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The Ardick Campaign - Chapter One: Repentance
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<blockquote data-quote="Angel of Adventure" data-source="post: 2165347" data-attributes="member: 19165"><p><strong>The Keep - Part II</strong></p><p></p><p>The keep consisted of a two-story square building. From their immediate vantage point, approximately 50 feet in front of its double doors, they could see a small balcony on top. Mhoram invoked a minor valence and flew up to it, scouting around the outside of the upper level for signs of life. When he found none, he landed on the balcony and gazed into what was once a spacious living quarters, now as wrecked and ransacked as the previous buildings.</p><p></p><p>He returned to his companions and reported his findings. They readied themselves to enter through the front doors. Darsint opened the door quietly, expecting resistance, but found the lock on the door destroyed. He entered, greatsword in hand, followed by Mhoram and an ever-ready Gherrick. An eerie silence permeated throughout the keep. All was dark save for the luminous presence of Aegle.</p><p></p><p>The bottom floor was deduced to be a reception room. Broken couches and tables littered themselves along the walls. A granite throne sat in the middle of the room and stairs leading upwards were positioned in the back, right hand quadrant. They explored all areas thoroughly after Mhoram magically sealed the entrance. Their explorations on both levels uncovered nothing that could aid them, either physically or intellectually, until Darsint returned to the throne.</p><p></p><p>Unwilling to accept their initial findings, Darsint pushed and cajoled the throne from every angle. A mighty shove from the back did indeed move the throne forward and revealed a square trap door. Mhoram took charge by examining it and, when the magical lock registered in his mind, he dispelled it quickly so that they could continue.</p><p></p><p>“Be ready,” commanded Darsint. “This place did not hide its secret for nothing. We have yet to find opposition and this should concern us all.”</p><p></p><p>The trap door opened into a stone staircase that led them downwards at a sharp angle. At the end was a locked wooden door that splintered into several large chunks by Darsint’s large hand, after Mhoram’s sanctioned its removal.</p><p></p><p>A large room opened before them and showed them an amazing sight. Centered in the room, behind a large translucent light blue and domed protective shield, was a large humanoid construct atop a small platform. It stood over 6 feet tall and stared at them with vacant eyes. Its construction was of a magical metal that Darsint recognized immediately: Mithrial. The construct bore no possession, aside from the greatsword sheathed on its right hip, and did not immediately react to their presence.</p><p></p><p>Four large cabinets lined the walls, two on a side. A large metal box, as tall and long as Darsint, sat to the immediate right of the construct with various tubes protruding from the top. It hummed softly, with an occasional spark issuing from the tubing.</p><p></p><p>Directly behind the dome that housed the creature was what appeared to be a podium. A glowing blue light emanated from it.</p><p></p><p>Mhoram centered himself and attempted to use his Incantrix powers to snatch away the protective blue dome. He was rebuffed.</p><p></p><p>“There is strong magic here,” he told them. “Too strong for even the likes of even myself.”</p><p></p><p>They avoided the humming box out of fear and uncertainty, content instead to explore the cabinets. Each one held a different part that made up the basic building blocks of the creature inside the dome. One held arms and hands, while another held pieces and components for legs and feet. The other two contained internal wirings and various pieces for the head unit, including eyes and a likely voice-box. All these parts were rapidly inserted into Darsint’s leather bag that seemed too small to fit them, but engulfed them easily.</p><p></p><p>The Travelers now gathered around the podium. It revealed a sight that none of them could have predicted. Instead of holding a book or manual, it had a glowing blue screen mounted into the wood. The symbol of a dragon’s claw pierced by a dagger floated lazily in front to them.