kormak said with a hideous half-grin.
“Who is this Undredakul?” Suniel said. “And if we passed his test, he must want something from us.”
There was another brief consultation.
“These landwalkers are strong,” the translator said. “Urblabetha think they might be strong ally against Nakral. Will landwalkers fight the many-armed ones?”
Harold, Kezzek, and Suniel turned to each other and a moment later Kormak pushed his way into the group.
“Anyone here know who this Nakral is?” Harold said. Everyone shook their heads.
“Ok, many armed ones? And idea on that?”
“There are many creatures with many arms,” Suniel said. “Most likely they are aquatic in nature, though that still leaves many varieties of water creatures and otherworldly abominations.”
“Right, so that leaves us with a question-” Kezzek began.
“If the landwalkers fight Nakral, safe passage through Undredakul's kingdom is,” the translator called up to them.
“We don't actually have to fight this Nakral and its many-armed whatevers,” Kormak said, dropping his voice to a rough whisper. “We can just agree to it for the safe passage.”
The others exchanged questioning glances. “You know, for once the dwarf might have a good idea,” Harold said.
Kormak grinned back at Harold. He was even uglier when he grinned.
They turned back to the Locath. “We will fight this Nakral and the many-armed ones,” Harold said loudly.
The Locath translator spoke with Urblabetha briefly and they disappeared beneath the surface.
Everyone at the rail stared out at where they had been, a murmur running through the crew.
The ship lurched and everyone was sent staggering and reaching for ropes or rails.
“A pod, there, attached to the back of the ship!” Harold shouted. “It was a trick!”
Then the ship lurched again and the pod fell away, leaving tar in the same three-eyed-skull shape that they'd seen on the dead Locath.
“That's different,” Kormak said. “I guess we're on their side now.”
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Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 16, Part 3
Inkanis nodded to the hatchling and they tucked their wings, diving from the clear sky towards the wooden craft that was slowly floating down their river. The little humanoids on the deck let out a cry of fear that sent an excited tingle through Inkanis' body as she unfurled her wings and opened her mouth, engulfing a few figures on the deck with acid. She beat her wings and hurtled past, glancing back to see that the hatchling was, somewhat clumsily, following her lead, catching a lone dwarf with its much smaller gout.
They beat their wings to gain some altitude and circled around again. She nodded to the hatchling, seeing that it too was exhilarated by their kills.
As they began to dive again, she aligned herself to catch the figures coming up on deck, recognizing the weapons in their hands. She twisted and jerked to vary her path, the first few arrows narrowly missing the mark. Her maneuvers brought her out of alignment to catch the few archers, so she settled for a gnome that stood on the aft-castle, leaving little but a half-fleshed skeleton and a hole sizzling into the deck.
The tiny black behind her screeched as one of the humanoids on the deck hurled some sorts of magics into the sky. That gave her pause and she flew up far out of range, the pathetic little hatchling struggling to catch up to her.
“Go for the one that used the magics,” she snarled at the hatchling. “Take it down first, then the archers.”
She looked over at the hatchling to be sure it heard her. It looked at her dumbly and snapped at the spot on its side where the spell had seared it. She hoped that meant that it understood.
They dove again, the wind slipping around her body as the river expanded from a thin blue line to a rippling waters and the speck of the ship became a wide deck. She aligned herself with the cowled figure, gritting her teeth as it began to gesture, looking up in her direction. I can endure whatever feeble magics this wizard can throw at me. Can it endure this?
She opened her mouth, feeling the acid bubbling up to her throat. The wizards gestures became bigger until she could begin to hear little snippets of chant and could see that it was an elf.
Just as she opened her mouth fully and the wizard thrust his hand at her, she saw the Mark. She lurched to the side, her acid splattering into the sails and the wizard's magics barely missing her. She banked hard, coming about and slamming into the hatchling, sending it spiraling off into the trees just as it unleashed its acid, the black sizzling ichor burning away a railing a few feet from the wizard.
She flew away quickly, barely avoiding a small volley of arrows. She arched her neck and glanced behind her, snarling. Damn, damn! It thought, Gilderalin will tear my wings off and hurl me to the Endless Sands for this!
***
Kormak glanced up from the still-sizzling railing as the two black dragons circled far overhead.
“What was that about?” Kezzek growled, lowing his quor'rel bow.
“That was a neat trick,” Kormak said.
“The acid?” the Greywarden said, his brow furrowing as he glanced at the acid-splattered and -eaten deck.
“No, whatever you did to turn your sword-thingy into a bow.”
Kezzek glanced down at the quor'rel in his hand as if he'd forgotten it was there. With practiced motions, his hands moved on the weapon, pulling and twisting here and there. The wire of the bowstring retracted instantly with a zipping sound and with a few twists it was again the twin-bladed sword. Kormak now understood what the various strange notches and holes in the blades were for.
“Why did they stop attacking?” Harold said, joining them and raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he stared up at the still circling dragons. “The big one even attacked the small one.”
“Maybe you'll have your answer, they're coming back,” Suniel said as he and Keeper joined them. He put his hand on Harold's arm as the archer raised his bow. “Wait, they aren't diving this time and the little one is holding back. I think they wish to talk.”
“I think we should let Harold fight it,” Kormak said. The others all glanced at him, some sharply, some questioningly and he grinned back at them.
The dragon closed and beat its wings mightily, to hover before the ship for a moment. “Come to the ruins around the next bend, I will wait there,” it snarled.
It landed for a second on the front railing, then used it to launch itself off and flew off.
“It must be a trick,” Harold said, bow still in hand, eyes squinting as if he were estimating a shot as it flew away. “It knows it can't fight us openly so it will use deception.”
“I don't think so,” Suniel said. “It turned at the last second when it was about to use its breath on me. It might have killed me right then.”
“I still think we should have let Harold fight it,” Kormak muttered. As often happened, the others ignored him.
***
They walked into the ruins warily, despite Suniel's assurances. Kezzek stood up, holding a copper coin. “Gnomish, these are gnomish ruins.”
“Look at the stones, scorched and tumbled and blasted. Even this far from Steamport the elementals unleashed their wrath on the gnomes,” Suniel said, bowing his head.
The black dragon slipped out of the ruins, startling them all with its speed and stealth in spite of its size. It didn't seem as large when it was on the ground with its wings furled and Suniel guessed it was less than a century old. Maybe as little as a few decades. Icy malevolence glinted from its eyes and its black scales gleamed in the sunlight. Even from twenty feet away, he could smell the acrid stench of it, like acid eating away rotten flesh.
“What business does the Undercouncil send you on?” the black dragon said, its horned skull-like face even more hideous and terrible when it spoke.
“The Undercouncil?” Suniel said. “What is the Undercouncil?”
She stared at them, hard eyes glittering. “I would think an elf would know better than to toy with dragons,” it finally said. “Either you are mocking me or you are unwitting pawns. In either case you are fools.”
“Well, you're even uglier than I am, and that's saying a lot,” Kormak said. Suniel turned to silence him, but saw that Keeper was already moving, placing a metallic finger on the startled dwarf's lips.
“Shh,” Keeper said.
The incongruity of the construct shushing the dwarf while they talked with a black dragon in gnomish ruins made Suniel blink and shake his head.
“I do not take kindly to being called fools by little runts like you,” Harold said. “I've had enough of dragon riddles. Tell us of this Undercouncil.”
“You truly don't know...” it said. “Well, I guess that means we're both pawns of the Undercouncil then. Gilderalin usually gets what she wants.”
“Pawns? You consider yourself a pawn as well?” Kezzek said.
The black showed its teeth and flicked its tail. “I have to take care of the hatchling. Ashcandia brought it to me to take care of, under orders of Gilderalin and the Undercouncil.”
“Ashcandia the Green?” Suniel said.
“You do know something of dragons, despite your ignorance of your role in our affairs. Yes, the green. I'd rather kill the stupid little runt, but if I did they'd send Ashcandia. She'd take my horde and exile me from my territory... at best.”
“Your horde?” Harold said, one eyebrow quirking.
“Yes.” It showed its teeth in a terrible snarl. “And I must give some of it to you for killing your pawns.”
“What?” they said in unison.
“You are pawns of Gilderalin. They were pawns of yours that I killed, the ones that run your ship. How many did I kill?”
“Five,” Suniel said, anger rising up in him that the dragon would try to simply buy them off for killing five good crew members. Dwarves and gnomes that had served them loyally and well.
“Then I will give you five handfuls of gold, or five items of value from my horde,” the dragon said, through clenched teeth, body twisting as if the words physically pained it.
“Sounds fair,” Kormak said.
Suniel was about to object when the black turned, ran a few graceful steps, then dove into the ruined gnomish town's large communal well.
Suniel glared at Kormak. The dwarf looked at him blankly. “What?”
A few minutes later, the dragon returned with an ornate shield pressed to its body. It held it tucked with one arm as it walked towards them on the other three limbs. It craned its neck to look down at the shield and whatever was on it, then it shook its head and threw the shield at their feet, the golden coins heaped upon it scattering on the ground.
