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<blockquote data-quote="Aristoi" data-source="post: 2687625" data-attributes="member: 32975"><p>A few minutes later the three bloodied ex-slaves sat on the flagstones and sipped their healing draughts, trying to recover from the injuries that had taken. Gnolls and humans weren’t an easy battle unless they were green, though none of these had been green at all. </p><p></p><p>“That was a bit different…” Elim started to say and then heard something moving inside the warehouse. </p><p></p><p>“Oh fu-fu-fu- “Adama started to curse as the doors exploded outward and a lumbering Golem exploded out. It eyes burned with cold green fire, filigree chased its breastplate and its limbs and head and a roar erupted from its mouth. Idly it swatted the Captain aside and charged Adama, even as arrows hitting it dead center of its chest skittered off without effect. </p><p></p><p>“It’s got a ring on it Ada-“ Elim called just before the golem swung a terrific blow, knocking the archer senseless several feet away. </p><p></p><p>“Ring?” Adama asked and took a second took look even as the Golem turned to finish him off as well. Seeing a gold band of sorts, like a much larger version fo what had been in their noses welded to the Golem’s chest. He stepped back and waited. ~One chance~ he thought. </p><p></p><p>The colossus took a hack at the smaller Ibixian who managed, only by the grace of luck, to avoid being cloven twain. It swung again and this time it stumbled over the corpse of one of the previous guards, pasting him like a boiled root. </p><p></p><p>Which was exactly the chance Adama needed and he stabbed, hoping the blade he wielded would be enough. He drove the point with all of his considerable might, the point slammed into the left chest of the construct and with a screaming screech it skittered across the thing’s chest and caught the edge of the ring, snapping it off of its bindings. He closed his eyes, seeing the sword coming down even as this happened, knowing he was about to die. </p><p></p><p>It took a moment to realize he wasn’t dead, though he had felt the wind of the blade’s swing caress his head and face, it was as if he had passed through the weapon. He opened one eye and saw the edge of the sword, mere inches from his face, held in place motionless by the Golem. He opened both eyes and edged away slightly only to be frozen in place as the Golem spoke. </p><p></p><p>“Hold,” it ordered and brought the sword around in a fluid flourish, sliding it into the sheath across its back. “I would speak with you if you are able.”</p><p></p><p>“Y-y-you-ou-ou speak?” Adama asked, hesitant from amazement. </p><p></p><p>“Of course I do,” the giant said with what seemed to be aggrieved humor. “I take it that doesn’t happen much around here?” </p><p></p><p>“Well,” Adama replied cautiously, “not when o-o-one is dealing with a… you a-a-are a construct a-a-aren’t you?”</p><p></p><p>“No,” came the surprising response. “That is, not what you think of when *you* say that”. It/he reached up and laid his hand flat against his chest. Adama idly noted the hand had two fingers and a thumb and had hinges for knuckles. “I am a Warforged and I am not from your world.”</p><p></p><p>“What do you mean ‘not from our world’?” Elim asked irritably, raising himself up to a sitting position and spitting out grit. </p><p></p><p>“Would you care for some assistance,” the ‘Warforged’ asked courteously, stepping over and offering a hand. </p><p></p><p>“No,” Elim replied in the same tone, levering himself up using his bow. “The question?” </p><p></p><p>“I am from a world called Eberron. I was summoned by one of those crimson-cloaked wizards to fight in his games and I was eventually sold into slavery to this merchant because I ceased to cooperate.” He/it shrugged, “My kind are slaves no longer and the fire of freedom is very hot within us. I injured you, yes?”</p><p></p><p>“You and them,” Elim gestured with his chin at the dead bodies around them. </p><p></p><p>Holding his hands out to Elim, palms facing his head, the ‘Warforged’ murmured some words and a silvery light shone from them, bathing Elim’s head in its radiance. It lasted but a moment before flickering away and the cuts and bruises he had endured had vanished utterly, his skin unmarred. The big metal creature staggered slightly and placed a hand to his/its head, as if to clear it. “’Wasn’t sure I could still do that.”</p><p></p><p>“You’re a paladin aren’t you?” Elim asked, scrutinizing the creature, still not having thanked him. </p><p></p><p>“I am.”