</p><p></p><p>Mhoram reached forward and touched the blue screen with a lack of precaution that surprised them all. The claw and dagger disappeared, slowly fading away, and was replaced with a set of symbols only he could decipher.</p><p></p><p>WARFORGED PROGRAMMING SEQUENCE INITIATED.</p><p></p><p>ENTER SECURITY CLEARANCE:</p><p></p><p>The metal box to their left shook uncomfortably and the symbols on the screen were replaced by numbers they could all understand.</p><p></p><p>40 . . . 39 . . . 38 . . . </p><p></p><p>“Darsint, hand me the book quickly!,” spouted Mhoram. He quickly began looking through the handwritten notations on book’s inner cover. His companions could only watch in hope that the codes were somewhere in that tome, and that Mhoram was quick enough to find them.</p><p></p><p>25 . . . 24 . . . 23 . . . </p><p></p><p>The metal box let out a loud grinding noise that spurred Mhoram to look faster. More sparks erupted out of the top, hinting at its instability.</p><p></p><p>15 . . . 14 . . . 13 . . .</p><p></p><p>He found a set of unrecognizable characters, repeatedly circled and underlined, on the back inner cover and immediately touched the blue screen. The symbols leapt from his mind onto the screen and the countdown was replaced by three dots that expanded into five, and then back to three, for several repetitions.</p><p></p><p>SECURITY ACCESS GRANTED. ENTER NAME OF WARFORGED UNIT:</p><p></p><p>Touching the screen before another countdown could begin, the name H.A.L . leapt from Mhoram’s mind. The script cleared and was replaced by the dots again. Then, shortly thereafter, a yellow horizontal line, capped by two short vertical lines on each end, appeared along with the text:</p><p></p><p>SET AGGRESSION METER</p><p></p><p>40 . . . 39 . . . 38 . . . </p><p></p><p>Mhoram cursed himself for not becoming more familiar with Warforged Construction Basics before starting this task. Too late now, though, but he dared not set the meter without understanding what he was doing. His fingers tore through the pages, desperately looking for a corresponding diagram.</p><p></p><p>22 . . . 21 . . . 20 . . .</p><p></p><p>“Hurry, Mhoram!,” shouted Gherrick, quickly growing more and more fearful as the shaking metal box shuddered and lurched before them.</p><p></p><p>“Be prepared to fight this thing,” ordered Darsint. “We must expect the worst if it is activated.”</p><p></p><p>10 . . . 9 . . . 8</p><p></p><p>Mhoram found it, just in time, towards the middle of the book. The left side of the meter was labeled: Passive. The right side: Violent. He touched the left side of the meter on the screen, setting it all the way to Passive. He hoped he was making the right choice. The counter stopped at 3, and then the screen went back to its glowing blue projection with small dots blinking across the top. Text did not appear for several minutes, during which time a loud whirling noise continually issued forth from the unstable metal box.</p><p></p><p>The whirling died down and was replaced by a violent shuddering. More text appeared on the screen:</p><p></p><p>SET ETHICAL PARADIGM METER</p><p></p><p>Again, a yellow horizontal bar appeared, capped by short vertical bars on each end. As expected, the countdown began anew.</p><p></p><p>Mhoram’s metal fingers raced through the book as his frantic search for guidance continued. Darsint drew his sword and Gherrick notched an arrow to prepare for the violent end that they all expected.</p><p></p><p>12 . . . 11 . . . 10</p><p></p><p>“It’s not in here!,” screamed Mhoram, his calm face transformed into fear. Sweat lined his brow and dribbled into his eyes.</p><p></p><p>“Do something! Do anything!,” barked Darsint. “This place will be dust soon if you don’t act now!”</p><p></p><p>As if to underscore his comments, the metal box shook itself violently and streams of lightning emerged from the top. It rattled and rumbled, seemingly on the brink of annihilation.</p><p></p><p>4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1</p><p></p><p>Mhoram’s hand shot to the screen, roughly tapping the screen between the left hand side and middle of the meter. He closed his eyes and braced himself for an explosion.</p><p></p><p>All was quiet. None of them dared to even breathe.</p><p></p><p>The whirling sound started again and lasted for only a short minute. The blue dome around the Warforged immediately dissipated and the construct whirled to face them with a hand on the pommel of its sword. Its glowing red eyes locked onto Mhoram and it quickly advanced towards them.