“There, tell Gilderalin that Ikanis paid her blood debt. I owe you nothing now. Get on your ship and get out of my sight.”
Harold and Kormak began scooping up coins while Kezzek pulled out his Greywarden journal and began scribbling. Suniel stood, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, staring at the dragon.
Then Harold turned, caught Suniel's eye, nodded back towards the ship, and began walking. Kezzek finished writing, glanced at the dragon a final time, then joined Harold.
Suniel finally relaxed his jaw and sighed. He turned and followed after Kezzek and Harold, glancing back to see Kormak give a deep flourishing bow to the dragon then jog to join them, a half-grin on the ugly dwarf's face as he met Suniel's eyes.
Inkanis nodded to the hatchling and they tucked their wings, diving from the clear sky towards the wooden craft that was slowly floating down their river. The little humanoids on the deck let out a cry of fear that sent an excited tingle through Inkanis' body as she unfurled her wings and opened her mouth, engulfing a few figures on the deck with acid. She beat her wings and hurtled past, glancing back to see that the hatchling was, somewhat clumsily, following her lead, catching a lone dwarf with its much smaller gout.
They beat their wings to gain some altitude and circled around again. She nodded to the hatchling, seeing that it too was exhilarated by their kills.
As they began to dive again, she aligned herself to catch the figures coming up on deck, recognizing the weapons in their hands. She twisted and jerked to vary her path, the first few arrows narrowly missing the mark. Her maneuvers brought her out of alignment to catch the few archers, so she settled for a gnome that stood on the aft-castle, leaving little but a half-fleshed skeleton and a hole sizzling into the deck.
The tiny black behind her screeched as one of the humanoids on the deck hurled some sorts of magics into the sky. That gave her pause and she flew up far out of range, the pathetic little hatchling struggling to catch up to her.
“Go for the one that used the magics,” she snarled at the hatchling. “Take it down first, then the archers.”
She looked over at the hatchling to be sure it heard her. It looked at her dumbly and snapped at the spot on its side where the spell had seared it. She hoped that meant that it understood.
They dove again, the wind slipping around her body as the river expanded from a thin blue line to a rippling waters and the speck of the ship became a wide deck. She aligned herself with the cowled figure, gritting her teeth as it began to gesture, looking up in her direction. I can endure whatever feeble magics this wizard can throw at me. Can it endure this?
She opened her mouth, feeling the acid bubbling up to her throat. The wizards gestures became bigger until she could begin to hear little snippets of chant and could see that it was an elf.
Just as she opened her mouth fully and the wizard thrust his hand at her, she saw the Mark. She lurched to the side, her acid splattering into the sails and the wizard's magics barely missing her. She banked hard, coming about and slamming into the hatchling, sending it spiraling off into the trees just as it unleashed its acid, the black sizzling ichor burning away a railing a few feet from the wizard.
She flew away quickly, barely avoiding a small volley of arrows. She arched her neck and glanced behind her, snarling. Damn, damn! It thought, Gilderalin will tear my wings off and hurl me to the Endless Sands for this!
***
Kormak glanced up from the still-sizzling railing as the two black dragons circled far overhead.
“What was that about?” Kezzek growled, lowing his quor'rel bow.
“That was a neat trick,” Kormak said.
“The acid?” the Greywarden said, his brow furrowing as he glanced at the acid-splattered and -eaten deck.
“No, whatever you did to turn your sword-thingy into a bow.”
Kezzek glanced down at the quor'rel in his hand as if he'd forgotten it was there. With practiced motions, his hands moved on the weapon, pulling and twisting here and there. The wire of the bowstring retracted instantly with a zipping sound and with a few twists it was again the twin-bladed sword. Kormak now understood what the various strange notches and holes in the blades were for.
“Why did they stop attacking?” Harold said, joining them and raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he stared up at the still circling dragons. “The big one even attacked the small one.”
“Maybe you'll have your answer, they're coming back,” Suniel said as he and Keeper joined them. He put his hand on Harold's arm as the archer raised his bow. “Wait, they aren't diving this time and the little one is holding back. I think they wish to talk.”
“I think we should let Harold fight it,” Kormak said. The others all glanced at him, some sharply, some questioningly and he grinned back at them.
The dragon closed and beat its wings mightily, to hover before the ship for a moment. “Come to the ruins around the next bend, I will wait there,” it snarled.
It landed for a second on the front railing, then used it to launch itself off and flew off.
“It must be a trick,” Harold said, bow still in hand, eyes squinting as if he were estimating a shot as it flew away. “It knows it can't fight us openly so it will use deception.”
“I don't think so,” Suniel said. “It turned at the last second when it was about to use its breath on me. It might have killed me right then.”
“I still think we should have let Harold fight it,” Kormak muttered. As often happened, the others ignored him.
***
They walked into the ruins warily, despite Suniel's assurances. Kezzek stood up, holding a copper coin. “Gnomish, these are gnomish ruins.”
“Look at the stones, scorched and tumbled and blasted. Even this far from Steamport the elementals unleashed their wrath on the gnomes,” Suniel said, bowing his head.
The black dragon slipped out of the ruins, startling them all with its speed and stealth in spite of its size. It didn't seem as large when it was on the ground with its wings furled and Suniel guessed it was less than a century old. Maybe as little as a few decades. Icy malevolence glinted from its eyes and its black scales gleamed in the sunlight. Even from twenty feet away, he could smell the acrid stench of it, like acid eating away rotten flesh.
“What business does the Undercouncil send you on?” the black dragon said, its horned skull-like face even more hideous and terrible when it spoke.
“The Undercouncil?” Suniel said. “What is the Undercouncil?”
She stared at them, hard eyes glittering. “I would think an elf would know better than to toy with dragons,” it finally said. “Either you are mocking me or you are unwitting pawns. In either case you are fools.”
“Well, you're even uglier than I am, and that's saying a lot,” Kormak said. Suniel turned to silence him, but saw that Keeper was already moving, placing a metallic finger on the startled dwarf's lips.
“Shh,” Keeper said.
The incongruity of the construct shushing the dwarf while they talked with a black dragon in gnomish ruins made Suniel blink and shake his head.
“I do not take kindly to being called fools by little runts like you,” Harold said. “I've had enough of dragon riddles. Tell us of this Undercouncil.”
“You truly don't know...” it said. “Well, I guess that means we're both pawns of the Undercouncil then. Gilderalin usually gets what she wants.”
“Pawns? You consider yourself a pawn as well?” Kezzek said.
The black showed its teeth and flicked its tail. “I have to take care of the hatchling. Ashcandia brought it to me to take care of, under orders of Gilderalin and the Undercouncil.”
“Ashcandia the Green?” Suniel said.
“You do know something of dragons, despite your ignorance of your role in our affairs. Yes, the green. I'd rather kill the stupid little runt, but if I did they'd send Ashcandia. She'd take my horde and exile me from my territory... at best.”
“Your horde?” Harold said, one eyebrow quirking.
“Yes.” It showed its teeth in a terrible snarl. “And I must give some of it to you for killing your pawns.”
“What?” they said in unison.
“You are pawns of Gilderalin. They were pawns of yours that I killed, the ones that run your ship. How many did I kill?”
“Five,” Suniel said, anger rising up in him that the dragon would try to simply buy them off for killing five good crew members. Dwarves and gnomes that had served them loyally and well.
“Then I will give you five handfuls of gold, or five items of value from my horde,” the dragon said, through clenched teeth, body twisting as if the words physically pained it.
“Sounds fair,” Kormak said.
Suniel was about to object when the black turned, ran a few graceful steps, then dove into the ruined gnomish town's large communal well.
Suniel glared at Kormak. The dwarf looked at him blankly. “What?”
A few minutes later, the dragon returned with an ornate shield pressed to its body. It held it tucked with one arm as it walked towards them on the other three limbs. It craned its neck to look down at the shield and whatever was on it, then it shook its head and threw the shield at their feet, the golden coins heaped upon it scattering on the ground.
“There, tell Gilderalin that Ikanis paid her blood debt. I owe you nothing now. Get on your ship and get out of my sight.”
Harold and Kormak began scooping up coins while Kezzek pulled out his Greywarden journal and began scribbling. Suniel stood, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, staring at the dragon.
Then Harold turned, caught Suniel's eye, nodded back towards the ship, and began walking. Kezzek finished writing, glanced at the dragon a final time, then joined Harold.
Suniel finally relaxed his jaw and sighed. He turned and followed after Kezzek and Harold, glancing back to see Kormak give a deep flourishing bow to the dragon then jog to join them, a half-grin on the ugly dwarf's face as he met Suniel's eyes.
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Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 16, Part 4
The town was once gnomish, though it took some of their gnome crew to point it out. The broken, rusting half-sphere of an elemental reactor was the only evidence in the otherwise blasted and flattened ruin.
“The turtle is going southeast,” Keeper said, walking up behind them as they stared over the railing at the ruins.
They turned towards him. “How do you know?” Harold said.
“Isn't it obvious?” Keeper said, returning to the aft-castle.
“I think we should land here,” Kormak said, pointing out at the ruin.
“Why?” Kezzek said. “There's nothing there.”