</p><p></p><p>“That you can still Heal means that you aren’t cut off from your gods here,” Elim pointed out. “That means its likely you can get home. It also means its likely you’re still here for a reason.” </p><p></p><p>“That reasoning is sound,” the ‘Warforged’ cocked his head as if considering the words before nodding agreement, “yes, I agree.”</p><p></p><p>“I am Elim,” he said and offered his hand to be shaken, rather fearlessly Adama noted. </p><p></p><p>“I am Gareth Silvergilt of the Mist Wastes,” came the reply and the grip was soft and careful. </p><p></p><p>“I am Kilmor,” said the Yak-possessing-the-man.</p><p></p><p>“I am A-a-adama,” he stepped forward and shook hands. “You turned my sword,” he asked suddenly, remembering. “How is that possible? It is Adamantine.” </p><p></p><p>“As am I,” came the reply with what sounded like a smile. </p><p></p><p>Adama and Elim’s mouths dropped open and stayed that way for a two full breaths apiece. “Y-y-you’re serious?” Elim asked, sounding like Adama for a moment. </p><p></p><p>“Yes,” and his eyebrows, for he did have them, quirked at them. “I take it the metal is very rare here?” </p><p></p><p>“Very much so indeed,” came Adama’s reply. </p><p></p><p>“Then at last,” Gareth’s voice rang out in mock-exultation, “I have greater worth in the eyes of my fleshly peers than I ever thought I would.” </p><p></p><p>“It is as I surmised then,” Elim responded with a grim smile, “you are something of an outcast in your world. You entire people are?” </p><p></p><p>“Yes,” Gareth replied sadly. “It is true that we were created by fleshly beings though not as normal servants. Instead, we were created as warriors to fight in a great war that had lasted nearly a hundred years. In desperation, undead and summoned creatures were used, demons and other foul magicks were employed and one kingdom, Cyre, made us.” He paused and seemed to need a moment to gather himself. Elim, touched despite himself, reached out and placed his taloned hand on the Warforged’s forearm. </p><p></p><p>“So,” he seemed to sob, “in the end the Kingdom of Cyre was blasted into a Waste. A barrier was formed that kept in what was there and kept out, mostly, what was there. Natural creatures and Warforged could pass but demons and the like were stopped. The only good that came of it was that the war ended and my people were freed from fighting, though now we had to find a new way to live even though we do not, in the way that you do.” </p><p></p><p>“That’s really… “ Elim shrugged sympathetically and looked down. He didn’t have word to express the loss he felt and the horror that an entire country could be turned into a blasted waste and would be required to get people’s attention, to stop a war. </p><p></p><p>“I know,” Gareth replied softly. “So, you were here for a reason, yes? What can I help you with, since you freed me from my slavery?”</p><p></p><p>“We’re ex-slaves ourselves and were kept in a kind of zoo by a Red Wizard. Recently we and many of our fellow captives escaped and fled though we three and one more chose to flee together and to see if we could make it to my home first.” He gestured to Elim, “We are disparate people, who normally might have killed one another if we did not have commonality.” He gestured to the warehouse, “One of our number, an ex-slave, is missing and we believe he is here having been captured into slavery again.” </p><p></p><p>“In slavery,” Gareth replied thoughtfully, “he would be kept elsewhere. You are sure that this is the merchant that took your friend?” </p><p></p><p>“We have a kind of divination magic that showed us,” Elim replied, leaning on the bow. </p><p></p><p>“Then your friend was taken recently and has yet to be sold.” He gestured to the docks and the barge they could see floating on the closest sprit. “He would be there, if all else is correct.” </p><p></p><p>In the distance they could see figures, though it was difficult to see who or what they were. Only that there were several. </p><p></p><p>“Perhaps you should check again?” Gareth suggested. </p><p></p><p>Adama nodded and took out the compass and spoke a name, “S’lann.”</p><p></p><p>The compass needle swung towards the barge and then slightly off from it and as they watched it moved downstream ever so slowly. The rings displayed “living”, “healthy” and “fleeing”. </p><p></p><p>“Dammit,” Adama cursed and showed Gareth the display who, surprisingly, also read Draconic. It was his damned item and he couldn’t even read it but it seemed everyone else *could*. </p><p></p><p>Yolen was SO going to get a black eye when he saw him again. </p><p></p><p>“It appears he’s headed out of town, likely outside the walls.” Elim chuckled, “He probably thinks to find us in the woods and meet with us there, forgetting we said we would come for him otherwise.”