The Rise of Felskein [Completed]
Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 7, Part 3
Neergrog snarled at Shro'kar and hefted his greataxe menacingly. "You must be stupid if you think I'll believe it was only two humans that destroyed the raft camp. Either that or you think I'm stupid. Neither is a very healthy way for you to be," Neergrog said.
Shro'kar was unfazed. "I didn't say there were only two, just that only two survived. We dug up the bodies of two others - a dwarf and a human woman - but didn't find any others. And if you were really going to try to do something 'unhealthy' to me, you wouldn't be paying me so much."
There was some noise from the passageway leading to the outpost's entrance and Neergrog glared in that direction at the disturbance. His eyes bulged. "You! I thought you were dead!"
Grok'nar stood with a chained figure in tow at the junction where the entrance passageway intercepted the passageways leading east to the barracks, north to Neergrog's audience chamber, and west to the rest of the outpost. "I brought a mighty gift to appease you, great Neergrog. I only hope that I might buy your mercy and appease you with a gift."
Neergrog was on his feet, already seeing red. He forced himself to calm slightly and looked over Grok'nar's prisoner. "He doesn't look like anything to me. Explain quickly and well or I'll make sure you die this time."
Grok'nor bowed - the hilt of a greatsword of human make jutting from his shoulder - and gestured to the human who stood, chin thrust out proudly, cooly appraising Neergrog. "This is the one that destroyed the raft camp."
"What?" Neergrog shouted, hefting his axe. "This one? This one alone?"
"He's lying - no lone human could do such a thing," Firon the Advisor said, walking closer to Neergrog's throne. Shro'kar and Dalak moved to flank Neergrog, readying their own weapons.
Grok'nar shrugged. "There were others - two died there and I dealt with the other this morning before I came here."
Hearing the numbers Shro'kar had just told him from another mouth cemented it for him and his vision tunneled on the arrogant human. He let out a roar and charged.
Suddenly, the human's chains were free, a greatsword in his hands. A split-second later two other figures suddenly appeared as well: an elf, already chanting and gesturing towards Neergrog and his entourage, and a huge half-orc with a wicked looking double-blade, stepping up next to Grok'nar and the human.
A bead of fire whizzed past Neergrog's head as he charged and a detonation of heat and flame washed over him from behind. He stumbled briefly, but the pain was washed away in a red wall of rage as he clashed with Grok'nar and his prisoner, Shro'kar and Dalak close behind him.
They slammed into the enemy and Neergrog bellowed for reinforcements. He brought his knee into Grok'nar's chest and shoved him back, distantly felt a slash tear into his shoulder, turned, and swept the human's feet out from under him. The human rolled away before Neergrog could follow up, leaping to his feet and turning to face the reinforcements that closed on the infiltrators from all sides. The elf chanted something else and the barracks tunnel was suddenly enveloped in a chill white cloud, radiating cold so strongly Neergrog could feel it from thirty feet away.
Dalak went down to the blades of the half-orc - a Greywarden some distant, logical part of his mind realized - while the human turned to slaughter the hobgoblins that stumbled, frostbitten and shivering uncontrollably, out of the white fog. Grok'nar planted a iron-shod boot in Neergrog's chest and sent him stumbling back.
Neergrog countered with a blow that split Grok'nar's shield in half, crunched into his arm, and slammed him into the wall, his sword flying from his hand. Neergrog roared triumphantly and lunged forward to finish the traitor off and was jerked to a halt.
He looked down, confused, and saw that Grok'nar had somehow gotten ahold of Dalak's sword. A foot of it was buried in Neergrog's chest. He roared again and swung his axe at Grok'nar's head, but the traitor sidestepped it almost casually and slid the blade in to the hilt, staring pitilessly into Neergrog's eyes as he did so.
Then Grok'nar shoved him away and he staggered back. Neergrog glanced down at the blade in his chest, snarled at the now unarmed and unmoving Grok'nar, and raised his axe to take the traitor with him.
Something slammed into Neergrog from the side and sent him sprawling. He looked up in time to see the human step over him, grim-eyed, sword and armor splattered with blood, his eyes pale and pitiless as Grok'nar's.
***
Neergrog's remaining bodyguard wisely dropped his sword the moment Neergrog was dead, raising his hands and backing away from Kezzek. Kezzek growled, kicked the hobgoblin's sword away, glanced around. The remaining hobgoblins followed suit, dropping weapons and quickly distancing themselves.
"Who is in charge here now?" Kezzek said, wandering towards the blackened and smoldering audience chamber.