“And I think if I have to stand on a ship for a minute longer, I'm going to drown myself.”
“I've seen enough gnomish ruins for a while I think,” Suniel said, examining No Tongue's latest carvings. One was lizard pulling a cart while another smaller lizard rode on the cart-bench, the other a dragon wearing a strange collar and harness. When Suniel had asked why he'd made them No Tongue had just said, “Maaaster” and grinned at Suniel.
“The crew did say we need water,” Kezzek said. “If there's a city this size, there must be a well somewhere.”
“Uh... can I ask something?” Kormak said. “Why do we need water? Aren't we floating on a huge amount of it?”
“The water here is salty. No one knows exactly why that is,” Suniel said.
“How would you know that?” Harold said raising a questioning eyebrow.
“I... talked with the crew,” Suniel said, glancing quickly out at the ruins.
“Let's just get it over with,” Kezzek growled. “Should probably scout it out before we send the crew out. If these ruins are anything like the last ones, they're probably dangerous.”
***
The burrower felt movement again in the empty paths of the small-walkers. It knew others would be there soon, so it tunneled up, burrowing through dirt and rock towards the heaviest vibration.
The walkers called out in alarm as the burrower tore out of the ground, catching one of them in its jaws. It shook its prey, sending pieces of it flying in all directions.
At first, the burrower thought this walker had a metal skin, like some of the walkers the burrower had eaten, but the expected taste of running blood and the feel of tearing of flesh was absent. The burrower discarded the remains of the metal-thing in its jaws and turned just as a big two-clawed walker slammed into it.
The walker's metal claws bit into the burrower several times before it managed to get ahold of the walker and fling it away through a wall. It could feel the ground tremble as other, smaller burrowers sensed the fight and closed in to take its prey.
Then something else was biting into it and it turned, snapping its jaws at the air. Another walker was spitting sharp spines at it from atop a nearby pile of rubble, while other walkers were running towards the fray.
The burrower dove into the ground, sensing the shift and tumble of the rubble above it. When it sensed the movements of the spitter directly above it, it churned its body in the loose soil and hurtled upwards, rubble flying in all directions as it surfaced and caught the spitter's arm in its jaws. Warm blood ran into the burrower's mouth and it released its bite for a moment to get a better grip and pull the spitter under the earth.
The walker was too fast and slipped away in that split-second. The burrower leapt after it, not wanting its prey to escape, but the walker was gone, sliding down the slope and hurling more sharp spines behind it as it fled. As the burrower slid down the rocky debris, a sudden jolt of fear washing through it along with the realization that it was exposed in the open, beneath the hateful sky.
Suddenly there were walkers surrounding it, one clubbing the burrower with its limbs, another ripping at its underbelly with its sharp metal claws, the spitter still hurling its barbs, and another calling fire. Another burrower lay still and broken on the ground nearby.
The burrower twisted and thrashed, hurtling the clubber and the metal-clawed one away. It made a final lunge towards the fire-caller, half-burrowing into the ground as it closed. It leapt entirely from the ground, jaws flying wide to close on the fire-caller, but it slammed into something unseen, harder than the hardest rock, and then the walkers were on it again.
Real terror ran through it as it tried to flee, but the walkers pinned beneath the hot sun and it grew ever weaker until finally it was too weak to struggle and its essence ran back into the soil and rock.
***
“What the hells were those?” Harold said, eyes sharp as he gazed out over the ruins.
“Everyone all right?” Kezzek said, still snarling and trembling with blood-and-battle lust.
Kormak was limping slightly, blood streamed from Harold's arm and back and streamed from Suniel's brow. As the battle lust slowly faded, Kezzek could feel pains emerging all over his bruised and battered body.
He walked to the biggest creature and stared down at it.
It was almost like a snake or worm, but its skin looked like and was as hard as the rock it burrowed through. Its four jaws were strong and muscled, with blunt grinding teeth that could – and probably had – chewed through rock and metal. It had four eyes, each hard and glittering like a gem. No blood ran from its wounds, instead a thick sand-like substance spilled out.
“Suniel, are these what I think they are?” Kezzek said. When there was no reply, he looked up and saw the elf hobbling around the battlefield, collecting pieces of Keeper, a worried and almost mournful expression on Suniel's face.
“These must be elementals of some sort, maybe released when that blew,” Harold said, jerking his thumb towards the rusty crown of the broken reactor that jutted over the ruins. The archer knelt and drew a dagger, carefully placing it in the burrower's eye.
Kezzek watched impassively as Harold pried free an eye, examined it, and handed it over.
“These might fetch a decent price somewhere,” Kormak said, his ugly grin at odds with his limp. The dwarf held out his hand, revealing a small handful of the gems.
Then the ground rumbled and they all looked at each other with worried expressions.
“I don't know about anyone else, but I'm not really feeling like fighting more of these things,” Kormak said.
Harold stood up with a handful of burrower eyes and nodded. Suniel was already walking back towards the ship, grunting as he struggled with the weight of Keeper's parts.
Kezzek glanced at the now-eyeless corpse of the burrowing thing one last time and jogged over to help Suniel with his burden, wincing with each step.
***
“I guess I'm heading out then,” Kormak said, slinging waterskins over his shoulders and loading two up on Dog.
“If you're sure,” Kezzek said. “I'm still hurt too badly to go with you - I think something might be broken - and I don't think Suniel is coming out of his carriage until he can figure out how to put Keeper back together again. And Harold's in cooped up with the Diplomat again.”
“I'll be fine,” Kormak said. “Don't worry about me.”
“Famous last words,” Kezzek said.
Kormak grinned and headed out across the gang plank with Dog in tow.
They hadn't gone more than a hundred feet into the ruins when the ground suddenly exploded out from underneath him. He landed hard and rolled to his feet while Dog landed heavily with a yelp. The rock worm was one of the little ones, but still far bigger than Kormak. The thing turned towards where Dog had landed.
With a shout, Kormak threw himself into the air and slammed both feet into the thing with a rewarding crack, but it caught his leg before he hit the ground, twisting him and slamming him through a crumbling brick wall without releasing its iron-hard bite. Kormak slammed his bony fists into its jaws, sending jagged bits of rock-skin flying until it finally released his leg, sending him sprawling down a pile of debris.
The burrower loomed over him, jaws widening for a final pounce. Kormak tried to stand and felt his injured leg give out underneath him. He rolled over and propped himself up against a large rock, ready to die fighting.
The creature came apart in a spray of viscous sand, the two halves of it flying apart like a titan had tugged on either end.
Kezzek stood where it had been a second before, quor'rel split into two blade, his eyes flaring with bloodlust and his lips pulled back in a feral snarl as the creature's sandy insides rained down around them.
“Told you it wasn't a good idea,” Kezzek said, clicking the quor'rel blades back together and extending a hand to help Kormak up.
“Is Dog all right?” Kormak said, nearly collapsing as he put weight on his leg.
“Let's get you back to the ship first, then I'll get Dog.”
Kormak grumbled and scanned the ruins as Kezzek half-carried him back. Dog was no where to be seen.
After being deposited on the ship, he watched Kezzek every step of the Greywarden's return to the ruin, ignoring his own injuries. After several agonizing minutes, the half-orc finally stooped to pick something up and began carrying it back.
Kormak pushed Shruka away as she came to tend to his wounds and dragged himself over to the gangplank as Kezzek returned.
“He's alive,” Kezzek grunted, gently setting Dog down on the deck.
“It's a she,” Kormak said, breathing a deep sigh of relief as he gently ran his hands through Dog's bloody fur.
“Let me see to that leg,” the hideous orc woman said.
He shoved her away again. “Treat the dog first.”
She stared at him in disbelief, glancing pointedly at his bleeding and probably broken leg, but he crossed his arms and stared Shruka down until she complied.
He knelt and petted Dog, murmuring to her as the orc woman checked the mutt's wounds.
“It's all right girl, it's all right...”
***
“I'm going out,” Harold said, adjusting his horse's stirrups.
Kezzek winced as his snort of derision shot pain through his broken ribs. “After seeing what's out there, what almost killed Kormak when he went out?”
“We need water, and I can hunt,” the archer said, moving to the other side of his stallion to check the other stirrup.
“We don't need it that bad. I say we just move on down the coast and find some place less dangerous,” Kezzek said.
Harold shook his head and mounted. “No, we'll get it here.”
Before Kezzek could say another word of disagreement, Harold clattered down the gangplank and out into the blackened and crumbling town.
***
Harold returned late at night, two days later, on foot and limping.
“Looks like that went well,” Kormak said, shifting his propped up foot so he could get a better view. “Where's your horse?”
The human didn't reply, instead throwing down a couple laden waterskins and what looked like a carpet. The few crew that were still awake, drawn by the commotion, approached, bearing lamps.
“Give me one of those,” Harold said, unrolling what turned out to be a tapestry.
As Kezzek approached, he took a lamp from one of the dwarven crew and shined it down.
The tapestry was tattered, dusty, and torn, but part of it at least was clear.