</p><p></p><p>“Perhaps he merely seeks to intercept you and prevent the same thing happening to you that did to him?” Gareth asked, playing advocate. </p><p></p><p>Adama and Elim gave him a look that squelched that suggestion immediately. “Our friend is very smart but he is not overly… wise. He is far too honest for his own good and because of our mutual background he tends to forget how special he can be.” </p><p></p><p>“How is that? Gareth asked, scratching the side of his head and making sounds that made the other two cringe. </p><p></p><p>SKREAK, SKREAAAAK</p><p></p><p>“If you’ll stop that-“ Elim implored him and when he complied he explained, “S’lann is a formshifter and he often forgets he can do other things when he’s in those shapes.”</p><p></p><p>“Ah! A Changeling!” Gareth replied. </p><p></p><p>“Um, no.” Elim replied faintly. “Those things are… well, they’re not… S’lann isn’t a Changeling.”</p><p></p><p>“Well then what is he?”</p><p></p><p>“Fey’ri,” came the soft answer and both braced for some kind of religious diatribe. </p><p></p><p>Instead Gareth stroked his chins lowly to prevent the sounds and offered, “I will judge him by his acts then. I could ask for nothing else for myself.” </p><p></p><p>Adama and Elim exchanged looks and Adama asked puzzled, “How is it that you are a Paladin and do not fly to slay a Demon?” </p><p></p><p>“Eberron is a very magickal place, my friend. Demons are to be treated with caution though they can oft prove useful or even friendly.” He gestured to himself, “When you saw me you assumed I was one thing when inside, I am very different. I would be a hypocrite were I to make the same assumptions about others.” </p><p></p><p>“That is very wise of you,” Elim responded with a faint smile, “and enlightened.” </p><p></p><p>“I thought it was just common-sense,” he replied with a chuckle. </p><p></p><p>“It is not so-o-o common,” Adama told him agreeably, “trust me.” </p><p></p><p>“I do,” he replied and then turned to the barge and the river. “What is your plan?” </p><p></p><p>“We must collect our friend and we must find his possessions,” Elim replied. “We may get in and out of the gates through subterfuge by ourselves but not with you along.”</p><p></p><p>“’Would you be willing to wait here for us to return for you?” Kilmor asked, suddenly speaking after watching it all and saying nothing. </p><p></p><p>“If you promised to return,” Gareth replied softly, “I will.”</p><p></p><p>“I do so,” Kilmor replied, “lest we perish in the attempt.” </p><p></p><p>“Then let’s be off,” Elim said and pointed to the mellow halves Adama had cast off earlier. “You’ll need those again.”</p><p></p><p>Adama screwed up his face at the thought and sighed, “I so used to like me-e-e-lon.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Aristoi, post: 2687625, member: 32975"] A few minutes later the three bloodied ex-slaves sat on the flagstones and sipped their healing draughts, trying to recover from the injuries that had taken. Gnolls and humans weren’t an easy battle unless they were green, though none of these had been green at all. “That was a bit different…” Elim started to say and then heard something moving inside the warehouse. “Oh fu-fu-fu- “Adama started to curse as the doors exploded outward and a lumbering Golem exploded out. It eyes burned with cold green fire, filigree chased its breastplate and its limbs and head and a roar erupted from its mouth. Idly it swatted the Captain aside and charged Adama, even as arrows hitting it dead center of its chest skittered off without effect. “It’s got a ring on it Ada-“ Elim called just before the golem swung a terrific blow, knocking the archer senseless several feet away. “Ring?” Adama asked and took a second took look even as the Golem turned to finish him off as well. Seeing a gold band of sorts, like a much larger version fo what had been in their noses welded to the Golem’s chest. He stepped back and waited. ~One chance~ he thought. The colossus took a hack at the smaller Ibixian who managed, only by the grace of luck, to avoid being cloven twain. It swung again and this time it stumbled over the corpse of one of the previous guards, pasting him like a boiled root. Which was exactly the chance Adama needed and he stabbed, hoping the blade he wielded would be enough. He drove the point with all of his considerable might, the point slammed into the left chest of the construct and with a screaming screech it skittered across the thing’s chest and caught the edge of the ring, snapping it off of its bindings. He closed his eyes, seeing the sword coming down even