</p><p></p><p>Very well, thought Darsint, we shall see who is better made: you, or I.</p><p></p><p>Gherrick was a millisecond away from filling it full of arrows when it stopped several feet in front of them.</p><p></p><p>“Greetings, Master Program,” it intoned in a deep metallic-masculine voice, its eyes never leaving Mhoram. “Warforged Unit H.A.L. is now ready to take your orders.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Angel of Adventure, post: 2165347, member: 19165"] [b]The Keep - Part II[/b] The keep consisted of a two-story square building. From their immediate vantage point, approximately 50 feet in front of its double doors, they could see a small balcony on top. Mhoram invoked a minor valence and flew up to it, scouting around the outside of the upper level for signs of life. When he found none, he landed on the balcony and gazed into what was once a spacious living quarters, now as wrecked and ransacked as the previous buildings. He returned to his companions and reported his findings. They readied themselves to enter through the front doors. Darsint opened the door quietly, expecting resistance, but found the lock on the door destroyed. He entered, greatsword in hand, followed by Mhoram and an ever-ready Gherrick. An eerie silence permeated throughout the keep. All was dark save for the luminous presence of Aegle. The bottom floor was deduced to be a reception room. Broken couches and tables littered themselves along the walls. A granite throne sat in the middle of the room and stairs leading upwards were positioned in the back, right hand quadrant. They explored all areas thoroughly after Mhoram magically sealed the entrance. Their explorations on both levels uncovered nothing that could aid them, either physically or intellectually, until Darsint returned to the throne. Unwilling to accept their initial findings, Darsint pushed and cajoled the throne from every angle. A mighty shove from the back did indeed move the throne forward and revealed a square trap door. Mhoram took charge by examining it and, when the magical lock registered in his mind, he dispelled it quickly so that they could continue. “Be ready,” commanded Darsint. “This place did not hide its secret for nothing. We have yet to find opposition and this should concern us all.” The trap door opened into a stone staircase that led them downwards at a sharp angle. At the end was a locked wooden door that splintered into several large chunks by Darsint’s large hand, after Mhoram’s sanctioned its removal. A large room opened before them and showed them an amazing sight. Centered in the room, behind a large translucent light blue and domed protective shield, was a large humanoid construct atop a small platform. It stood over 6 feet tall and stared at them with vacant eyes. Its construction was of a magical metal that Darsint recognized immediately: Mithrial. The construct bore no possession, aside from the greatsword sheathed on its right hip, and did not immediately react to their presence. Four large cabinets lined the walls, two on a side. A large metal box, as tall and long as Darsint, sat to the immediate right of the construct with various tubes protruding from the top. It hummed softly, with an occasional spark issuing from the tubing. Directly behind the dome that housed the creature was what appeared to be a podium. A glowing blue light emanated from it. Mhoram centered himself and attempted to use his Incantrix powers to snatch away the protective blue dome. He was rebuffed. “There is strong magic here,” he told them. “Too strong for even the likes of even myself.” They avoided the humming box out of fear and uncertainty, content instead to explore the cabinets. Each one held a different part that made up the basic building blocks of the creature inside the dome. One held arms and hands, while another held pieces and components for legs and feet. The other two contained internal wirings and various pieces for the head unit, including eyes and a likely voice-box. All these parts were rapidly inserted into Darsint’s leather bag that seemed too small to fit them, but engulfed them easily. The Travelers now gathered around the podium. It revealed a sight that none of them could have predicted. Instead of holding a book or manual, it had a glowing blue screen mounted into the wood. The symbol of a dragon’s claw pierced by a dagger floated lazily in front to them. Mhoram reached forward and touched the blue screen with a lack of precaution that surprised them all. The claw and dagger disappeared, slowly fading away, and was replaced with a set of symbols only he could decipher. WARFORGED PROGRAMMING SEQUENCE INITIATED. ENTER SECURITY CLEARANCE: The metal box to their left shook uncomfortably and the symbols on the screen were replaced by numbers they could all understand. 