The bodyguard pointed towards a charred form lying beside the throne. "Firon gave the orders when Neergrog was away. Looks like he's not up for much now, so I suppose I'm the chieftain," he said in rough Common.
Grok'nar walked over to the self-proclaimed chieftain and looked him over. "You're not from here, I don't recognize you."
"Shro'kar, mercenary from the Furnace Tribe."
"Furnace Tribe? I thought the High King wiped them out for refusing to go to war with the Mountain Clans," Grok'nar said.
"Wiped out is an exaggeration, but only just. Those of us who weren't captured and used as orc-fodder scattered. This seemed as good a place as any." He pointed at Neergrog's body. "He was a paranoid butcher with delusions of power, but he paid well and wasn't about to risk himself - and thus myself - in an actual attack on Northmand."
"I imagine you have little love for the High King," Suniel said, looking up from where he sat wrapping a bandage around a wound on his arm.
"Slight understatement." Shro'kar snorted. "The High King wiped out my Tribe for trying to give him tactical advice on the inadvisability of a three-front war. He can have his Iron Ring thugs, march them off into the Cracks or the Mist Tops to prove his dominance."
Harold exchanged glances with Suniel and Kezzek. Kezzek growled in thought as Harold walked over to whisper in his ear. "Sounds like this might be a good one to leave in charge here. If he agrees to halt the attacks on Northmand's mining operations and villages, we agree to leave him in charge..."
Kezzek turned to Grok'nar. "Is he chieftain by law?"
Grok'nar gave a lopsided grin. "The old chieftain is dead. Shro'kar here was the first to make claim, so he's chieftain unless someone else can kill him and make a new claim."
Kezzek nodded and turned to Harold. "It seems legal by the local customs." He walked over to Neergrog's body, picked up the old chieftain's axe, and tossed it to Shro'kar. The mercenary caught it deftly and quirked an eyebrow at Kezzek.
"Chief Shro'kar, I understand your people have been illegally raiding human settlements lately. With your cooperation, might I suggest the following for restitution..."
***
Suniel waved to Harold again, finally catching the archer's eye. Harold waited for everyone else to catch up.
"We need to stop," Suniel said. "Our escorts aren't taking the heat very well and, to be honest, I'm not either."
Harold looked at the half-dozen hobgoblins Shro'kar had sent to escort them out of hobgoblin lands as a show of good faith. Their honor guard were sagging in their saddles, looking on the verge of collapse. Grok'nar and the Greywarden rode up to them, Kezzek polishing his Greywarden gauntlet.
"Why we stopping?" Kezzek said.
Harold nodded to the hobgoblins. "I think we might need to travel at night. Otherwise we might end up carrying our escorts home."
Kezzek glanced at them and shrugged. "Works for me. Would probably help their horses too if ours took the restitution money now instead of at the border. Their mounts are much smaller breeds."
"I still don't see why we didn't just take everything. They probably got it all from raids on Northmand anyway," Harold said, glancing at the hobgoblin's bulging saddlebags.
"We don't need to go over that again," Suniel said. "It took us hours to get it all sorted out in the first place. Let's just rest here until tonight and head onwards tonight."
"Well..." Harold began, but Kezzek dismounted and motioned for the hobgoblins to do likewise. They looked up wearily, Grok'nar explained to them, and they almost fell off their horses in their haste to find the nearest shade.
***
Harold had chafed at the slow pace they were forced to take with their escorts along and was glad to be back in Northmand territory. The mission had gone off nearly without a hitch and the ambassador would be pleased.
We need Northmand, anything we can do to sway them to our side, he thought. Any ally against the Ashen Tower.
His mind fell to rehearsing how to best present this, to maximize the Crystal Tower's accomplishments on this journey in the telling of it.
He was lost in thought when Kezzek rode up to him, staring skywards. "Any idea what that is?"
Harold's eyes shot to the sky, scanning the area in the clear blue where Kezzek pointed. A moment later he saw it, still a black spec, but closing quickly. He groaned. "Why now?"
Suniel joined them, hand shielding his eyes against the sun. "Maybe if we talk to it this time, we can figure out what it is and why it wants Ming's amulet," the elf said, with a pointed glance in Harold's direction.
Harold sighed and reined in his horse. "All right, question it all you want. Nothing useful will come of it, I'd almost wager on it."
"Well, if you destroy this one too, we'll never know, will we?" Suniel said, waving to the thing and riding forward a bit as the Gem Eye descended. Grok'nar and Kezzek stayed back a ways with Harold.