On it, fish people that had to be Locathi rose out of the surface of stormy waters, hurling tridents at a hundred tentacles that thrashed in the frothing seas about them. Figures aboard gnomish Ironships stabbed into the water with long spears or fired indiscriminately about them with arrows, striking Locathi and tentacle alike. Kormak found the huge tentacles wrapped about and pulling an Ironship under especially ominous.
“Where'd you find that?” Kezzek said.
“Not far from where my horse died.” Harold said. “I'm heading below to rest.”
He pushed through the crew and a moment later disappeared into the hold, leaving Kezzek, Kormak, and a few curious crew staring uneasily at the tapestry.
The town was once gnomish, though it took some of their gnome crew to point it out. The broken, rusting half-sphere of an elemental reactor was the only evidence in the otherwise blasted and flattened ruin.
“The turtle is going southeast,” Keeper said, walking up behind them as they stared over the railing at the ruins.
They turned towards him. “How do you know?” Harold said.
“Isn't it obvious?” Keeper said, returning to the aft-castle.
“I think we should land here,” Kormak said, pointing out at the ruin.
“Why?” Kezzek said. “There's nothing there.”
“And I think if I have to stand on a ship for a minute longer, I'm going to drown myself.”
“I've seen enough gnomish ruins for a while I think,” Suniel said, examining No Tongue's latest carvings. One was lizard pulling a cart while another smaller lizard rode on the cart-bench, the other a dragon wearing a strange collar and harness. When Suniel had asked why he'd made them No Tongue had just said, “Maaaster” and grinned at Suniel.
“The crew did say we need water,” Kezzek said. “If there's a city this size, there must be a well somewhere.”
“Uh... can I ask something?” Kormak said. “Why do we need water? Aren't we floating on a huge amount of it?”
“The water here is salty. No one knows exactly why that is,” Suniel said.
“How would you know that?” Harold said raising a questioning eyebrow.
“I... talked with the crew,” Suniel said, glancing quickly out at the ruins.
“Let's just get it over with,” Kezzek growled. “Should probably scout it out before we send the crew out. If these ruins are anything like the last ones, they're probably dangerous.”
***
The burrower felt movement again in the empty paths of the small-walkers. It knew others would be there soon, so it tunneled up, burrowing through dirt and rock towards the heaviest vibration.
The walkers called out in alarm as the burrower tore out of the ground, catching one of them in its jaws. It shook its prey, sending pieces of it flying in all directions.
At first, the burrower thought this walker had a metal skin, like some of the walkers the burrower had eaten, but the expected taste of running blood and the feel of tearing of flesh was absent. The burrower discarded the remains of the metal-thing in its jaws and turned just as a big two-clawed walker slammed into it.
The walker's metal claws bit into the burrower several times before it managed to get ahold of the walker and fling it away through a wall. It could feel the ground tremble as other, smaller burrowers sensed the fight and closed in to take its prey.
Then something else was biting into it and it turned, snapping its jaws at the air. Another walker was spitting sharp spines at it from atop a nearby pile of rubble, while other walkers were running towards the fray.
The burrower dove into the ground, sensing the shift and tumble of the rubble above it. When it sensed the movements of the spitter directly above it, it churned its body in the loose soil and hurtled upwards, rubble flying in all directions as it surfaced and caught the spitter's arm in its jaws. Warm blood ran into the burrower's mouth and it released its bite for a moment to get a better grip and pull the spitter under the earth.
The walker was too fast and slipped away in that split-second. The burrower leapt after it, not wanting its prey to escape, but the walker was gone, sliding down the slope and hurling more sharp spines behind it as it fled. As the burrower slid down the rocky debris, a sudden jolt of fear washing through it along with the realization that it was exposed in the open, beneath the hateful sky.
Suddenly there were walkers surrounding it, one clubbing the burrower with its limbs, another ripping at its underbelly with its sharp metal claws, the spitter still hurling its barbs, and another calling fire. Another burrower lay still and broken on the ground nearby.
The burrower twisted and thrashed, hurtling the clubber and the metal-clawed one away. It made a final lunge towards the fire-caller, half-burrowing into the ground as it closed. It leapt entirely from the ground, jaws flying wide to close on the fire-caller, but it slammed into something unseen, harder than the hardest rock, and then the walkers were on it again.
Real terror ran through it as it tried to flee, but the walkers pinned beneath the hot sun and it grew ever weaker until finally it was too weak to struggle and its essence ran back into the soil and rock.
***
“What the hells were those?” Harold said, eyes sharp as he gazed out over the ruins.
“Everyone all right?” Kezzek said, still snarling and trembling with blood-and-battle lust.
Kormak was limping slightly, blood streamed from Harold's arm and back and streamed from Suniel's brow. As the battle lust slowly faded, Kezzek could feel pains emerging all over his bruised and battered body.
He walked to the biggest creature and stared down at it.
It was almost like a snake or worm, but its skin looked like and was as hard as the rock it burrowed through. Its four jaws were strong and muscled, with blunt grinding teeth that could – and probably had – chewed through rock and metal. It had four eyes, each hard and glittering like a gem. No blood ran from its wounds, instead a thick sand-like substance spilled out.
“Suniel, are these what I think they are?” Kezzek said. When there was no reply, he looked up and saw the elf hobbling around the battlefield, collecting pieces of Keeper, a worried and almost mournful expression on Suniel's face.
“These must be elementals of some sort, maybe released when that blew,” Harold said, jerking his thumb towards the rusty crown of the broken reactor that jutted over the ruins. The archer knelt and drew a dagger, carefully placing it in the burrower's eye.
Kezzek watched impassively as Harold pried free an eye, examined it, and handed it over.
“These might fetch a decent price somewhere,” Kormak said, his ugly grin at odds with his limp. The dwarf held out his hand, revealing a small handful of the gems.
Then the ground rumbled and they all looked at each other with worried expressions.
“I don't know about anyone else, but I'm not really feeling like fighting more of these things,” Kormak said.
Harold stood up with a handful of burrower eyes and nodded. Suniel was already walking back towards the ship, grunting as he struggled with the weight of Keeper's parts.
Kezzek glanced at the now-eyeless corpse of the burrowing thing one last time and jogged over to help Suniel with his burden, wincing with each step.
***
“I guess I'm heading out then,” Kormak said, slinging waterskins over his shoulders and loading two up on Dog.
“If you're sure,” Kezzek said. “I'm still hurt too badly to go with you - I think something might be broken - and I don't think Suniel is coming out of his carriage until he can figure out how to put Keeper back together again. And Harold's in cooped up with the Diplomat again.”
“I'll be fine,” Kormak said. “Don't worry about me.”
“Famous last words,” Kezzek said.
Kormak grinned and headed out across the gang plank with Dog in tow.
They hadn't gone more than a hundred feet into the ruins when the ground suddenly exploded out from underneath him. He landed hard and rolled to his feet while Dog landed heavily with a yelp. The rock worm was one of the little ones, but still far bigger than Kormak. The thing turned towards where Dog had landed.
With a shout, Kormak threw himself into the air and slammed both feet into the thing with a rewarding crack, but it caught his leg before he hit the ground, twisting him and slamming him through a crumbling brick wall without releasing its iron-hard bite. Kormak slammed his bony fists into its jaws, sending jagged bits of rock-skin flying until it finally released his leg, sending him sprawling down a pile of debris.
The burrower loomed over him, jaws widening for a final pounce. Kormak tried to stand and felt his injured leg give out underneath him. He rolled over and propped himself up against a large rock, ready to die fighting.
The creature came apart in a spray of viscous sand, the two halves of it flying apart like a titan had tugged on either end.
Kezzek stood where it had been a second before, quor'rel split into two blade, his eyes flaring with bloodlust and his lips pulled back in a feral snarl as the creature's sandy insides rained down around them.
“Told you it wasn't a good idea,” Kezzek said, clicking the quor'rel blades back together and extending a hand to help Kormak up.
“Is Dog all right?” Kormak said, nearly collapsing as he put weight on his leg.
“Let's get you back to the ship first, then I'll get Dog.”
Kormak grumbled and scanned the ruins as Kezzek half-carried him back. Dog was no where to be seen.
After being deposited on the ship, he watched Kezzek every step of the Greywarden's return to the ruin, ignoring his own injuries. After several agonizing minutes, the half-orc finally stooped to pick something up and began carrying it back.
Kormak pushed Shruka away as she came to tend to his wounds and dragged himself over to the gangplank as Kezzek returned.
“He's alive,” Kezzek grunted, gently setting Dog down on the deck.
“It's a she,” Kormak said, breathing a deep sigh of relief as he gently ran his hands through Dog's bloody fur.
“Let me see to that leg,” the hideous orc woman said.
He shoved her away again. “Treat the dog first.”
She stared at him in disbelief, glancing pointedly at his bleeding and probably broken leg, but he crossed his arms and stared Shruka down until she complied.
He knelt and petted Dog, murmuring to her as the orc woman checked the mutt's wounds.
“It's all right girl, it's all right...”
***
“I'm going out,” Harold said, adjusting his horse's stirrups.