40 . . . 39 . . . 38 . . . “Darsint, hand me the book quickly!,” spouted Mhoram. He quickly began looking through the handwritten notations on book’s inner cover. His companions could only watch in hope that the codes were somewhere in that tome, and that Mhoram was quick enough to find them. 25 . . . 24 . . . 23 . . . The metal box let out a loud grinding noise that spurred Mhoram to look faster. More sparks erupted out of the top, hinting at its instability. 15 . . . 14 . . . 13 . . . He found a set of unrecognizable characters, repeatedly circled and underlined, on the back inner cover and immediately touched the blue screen. The symbols leapt from his mind onto the screen and the countdown was replaced by three dots that expanded into five, and then back to three, for several repetitions. SECURITY ACCESS GRANTED. ENTER NAME OF WARFORGED UNIT: Touching the screen before another countdown could begin, the name H.A.L . leapt from Mhoram’s mind. The script cleared and was replaced by the dots again. Then, shortly thereafter, a yellow horizontal line, capped by two short vertical lines on each end, appeared along with the text: SET AGGRESSION METER 40 . . . 39 . . . 38 . . . Mhoram cursed himself for not becoming more familiar with Warforged Construction Basics before starting this task. Too late now, though, but he dared not set the meter without understanding what he was doing. His fingers tore through the pages, desperately looking for a corresponding diagram. 22 . . . 21 . . . 20 . . . “Hurry, Mhoram!,” shouted Gherrick, quickly growing more and more fearful as the shaking metal box shuddered and lurched before them. “Be prepared to fight this thing,” ordered Darsint. “We must expect the worst if it is activated.” 10 . . . 9 . . . 8 Mhoram found it, just in time, towards the middle of the book. The left side of the meter was labeled: Passive. The right side: Violent. He touched the left side of the meter on the screen, setting it all the way to Passive. He hoped he was making the right choice. The counter stopped at 3, and then the screen went back to its glowing blue projection with small dots blinking across the top. Text did not appear for several minutes, during which time a loud whirling noise continually issued forth from the unstable metal box. The whirling died down and was replaced by a violent shuddering. More text appeared on the screen: SET ETHICAL PARADIGM METER Again, a yellow horizontal bar appeared, capped by short vertical bars on each end. As expected, the countdown began anew. Mhoram’s metal fingers raced through the book as his frantic search for guidance continued. Darsint drew his sword and Gherrick notched an arrow to prepare for the violent end that they all expected. 12 . . . 11 . . . 10 “It’s not in here!,” screamed Mhoram, his calm face transformed into fear. Sweat lined his brow and dribbled into his eyes. “Do something! Do anything!,” barked Darsint. “This place will be dust soon if you don’t act now!” As if to underscore his comments, the metal box shook itself violently and streams of lightning emerged from the top. It rattled and rumbled, seemingly on the brink of annihilation. 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 Mhoram’s hand shot to the screen, roughly tapping the screen between the left hand side and middle of the meter. He closed his eyes and braced himself for an explosion. All was quiet. None of them dared to even breathe. The whirling sound started again and lasted for only a short minute. The blue dome around the Warforged immediately dissipated and the construct whirled to face them with a hand on the pommel of its sword. Its glowing red eyes locked onto Mhoram and it quickly advanced towards them. Very well, thought Darsint, we shall see who is better made: you, or I. Gherrick was a millisecond away from filling it full of arrows when it stopped several feet in front of them. “Greetings, Master Program,” it intoned in a deep metallic-masculine voice, its eyes never leaving Mhoram. “Warforged Unit H.A.L. is now ready to take your orders.” [/QUOTE]
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