as this happened, knowing he was about to die. It took a moment to realize he wasn’t dead, though he had felt the wind of the blade’s swing caress his head and face, it was as if he had passed through the weapon. He opened one eye and saw the edge of the sword, mere inches from his face, held in place motionless by the Golem. He opened both eyes and edged away slightly only to be frozen in place as the Golem spoke. “Hold,” it ordered and brought the sword around in a fluid flourish, sliding it into the sheath across its back. “I would speak with you if you are able.” “Y-y-you-ou-ou speak?” Adama asked, hesitant from amazement. “Of course I do,” the giant said with what seemed to be aggrieved humor. “I take it that doesn’t happen much around here?” “Well,” Adama replied cautiously, “not when o-o-one is dealing with a… you a-a-are a construct a-a-aren’t you?” “No,” came the surprising response. “That is, not what you think of when *you* say that”. It/he reached up and laid his hand flat against his chest. Adama idly noted the hand had two fingers and a thumb and had hinges for knuckles. “I am a Warforged and I am not from your world.” “What do you mean ‘not from our world’?” Elim asked irritably, raising himself up to a sitting position and spitting out grit. “Would you care for some assistance,” the ‘Warforged’ asked courteously, stepping over and offering a hand. “No,” Elim replied in the same tone, levering himself up using his bow. “The question?” “I am from a world called Eberron. I was summoned by one of those crimson-cloaked wizards to fight in his games and I was eventually sold into slavery to this merchant because I ceased to cooperate.” He/it shrugged, “My kind are slaves no longer and the fire of freedom is very hot within us. I injured you, yes?” “You and them,” Elim gestured with his chin at the dead bodies around them. Holding his hands out to Elim, palms facing his head, the ‘Warforged’ murmured some words and a silvery light shone from them, bathing Elim’s head in its radiance. It lasted but a moment before flickering away and the cuts and bruises he had endured had vanished utterly, his skin unmarred. The big metal creature staggered slightly and placed a hand to his/its head, as if to clear it. “’Wasn’t sure I could still do that.” “You’re a paladin aren’t you?” Elim asked, scrutinizing the creature, still not having thanked him. “I am.” “That you can still Heal means that you aren’t cut off from your gods here,” Elim pointed out. “That means its likely you can get home. It also means its likely you’re still here for a reason.” “That reasoning is sound,” the ‘Warforged’ cocked his head as if considering the words before nodding agreement, “yes, I agree.” “I am Elim,” he said and offered his hand to be shaken, rather fearlessly Adama noted. “I am Gareth Silvergilt of the Mist Wastes,” came the reply and the grip was soft and careful. “I am Kilmor,” said the Yak-possessing-the-man. “I am A-a-adama,” he stepped forward and shook hands. “You turned my sword,” he asked suddenly, remembering. “How is that possible? It is Adamantine.” “As am I,” came the reply with what sounded like a smile. Adama and Elim’s mouths dropped open and stayed that way for a two full breaths apiece. “Y-y-you’re serious?” Elim asked, sounding like Adama for a moment. “Yes,” and his eyebrows, for he did have them, quirked at them. “I take it the metal is very rare here?” “Very much so indeed,” came Adama’s reply. “Then at last,” Gareth’s voice rang out in mock-exultation, “I have greater worth in the eyes of my fleshly peers than I ever thought I would.” “It is as I surmised then,” Elim responded with a grim smile, “you are something of an outcast in your world. You entire people are?” “Yes,” Gareth replied sadly. “It is true that we were created by fleshly beings though not as normal servants. Instead, we were created as warriors to fight in a great war that had lasted nearly a hundred years. In desperation, undead and summoned creatures were used, demons and other foul magicks were employed and one kingdom, Cyre, made us.” He paused and seemed to need a moment to gather himself. Elim, touched despite himself, reached out and placed his taloned hand on the Warforged’s forearm. “So,” he seemed to sob, “in the end the Kingdom of Cyre was blasted into a Waste. A barrier was formed that kept in what was there and kept out, mostly, what was there. Natural creatures and Warforged could pass but demons and the like were stopped. The only good that came of it was that the war ended and my people were freed from fighting, though now we had to find a new way to live even though we do not, in the way that you