Kezzek winced as his snort of derision shot pain through his broken ribs. “After seeing what's out there, what almost killed Kormak when he went out?”
“We need water, and I can hunt,” the archer said, moving to the other side of his stallion to check the other stirrup.
“We don't need it that bad. I say we just move on down the coast and find some place less dangerous,” Kezzek said.
Harold shook his head and mounted. “No, we'll get it here.”
Before Kezzek could say another word of disagreement, Harold clattered down the gangplank and out into the blackened and crumbling town.
***
Harold returned late at night, two days later, on foot and limping.
“Looks like that went well,” Kormak said, shifting his propped up foot so he could get a better view. “Where's your horse?”
The human didn't reply, instead throwing down a couple laden waterskins and what looked like a carpet. The few crew that were still awake, drawn by the commotion, approached, bearing lamps.
“Give me one of those,” Harold said, unrolling what turned out to be a tapestry.
As Kezzek approached, he took a lamp from one of the dwarven crew and shined it down.
The tapestry was tattered, dusty, and torn, but part of it at least was clear.
On it, fish people that had to be Locathi rose out of the surface of stormy waters, hurling tridents at a hundred tentacles that thrashed in the frothing seas about them. Figures aboard gnomish Ironships stabbed into the water with long spears or fired indiscriminately about them with arrows, striking Locathi and tentacle alike. Kormak found the huge tentacles wrapped about and pulling an Ironship under especially ominous.
“Where'd you find that?” Kezzek said.
“Not far from where my horse died.” Harold said. “I'm heading below to rest.”
He pushed through the crew and a moment later disappeared into the hold, leaving Kezzek, Kormak, and a few curious crew staring uneasily at the tapestry.
Last edited:
Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 17, Part 1
<Note: Since I can't ever seem to get the post up on Wednesday anyway, I'm changing the posting schedule to approximately Wednesday. So, some time before the weekend. Mostly. Probably.>
Kormak stayed quiet when the group decided to put planks over the Locath markings on the side of their ship, slipping off to the side, pulling out a sheet of parchment and tapping the quill tattoo on his arm.
“We don't want to get caught up in some war of theirs,” Harold said.
Heading to Landspear Lake, pursuing Silver Turtle, Kormak wrote. He glanced up as the others continued their discussion.
“Hm, I guess I agree,” Kezzek said. “Perhaps if we remain neutral, we can avoid getting caught in the fighting.”
Kormak heard a faint scribbling sound and glanced down at the parchment.
His eyes widened as he read the new orders that had written themselves there. Quickly he put the parchment away and rejoined the group, squinting at Suniel and wondering if his orders meant what he thought they meant. What other secrets does the wizard have that he's not telling us?
***
Suniel threw up again over the rail, even as he clung to it for dear life. He was just glad he'd gotten Keeper rebuilt before the storm hit: the construct held the wheel even as the most experienced crew members were tossed about the deck by the storm.
Kormak slammed into Suniel and almost knocked him over the side, leaving him dangling precariously on the railing as giant waves crashed into the side of ship. Kormak grabbed his hands and pulled him onto the deck.
The dwarf grinned down at him as he lay gasping on the deck, just before a tentacle reached up over the railing and yanking the dwarf into the water.
***
“Behind you!” Harold shouted, pinning a tentacle to the mast just before it grabbed the Greywarden. The half-orc spun and cleaved through the tentacle with his quor'rel and then pinned another to the deck.
Harold ran to the railing and fired at the thrashing mass of tentacles that convulsed around the vanished dwarf and elf. A huge squid launched out of the water at him, tentacles flailing towards Harold, only to fall back into the water with an arrow through a bulbous eye.
“Cover me!” Kezzek shouted as he threw down his quor'rel and hauled on the rope the wizard had lashed about his waist before diving in after Kormak. A couple crew members dropped their hatchets, belaying pins, and cutlasses to join him while Harold fired arrow after arrow at the dozens of tentacles that lashed out at them.
Finally, with huge effort and almost another full quiver of Harold's arrows, they got the half-drowned dwarf and elf back onto the ship and within a few minutes had beaten back the squid attack. They weren't in the clear yet however, since the storm was still raging.
After maybe another hour of the harrowing storm, suddenly the main mast was struck by lightning. Harold might have put it off to chance, but then another bolt struck, blasting a crew-gnome apart as he scurried up the rigging and a third bolt hit the deck not a foot from Harold, sending the archer flying making all the hair on his body stand on end.
“In the water, it's a Locath,” Guntl shouted. Harold could barely hear him over the storm. “Out there, to port!”
“What? But we're on their side!” Harold shouted back.
“No we're not!” Kormak shouted from where he clung to the railing. “You put boards over the mark they made, remember?”
With a wordless roar, Kezzek ran to the rail, lashing a rope about his waist as he went. “Hold this!” he shouted, looping the rope around the railing once and then tossing the other end to Kormak and Harold.
“What are you doing?” Harold shouted, staggering as another wave rocked the ship.
“Pulling those planks off before that Locath blows the ship apart! You, lash a rope about your waist and help me,” Kezzek shouted, pointing to another crew member. The dwarf replied, complying and joining Kezzek at the rail.
“Hold tight!” Kezzek shouted.
Harold and Kormak scrambled for some sort of sturdy footing as the half-orc dove over the side and another lightning bolt struck the ship.
***
Kezzek tried to brace his feet against the wet hull, but a wave slammed him into the side of the ship and tangled him in the rope. He shook the water from his eyes and saw the dwarven sailor was making better progress, having already pulled on plank free and struggling with another.
As Kezzek untangled the rope and positioned himself again, something huge and white hurled up from the water, swallowing the dwarven sailor whole and rising several feet out of the water before crashing back into the waves.
He vaguely heard someone on the deck, maybe Guntl, shouting “shark!” He tried to ignore it as he drew his quor'rel and used it to pull another plank free. He winced as another flash of lightning lit the sea and glanced down in time to see a huge white shape hurtling up out of the depths towards him.
As the massive white shark broke the surface of the water, he pushed hard against the side of the ship and launched himself away from it. The shark tried to turn in the air, hideous jaws wide, but its momentum carried it past him and its jaws closed inches from the rope that kept Kezzek out of the waters.
He hit the hull hard and shook his head, quickly repositioning himself. Another plank flew free as he cast a quick glance at the water. He growled as he struggled with the final plank, pulling with all his might, afraid that he might break one of his blades. Finally the board came free, the quor'rel almost flying from his wet grip as he gave the final jerk.
“Pull me up!” he shouted, glancing down in the illumination of another lightning bolt to see the great white shape beneath the waters, againt accelerating up towards him.
Many hands reached up to pull him over the rail and back onto the ship, the shark's jaws snapping in the air, its huge bulk propelled almost higher than the railing before it crashed back down into the waves.
Kezzek coughed up water and struggled to his feet, waiting for the next lightning bolt to strike. After several minutes, it was clear the attack was over.
***
Suniel leaned on the prow rail, watching the massive shark churning in the water as it helped tow their ship through the last of the storm. The Locath waved up to him and pointed at the Landspear, the massive mountain seeming to pierce the sky as it rose from the small crust of broken hills at its base.
"Mountain of the Sky,” the Locath said. “That where shining shell-thing go.”
Guntl stood next to him, squinting. “Look at that, there's some sort of silver line that seems to run up the side of the mountain. What do you think that is?”
It took Suniel a minute to see what the orc was looking at. “Your eyes are sharp indeed Guntl Keen-eye, I only see it now that you mention it. Maybe it has something to do with that glint of silver there amidst the broken rocks. Do you see, where the water meets the broken hills? Keeper, aim for that rocky inlet there, I think that's where our turtle has gone!”
As the ship turned slowly towards the gradually emerging silver ruins, they stared up at the mountain that rose miles above them until its upper reaches vanished into the clouds.
<Note: Since I can't ever seem to get the post up on Wednesday anyway, I'm changing the posting schedule to approximately Wednesday. So, some time before the weekend. Mostly. Probably.>
Kormak stayed quiet when the group decided to put planks over the Locath markings on the side of their ship, slipping off to the side, pulling out a sheet of parchment and tapping the quill tattoo on his arm.
“We don't want to get caught up in some war of theirs,” Harold said.
Heading to Landspear Lake, pursuing Silver Turtle, Kormak wrote. He glanced up as the others continued their discussion.
“Hm, I guess I agree,” Kezzek said. “Perhaps if we remain neutral, we can avoid getting caught in the fighting.”
Kormak heard a faint scribbling sound and glanced down at the parchment.
His eyes widened as he read the new orders that had written themselves there. Quickly he put the parchment away and rejoined the group, squinting at Suniel and wondering if his orders meant what he thought they meant. What other secrets does the wizard have that he's not telling us?
***
Suniel threw up again over the rail, even as he clung to it for dear life. He was just glad he'd gotten Keeper rebuilt before the storm hit: the construct held the wheel even as the most experienced crew members were tossed about the deck by the storm.
Kormak slammed into Suniel and almost knocked him over the side, leaving him dangling precariously on the railing as giant waves crashed into the side of ship. Kormak grabbed his hands and pulled him onto the deck.
The dwarf grinned down at him as he lay gasping on the deck, just before a tentacle reached up over the railing and yanking the dwarf into the water.
***
“Behind you!” Harold shouted, pinning a tentacle to the mast just before it grabbed the Greywarden. The half-orc spun and cleaved through the tentacle with his quor'rel and then pinned another to the deck.
Harold ran to the railing and fired at the thrashing mass of tentacles that convulsed around the vanished dwarf and elf. A huge squid launched out of the water at him, tentacles flailing towards Harold, only to fall back into the water with an arrow through a bulbous eye.
“Cover me!” Kezzek shouted as he threw down his quor'rel and hauled on the rope the wizard had lashed about his waist before diving in after Kormak. A couple crew members dropped their hatchets, belaying pins, and cutlasses to join him while Harold fired arrow after arrow at the dozens of tentacles that lashed out at them.
Finally, with huge effort and almost another full quiver of Harold's arrows, they got the half-drowned dwarf and elf back onto the ship and within a few minutes had beaten back the squid attack. They weren't in the clear yet however, since the storm was still raging.
After maybe another hour of the harrowing storm, suddenly the main mast was struck by lightning. Harold might have put it off to chance, but then another bolt struck, blasting a crew-gnome apart as he scurried up the rigging and a third bolt hit the deck not a foot from Harold, sending the archer flying making all the hair on his body stand on end.
“In the water, it's a Locath,” Guntl shouted. Harold could barely hear him over the storm. “Out there, to port!”
“What? But we're on their side!” Harold shouted back.
“No we're not!” Kormak shouted from where he clung to the railing. “You put boards over the mark they made, remember?”
With a wordless roar, Kezzek ran to the rail, lashing a rope about his waist as he went. “Hold this!” he shouted, looping the rope around the railing once and then tossing the other end to Kormak and Harold.
“What are you doing?” Harold shouted, staggering as another wave rocked the ship.
“Pulling those planks off before that Locath blows the ship apart! You, lash a rope about your waist and help me,” Kezzek shouted, pointing to another crew member. The dwarf replied, complying and joining Kezzek at the rail.
“Hold tight!” Kezzek shouted.
Harold and Kormak scrambled for some sort of sturdy footing as the half-orc dove over the side and another lightning bolt struck the ship.
***
Kezzek tried to brace his feet against the wet hull, but a wave slammed him into the side of the ship and tangled him in the rope. He shook the water from his eyes and saw the dwarven sailor was making better progress, having already pulled on plank free and struggling with another.
As Kezzek untangled the rope and positioned himself again, something huge and white hurled up from the water, swallowing the dwarven sailor whole and rising several feet out of the water before crashing back into the waves.
He vaguely heard someone on the deck, maybe Guntl, shouting “shark!” He tried to ignore it as he drew his quor'rel and used it to pull another plank free. He winced as another flash of lightning lit the sea and glanced down in time to see a huge white shape hurtling up out of the depths towards him.
As the massive white shark broke the surface of the water, he pushed hard against the side of the ship and launched himself away from it. The shark tried to turn in the air, hideous jaws wide, but its momentum carried it past him and its jaws closed inches from the rope that kept Kezzek out of the waters.
He hit the hull hard and shook his head, quickly repositioning himself. Another plank flew free as he cast a quick glance at the water. He growled as he struggled with the final plank, pulling with all his might, afraid that he might break one of his blades. Finally the board came free, the quor'rel almost flying from his wet grip as he gave the final jerk.
“Pull me up!” he shouted, glancing down in the illumination of another lightning bolt to see the great white shape beneath the waters, againt accelerating up towards him.
Many hands reached up to pull him over the rail and back onto the ship, the shark's jaws snapping in the air, its huge bulk propelled almost higher than the railing before it crashed back down into the waves.
Kezzek coughed up water and struggled to his feet, waiting for the next lightning bolt to strike. After several minutes, it was clear the attack was over.
***
Suniel leaned on the prow rail, watching the massive shark churning in the water as it helped tow their ship through the last of the storm. The Locath waved up to him and pointed at the Landspear, the massive mountain seeming to pierce the sky as it rose from the small crust of broken hills at its base.
"Mountain of the Sky,” the Locath said. “That where shining shell-thing go.”
Guntl stood next to him, squinting. “Look at that, there's some sort of silver line that seems to run up the side of the mountain. What do you think that is?”
It took Suniel a minute to see what the orc was looking at. “Your eyes are sharp indeed Guntl Keen-eye, I only see it now that you mention it. Maybe it has something to do with that glint of silver there amidst the broken rocks. Do you see, where the water meets the broken hills? Keeper, aim for that rocky inlet there, I think that's where our turtle has gone!”
As the ship turned slowly towards the gradually emerging silver ruins, they stared up at the mountain that rose miles above them until its upper reaches vanished into the clouds.
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Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 17, Part 2
Suniel tapped lightly on the silvery metal of one of the buildings in wonder. The metal was tarnished and the buildings leaning and utterly empty, but they were intact, without as much as a dent or scratch in them.
“You know anything about these Keeper?” he said.
“They are old. Older than even the rock that lies broken around them,” Keeper said, staring up at them.
“I see the turtle!” Kormak shouted, climbing across the jagged boulders that jutted up out of the water. They all scrambled across the rocks until they saw it.
It was a mostly smooth patterned metal shell, the metal silvery like the ruins about them, but shiny and clean without the heavy tarnish of the ruins. It had no head or legs or tail, instead smooth, blank surfaces where they might be. In all other ways, it looked identical to the shell of a turtle - just the size of large inn.
They wandered around it, touching it in wonder and curiosity. “Any idea how to make it work?” Kormak said.
“What do you mean?” Kezzek rumbled.
“Well, it got here some how and I don't think it's alive. There must be some way to use it.”
“Up there, look,” Harold said, pointing towards the Landspear that towered over them like an impossibly tall sheer wall that stretched away to either horizon and up to the clouds. “It looks like that silver line is a metal rail of some sort. It looks like the base reaches the rocky hills over there.”
The others began following the archer across the rough tumble of broken rock towards the rail. Suniel touched the turtle shell a final time, sighed, and followed after.
***
The Landspear was so immense, it made the distance to the rail seem small, but they had to climb over several miles of jutting boulders and broken hills to reach its base. They stumbled out from between two massive boulders and found the base of the rail. It was encased in a giant shimmering bubble that seemed to be made of liquid meta over two hundred feet across that intersected with the metal rail that ran up the side of the mountain, hiding whatever was at the rail's base.
They approached and stood a few feet from the bubble, watching their reflections run and ripple in the wavering metallic... substance. Harold immediately moved off into the boulders, skirting the edge of the bubble. The others just stared at it in wonder until he returned some time later.
“No way around it. It seems to meld perfectly with the rocks that it encounters and touches the Landspear on either side,” Harold said.
“You know anything about this, Keeper?” Kezzek said.
The construct stared at it for a moment then slowly shook his head. “The Nexus is... distant.”
Suniel wondered for a moment what exactly that meant then shrugged and took a step towards the bubble, slowly lifting his hand towards it.
“I don't know if I'd-” Kezzek began, stepping forward to stop Suniel from touching it.
It like cool, wet metal, but flowed beneath his hand. He pressed lightly on it and it resisted for a second and then his hand pressed through it. Someone behind him gasped and he quickly pulled his hand out. He was unscathed.
“I think it's safe,” he said, stepping forward.
It felt like cool metal pressed against all of his skin, molding against him as he stepped into it, then it released him and he was through. A faint metallic taste filled his mouth and the air inside had a faintly metallic smell to it, but the air was clean and fresh too in a way, almost like the clean smell of a waterfall. The others stepped through around him as he looked about.
Inside was a two-level metal platform of the silvery metal. The upper platform connected to the rail and could only be reached by a long narrow ramp that ran along the cliff-face of the Landspear. The lower platform was much larger and nestled into a base of more of the silvery metal, though the base was surrounded by rocky debris and partially obscured.
Three canvas-covered boxy shapes sat on the lower platform and a cloaked figure with a giant shining silver statue stood upon the upper platform, turning and limping towards the edge of the upper platform as they stood there.
“You followed me I see,” the figure said. His voice was vaguely familiar and Suniel frowned as he tried to place it.
Kezzek stepped forward. “Captain Witherleg, I presume?”
The cloaked figure laughed, a hard, bitter laugh. “I go by that name when it suits me.”
“You have another name?” Harold said, his voice hard, drawing his bow from his quiver and taking a step forward.
“Of course.” His cowl moved as if he were looking at Suniel. He reached up slowly for his cowl.
Suddenly, Suniel placed the voice - a voice from long ago, from a time he'd tried to leave behind and had spend decades trying to forget. The cowl dropped and a wordless groan escaped from Suniel's lips. Kezzek glanced at him with concern and Kormak with curiosity.
Witherleg had clear half-elven heritage; high, elegant cheekbones, slightly pointed ears, and a thin beard. He sneered down at the group. “My other name is Danovin Au.”
He turned and stared down at Suniel. “Did you miss me father?”