do.” “That’s really… “ Elim shrugged sympathetically and looked down. He didn’t have word to express the loss he felt and the horror that an entire country could be turned into a blasted waste and would be required to get people’s attention, to stop a war. “I know,” Gareth replied softly. “So, you were here for a reason, yes? What can I help you with, since you freed me from my slavery?” “We’re ex-slaves ourselves and were kept in a kind of zoo by a Red Wizard. Recently we and many of our fellow captives escaped and fled though we three and one more chose to flee together and to see if we could make it to my home first.” He gestured to Elim, “We are disparate people, who normally might have killed one another if we did not have commonality.” He gestured to the warehouse, “One of our number, an ex-slave, is missing and we believe he is here having been captured into slavery again.” “In slavery,” Gareth replied thoughtfully, “he would be kept elsewhere. You are sure that this is the merchant that took your friend?” “We have a kind of divination magic that showed us,” Elim replied, leaning on the bow. “Then your friend was taken recently and has yet to be sold.” He gestured to the docks and the barge they could see floating on the closest sprit. “He would be there, if all else is correct.” In the distance they could see figures, though it was difficult to see who or what they were. Only that there were several. “Perhaps you should check again?” Gareth suggested. Adama nodded and took out the compass and spoke a name, “S’lann.” The compass needle swung towards the barge and then slightly off from it and as they watched it moved downstream ever so slowly. The rings displayed “living”, “healthy” and “fleeing”. “Dammit,” Adama cursed and showed Gareth the display who, surprisingly, also read Draconic. It was his damned item and he couldn’t even read it but it seemed everyone else *could*. Yolen was SO going to get a black eye when he saw him again. “It appears he’s headed out of town, likely outside the walls.” Elim chuckled, “He probably thinks to find us in the woods and meet with us there, forgetting we said we would come for him otherwise.” “Perhaps he merely seeks to intercept you and prevent the same thing happening to you that did to him?” Gareth asked, playing advocate. Adama and Elim gave him a look that squelched that suggestion immediately. “Our friend is very smart but he is not overly… wise. He is far too honest for his own good and because of our mutual background he tends to forget how special he can be.” “How is that? Gareth asked, scratching the side of his head and making sounds that made the other two cringe. SKREAK, SKREAAAAK “If you’ll stop that-“ Elim implored him and when he complied he explained, “S’lann is a formshifter and he often forgets he can do other things when he’s in those shapes.” “Ah! A Changeling!” Gareth replied. “Um, no.” Elim replied faintly. “Those things are… well, they’re not… S’lann isn’t a Changeling.” “Well then what is he?” “Fey’ri,” came the soft answer and both braced for some kind of religious diatribe. Instead Gareth stroked his chins lowly to prevent the sounds and offered, “I will judge him by his acts then. I could ask for nothing else for myself.” Adama and Elim exchanged looks and Adama asked puzzled, “How is it that you are a Paladin and do not fly to slay a Demon?” “Eberron is a very magickal place, my friend. Demons are to be treated with caution though they can oft prove useful or even friendly.” He gestured to himself, “When you saw me you assumed I was one thing when inside, I am very different. I would be a hypocrite were I to make the same assumptions about others.” “That is very wise of you,” Elim responded with a faint smile, “and enlightened.” “I thought it was just common-sense,” he replied with a chuckle. “It is not so-o-o common,” Adama told him agreeably, “trust me.” “I do,” he replied and then turned to the barge and the river. “What is your plan?” “We must collect our friend and we must find his possessions,” Elim replied. “We may get in and out of the gates through subterfuge by ourselves but not with you along.” “’Would you be willing to wait here for us to return for you?” Kilmor asked, suddenly speaking after watching it all and saying nothing. “If you promised to return,” Gareth replied softly, “I will.” “I do so,” Kilmor replied, “lest we perish in the attempt.” “Then let’s be off,” Elim said and pointed to the mellow halves Adama had cast off earlier. “You’ll need those again.” Adama screwed up his face at the thought and sighed, “I so used to like me-e-e-lon.” [/QUOTE]
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