Suniel tapped lightly on the silvery metal of one of the buildings in wonder. The metal was tarnished and the buildings leaning and utterly empty, but they were intact, without as much as a dent or scratch in them.
“You know anything about these Keeper?” he said.
“They are old. Older than even the rock that lies broken around them,” Keeper said, staring up at them.
“I see the turtle!” Kormak shouted, climbing across the jagged boulders that jutted up out of the water. They all scrambled across the rocks until they saw it.
It was a mostly smooth patterned metal shell, the metal silvery like the ruins about them, but shiny and clean without the heavy tarnish of the ruins. It had no head or legs or tail, instead smooth, blank surfaces where they might be. In all other ways, it looked identical to the shell of a turtle - just the size of large inn.
They wandered around it, touching it in wonder and curiosity. “Any idea how to make it work?” Kormak said.
“What do you mean?” Kezzek rumbled.
“Well, it got here some how and I don't think it's alive. There must be some way to use it.”
“Up there, look,” Harold said, pointing towards the Landspear that towered over them like an impossibly tall sheer wall that stretched away to either horizon and up to the clouds. “It looks like that silver line is a metal rail of some sort. It looks like the base reaches the rocky hills over there.”
The others began following the archer across the rough tumble of broken rock towards the rail. Suniel touched the turtle shell a final time, sighed, and followed after.
***
The Landspear was so immense, it made the distance to the rail seem small, but they had to climb over several miles of jutting boulders and broken hills to reach its base. They stumbled out from between two massive boulders and found the base of the rail. It was encased in a giant shimmering bubble that seemed to be made of liquid meta over two hundred feet across that intersected with the metal rail that ran up the side of the mountain, hiding whatever was at the rail's base.
They approached and stood a few feet from the bubble, watching their reflections run and ripple in the wavering metallic... substance. Harold immediately moved off into the boulders, skirting the edge of the bubble. The others just stared at it in wonder until he returned some time later.
“No way around it. It seems to meld perfectly with the rocks that it encounters and touches the Landspear on either side,” Harold said.
“You know anything about this, Keeper?” Kezzek said.
The construct stared at it for a moment then slowly shook his head. “The Nexus is... distant.”
Suniel wondered for a moment what exactly that meant then shrugged and took a step towards the bubble, slowly lifting his hand towards it.
“I don't know if I'd-” Kezzek began, stepping forward to stop Suniel from touching it.
It like cool, wet metal, but flowed beneath his hand. He pressed lightly on it and it resisted for a second and then his hand pressed through it. Someone behind him gasped and he quickly pulled his hand out. He was unscathed.
“I think it's safe,” he said, stepping forward.
It felt like cool metal pressed against all of his skin, molding against him as he stepped into it, then it released him and he was through. A faint metallic taste filled his mouth and the air inside had a faintly metallic smell to it, but the air was clean and fresh too in a way, almost like the clean smell of a waterfall. The others stepped through around him as he looked about.
Inside was a two-level metal platform of the silvery metal. The upper platform connected to the rail and could only be reached by a long narrow ramp that ran along the cliff-face of the Landspear. The lower platform was much larger and nestled into a base of more of the silvery metal, though the base was surrounded by rocky debris and partially obscured.
Three canvas-covered boxy shapes sat on the lower platform and a cloaked figure with a giant shining silver statue stood upon the upper platform, turning and limping towards the edge of the upper platform as they stood there.
“You followed me I see,” the figure said. His voice was vaguely familiar and Suniel frowned as he tried to place it.
Kezzek stepped forward. “Captain Witherleg, I presume?”
The cloaked figure laughed, a hard, bitter laugh. “I go by that name when it suits me.”
“You have another name?” Harold said, his voice hard, drawing his bow from his quiver and taking a step forward.
“Of course.” His cowl moved as if he were looking at Suniel. He reached up slowly for his cowl.
Suddenly, Suniel placed the voice - a voice from long ago, from a time he'd tried to leave behind and had spend decades trying to forget. The cowl dropped and a wordless groan escaped from Suniel's lips. Kezzek glanced at him with concern and Kormak with curiosity.
Witherleg had clear half-elven heritage; high, elegant cheekbones, slightly pointed ears, and a thin beard. He sneered down at the group. “My other name is Danovin Au.”
He turned and stared down at Suniel. “Did you miss me father?”
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Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 17, Part 3
-Notes: This was one of my favorite sessions in the whole campaign. The upcoming revelation of Suniel's past had me practically shaking with excitement before the session and the shocked silence as it unfolded was one of the most gratifying hours of gaming ever.-
Suniel stood, head bowed in disbelief. He was vaguely aware of the others staring at him but his focus was on his son, standing high above them.
“Surprised father?” Danovin said. “Thought you'd run far enough to be rid of us by now, I imagine.”
“It was only because-” Suniel began.
“What?” Danovin shouted, limping a few steps closer to the edge of the platform. “It was only so Thessalock wouldn't find us when you left? Well he did father, he did. Mother died because of him, because of you. He didn't believe us when we said we didn't know where you went, that you'd simply abandoned us. He didn't believe you'd just run away and leave us behind at his mercy. So he had to do this to be sure.”
Danovin pulled the drape of the robe aside to reveal his legs. Even with pants over them, it was easy to see how his right leg was bent and misshapen.
“I thought it would keep you safe, I never meant-” Suniel said.
“No, you never meant any of it. No father, of course you didn't,” Danovin said, snarling. “I see your companions are surprised, angry even. I guess you never told them that Thessalock once treated you like a brother, thought of you as a brother. Never told them that it was your research that helped him become what he is today.”
Suniel could feel Harold's eyes boring into him, could hear Kezzek's low growl.
“No, you obviously didn't tell them. If you did, they'd hate you, hate you like I do. You ran away after Thessalock drained you of all your power, but when he found me, he made sure I could never run. He's the only one I could hate more than you.” There was something wild about Danovin, a madness to the way he moved and stood and spoke, as if even he didn't know what he was about to do or say.
Suniel leaned on Keeper, needing some solid weight as it seemed the weight of the world had fallen upon him.
“Ahah, but I was smart, father. Cunning, like you. He took me in, at first because it amused him, but then because I made him need me. I took a page from your book and made myself indispensable to him. An Au was his right hand once, and now is again.”
“You serve the Ashen Tower?” Harold said, glaring up with hard eyes, hand gripping his bow tightly.
“Ha! I serve no one, like my father before me. Like him, I only serve myself,” Danovin said. “I pay lip service to Thessalock, but behind his back I gather power of my own.”
“Then what do you do here, what do you hope to accomplish?” Kezzek said. "What power can you gather at this mountain?"
A sly smile came across the half-elf's face. “I learned from Thessalock and learned of him. I listened and waited and in the Shadow Council I discovered his many secrets. Now I have found one that will be his undoing. A whisper in the Shadow Tower repeated his words.”
“'The Black Orb atop the Landspear, it must be kept safe,' Thessalock said. 'The white beast that flies about the world's top, let us aid it that it might protect my the Orb. It alone protects me from the single real threat to the power of the Ashen Tower.' That is what the whisper told me and so here I stand."
"Not three days ago did I delivered Thessalock to the shores of the Landspear Lake. I watched as he destroyed Steamport, smiling in my heart as I grovelled at his feet, for I knew what I now know - how to unleash upon him that which he fears most.”
“What is it? What is it that this Orb protects him from?” Kezzek said.
“Something terrible indeed, for I have seen the half-substantial things that walk the walls of the Tower. Things terrible and broken and dark, torn from the mad places between worlds or conjured up from the depths of the Void,” Danovin's voice dropped as he spoke, until Suniel could barely hear its chill whisper. “And those things fear him, hide in his shadow and swirl in the eddies of his passing. I tremble with fear even as I rejoice to see what unworldly thing will be unleashed upon him when this task is complete.”
“How do you know that it will be some dark thing?” Harold said. “Thessalock is like a beacon of darkness, a foul blot upon the face of the world. Perhaps this Orb protects him from some great beings of light that will descend from the heavens and destroy him.”
“Ha! There are no such things!” Danovin said, laughing. “There are only shadows and the powers that cast them. If you don't find a way to cast a shadow of your own your are doomed to hide in the darkness of another.”
“That is not true, Danovin,” Suniel said, his voice quiet and more even than he felt. “There is light in this world. It has taken many years, but I have begun to see it. It is there if you will but look to see!”
Danovin stared down at him and their eyes met. For a moment the subtle madness that filled Danovin's eyes seemed to clear and a surge of hope grew in Suniel's chest.
“Father,” Danovin said, tears coming to his eyes as he extended a hand towards Suniel. “Father, come with me. Let us destroy the white beast, let us dismantle the Black Orb. We can return to the Ashen Tower together and cast Thessalock down.”
“And then what?” Suniel said. “After Thessalock is destroyed, what will happen then?”
“Then, we can seize the tower!” Danovin said, his voice becoming almost childlike in its excitement. “All the dark things that follow him will be cast out. Your experiments are the basis for what he has created - he would be nothing today without you! You can recreate the ones that you destroyed before you left and we will be even more powerful than he is. What he has created is nothing compared to what we can create, what we will create together!”
“No! There is a reason why I fled, why I let him drain me of those terrible powers I should never have possessed,” Suniel said, voice breaking. “I saw it only as research, but I was playing with the boundaries between life and death, channeling forbidden energies that should never be allowed into this world. That is why I left. I only wish I had been more thorough, that Thessalock hadn't been able to recreate so many of my... so much of my... All the terrible...” He broke off, biting back tears.
What little light there was in Danovin's face fell away as Suniel spoke, as if some final hope had finally left him. His expression became hard, cold, and cruel, his eyes empty and dark.
“I will come with you to help you do this thing,” Harold said, taking a step forward. “We can destroy the beast and Thessalock's Orb together.”
Danovin turned towards Harold slowly, as if the energy had all left his body. “Oh? And what would you ask, Harold Trisden, mighty Agent of the Crystal Towers.”
“How do you know who I am?”
“You think Thessalock doesn't see you all? His spies are everywhere. There is no one you can trust,” Danovin said, his eyes returning to Suniel as he spoke. “Anyone will turn on you in a heartbeat if you do not take suitable precautions.” He gestured towards the three almost-forgotten canvas-covered shapes on the lower platform.
Harold's expression darkened. “Well, then perhaps in exchange for my help, you might tell me of the spies within the Crystal Towers. Once you overthrow Thessalock, I'm sure the Crystal Towers can come to some accord with-”
Danovin turned away and waved a dismissing hand in Harold's direction. “I have no use for you.”
“Then I have no use for you either, pawn of Thessalock” Harold said, gritting his teeth and reaching for an arrow.
Danovin made a subtle gesture and suddenly the small platform upon which he stood shot up out of the bubble, riding the metal rail and passing out of sight before any of them could react.
There was a moment of silence as the others glanced amongst themselves and cast accusing, suspicious glares at Suniel. He dropped his head, his heart heavy.
A shrill whistle sounded from somewhere high above them.
The three canvas covered shapes on the large platform exploded, canvas shredding and splinters flying as three monstrous winged shapes burst from them, each creature breaking free to the sound of its own distinct and terrible roar.
-Notes: This was one of my favorite sessions in the whole campaign. The upcoming revelation of Suniel's past had me practically shaking with excitement before the session and the shocked silence as it unfolded was one of the most gratifying hours of gaming ever.-
Suniel stood, head bowed in disbelief. He was vaguely aware of the others staring at him but his focus was on his son, standing high above them.
“Surprised father?” Danovin said. “Thought you'd run far enough to be rid of us by now, I imagine.”
“It was only because-” Suniel began.
“What?” Danovin shouted, limping a few steps closer to the edge of the platform. “It was only so Thessalock wouldn't find us when you left? Well he did father, he did. Mother died because of him, because of you. He didn't believe us when we said we didn't know where you went, that you'd simply abandoned us. He didn't believe you'd just run away and leave us behind at his mercy. So he had to do this to be sure.”
Danovin pulled the drape of the robe aside to reveal his legs. Even with pants over them, it was easy to see how his right leg was bent and misshapen.
“I thought it would keep you safe, I never meant-” Suniel said.
“No, you never meant any of it. No father, of course you didn't,” Danovin said, snarling. “I see your companions are surprised, angry even. I guess you never told them that Thessalock once treated you like a brother, thought of you as a brother. Never told them that it was your research that helped him become what he is today.”
Suniel could feel Harold's eyes boring into him, could hear Kezzek's low growl.
“No, you obviously didn't tell them. If you did, they'd hate you, hate you like I do. You ran away after Thessalock drained you of all your power, but when he found me, he made sure I could never run. He's the only one I could hate more than you.” There was something wild about Danovin, a madness to the way he moved and stood and spoke, as if even he didn't know what he was about to do or say.
Suniel leaned on Keeper, needing some solid weight as it seemed the weight of the world had fallen upon him.
“Ahah, but I was smart, father. Cunning, like you. He took me in, at first because it amused him, but then because I made him need me. I took a page from your book and made myself indispensable to him. An Au was his right hand once, and now is again.”
“You serve the Ashen Tower?” Harold said, glaring up with hard eyes, hand gripping his bow tightly.
“Ha! I serve no one, like my father before me. Like him, I only serve myself,” Danovin said. “I pay lip service to Thessalock, but behind his back I gather power of my own.”
“Then what do you do here, what do you hope to accomplish?” Kezzek said. "What power can you gather at this mountain?"
A sly smile came across the half-elf's face. “I learned from Thessalock and learned of him. I listened and waited and in the Shadow Council I discovered his many secrets. Now I have found one that will be his undoing. A whisper in the Shadow Tower repeated his words.”
“'The Black Orb atop the Landspear, it must be kept safe,' Thessalock said. 'The white beast that flies about the world's top, let us aid it that it might protect my the Orb. It alone protects me from the single real threat to the power of the Ashen Tower.' That is what the whisper told me and so here I stand."
"Not three days ago did I delivered Thessalock to the shores of the Landspear Lake. I watched as he destroyed Steamport, smiling in my heart as I grovelled at his feet, for I knew what I now know - how to unleash upon him that which he fears most.”
“What is it? What is it that this Orb protects him from?” Kezzek said.
“Something terrible indeed, for I have seen the half-substantial things that walk the walls of the Tower. Things terrible and broken and dark, torn from the mad places between worlds or conjured up from the depths of the Void,” Danovin's voice dropped as he spoke, until Suniel could barely hear its chill whisper. “And those things fear him, hide in his shadow and swirl in the eddies of his passing. I tremble with fear even as I rejoice to see what unworldly thing will be unleashed upon him when this task is complete.”
“How do you know that it will be some dark thing?” Harold said. “Thessalock is like a beacon of darkness, a foul blot upon the face of the world. Perhaps this Orb protects him from some great beings of light that will descend from the heavens and destroy him.”
“Ha! There are no such things!” Danovin said, laughing. “There are only shadows and the powers that cast them. If you don't find a way to cast a shadow of your own your are doomed to hide in the darkness of another.”
“That is not true, Danovin,” Suniel said, his voice quiet and more even than he felt. “There is light in this world. It has taken many years, but I have begun to see it. It is there if you will but look to see!”
Danovin stared down at him and their eyes met. For a moment the subtle madness that filled Danovin's eyes seemed to clear and a surge of hope grew in Suniel's chest.
“Father,” Danovin said, tears coming to his eyes as he extended a hand towards Suniel. “Father, come with me. Let us destroy the white beast, let us dismantle the Black Orb. We can return to the Ashen Tower together and cast Thessalock down.”
“And then what?” Suniel said. “After Thessalock is destroyed, what will happen then?”
“Then, we can seize the tower!” Danovin said, his voice becoming almost childlike in its excitement. “All the dark things that follow him will be cast out. Your experiments are the basis for what he has created - he would be nothing today without you! You can recreate the ones that you destroyed before you left and we will be even more powerful than he is. What he has created is nothing compared to what we can create, what we will create together!”
“No! There is a reason why I fled, why I let him drain me of those terrible powers I should never have possessed,” Suniel said, voice breaking. “I saw it only as research, but I was playing with the boundaries between life and death, channeling forbidden energies that should never be allowed into this world. That is why I left. I only wish I had been more thorough, that Thessalock hadn't been able to recreate so many of my... so much of my... All the terrible...” He broke off, biting back tears.
What little light there was in Danovin's face fell away as Suniel spoke, as if some final hope had finally left him. His expression became hard, cold, and cruel, his eyes empty and dark.
“I will come with you to help you do this thing,” Harold said, taking a step forward. “We can destroy the beast and Thessalock's Orb together.”
Danovin turned towards Harold slowly, as if the energy had all left his body. “Oh? And what would you ask, Harold Trisden, mighty Agent of the Crystal Towers.”
“How do you know who I am?”
“You think Thessalock doesn't see you all? His spies are everywhere. There is no one you can trust,” Danovin said, his eyes returning to Suniel as he spoke. “Anyone will turn on you in a heartbeat if you do not take suitable precautions.” He gestured towards the three almost-forgotten canvas-covered shapes on the lower platform.
Harold's expression darkened. “Well, then perhaps in exchange for my help, you might tell me of the spies within the Crystal Towers. Once you overthrow Thessalock, I'm sure the Crystal Towers can come to some accord with-”
Danovin turned away and waved a dismissing hand in Harold's direction. “I have no use for you.”
“Then I have no use for you either, pawn of Thessalock” Harold said, gritting his teeth and reaching for an arrow.
Danovin made a subtle gesture and suddenly the small platform upon which he stood shot up out of the bubble, riding the metal rail and passing out of sight before any of them could react.
There was a moment of silence as the others glanced amongst themselves and cast accusing, suspicious glares at Suniel. He dropped his head, his heart heavy.
A shrill whistle sounded from somewhere high above them.
The three canvas covered shapes on the large platform exploded, canvas shredding and splinters flying as three monstrous winged shapes burst from them, each creature breaking free to the sound of its own distinct and terrible roar.
Last edited:
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