"At least I'll never get bored traveling with you," Grok'nar said, squinting at the Gem Eye. "No shortage of strange and interesting things seem to seek you out."
Harold grunted.
The Gem Eye stopped ten feet away from Suniel and studied him for a long moment as they did the same.
Finally, it 'spoke' in a tinny-voice nearly identical to the last one's. "Sherguz werkal?"
The half-orc and the hobgoblin glanced at Harold. He rolled his eyes and said, "Now we get to start all over. Told you so."
Suniel raised his hand in a sign of peace. "Hail," he said in Common. "If you will speak with me, I have questions..."
Neergrog snarled at Shro'kar and hefted his greataxe menacingly. "You must be stupid if you think I'll believe it was only two humans that destroyed the raft camp. Either that or you think I'm stupid. Neither is a very healthy way for you to be," Neergrog said.
Shro'kar was unfazed. "I didn't say there were only two, just that only two survived. We dug up the bodies of two others - a dwarf and a human woman - but didn't find any others. And if you were really going to try to do something 'unhealthy' to me, you wouldn't be paying me so much."
There was some noise from the passageway leading to the outpost's entrance and Neergrog glared in that direction at the disturbance. His eyes bulged. "You! I thought you were dead!"
Grok'nar stood with a chained figure in tow at the junction where the entrance passageway intercepted the passageways leading east to the barracks, north to Neergrog's audience chamber, and west to the rest of the outpost. "I brought a mighty gift to appease you, great Neergrog. I only hope that I might buy your mercy and appease you with a gift."
Neergrog was on his feet, already seeing red. He forced himself to calm slightly and looked over Grok'nar's prisoner. "He doesn't look like anything to me. Explain quickly and well or I'll make sure you die this time."
Grok'nor bowed - the hilt of a greatsword of human make jutting from his shoulder - and gestured to the human who stood, chin thrust out proudly, cooly appraising Neergrog. "This is the one that destroyed the raft camp."
"What?" Neergrog shouted, hefting his axe. "This one? This one alone?"
"He's lying - no lone human could do such a thing," Firon the Advisor said, walking closer to Neergrog's throne. Shro'kar and Dalak moved to flank Neergrog, readying their own weapons.
Grok'nar shrugged. "There were others - two died there and I dealt with the other this morning before I came here."
Hearing the numbers Shro'kar had just told him from another mouth cemented it for him and his vision tunneled on the arrogant human. He let out a roar and charged.
Suddenly, the human's chains were free, a greatsword in his hands. A split-second later two other figures suddenly appeared as well: an elf, already chanting and gesturing towards Neergrog and his entourage, and a huge half-orc with a wicked looking double-blade, stepping up next to Grok'nar and the human.
A bead of fire whizzed past Neergrog's head as he charged and a detonation of heat and flame washed over him from behind. He stumbled briefly, but the pain was washed away in a red wall of rage as he clashed with Grok'nar and his prisoner, Shro'kar and Dalak close behind him.
They slammed into the enemy and Neergrog bellowed for reinforcements. He brought his knee into Grok'nar's chest and shoved him back, distantly felt a slash tear into his shoulder, turned, and swept the human's feet out from under him. The human rolled away before Neergrog could follow up, leaping to his feet and turning to face the reinforcements that closed on the infiltrators from all sides. The elf chanted something else and the barracks tunnel was suddenly enveloped in a chill white cloud, radiating cold so strongly Neergrog could feel it from thirty feet away.
Dalak went down to the blades of the half-orc - a Greywarden some distant, logical part of his mind realized - while the human turned to slaughter the hobgoblins that stumbled, frostbitten and shivering uncontrollably, out of the white fog. Grok'nar planted a iron-shod boot in Neergrog's chest and sent him stumbling back.
Neergrog countered with a blow that split Grok'nar's shield in half, crunched into his arm, and slammed him into the wall, his sword flying from his hand. Neergrog roared triumphantly and lunged forward to finish the traitor off and was jerked to a halt.
He looked down, confused, and saw that Grok'nar had somehow gotten ahold of Dalak's sword. A foot of it was buried in Neergrog's chest. He roared again and swung his axe at Grok'nar's head, but the traitor sidestepped it almost casually and slid the blade in to the hilt, staring pitilessly into Neergrog's eyes as he did so.
Then Grok'nar shoved him away and he staggered back. Neergrog glanced down at the blade in his chest, snarled at the now unarmed and unmoving Grok'nar, and raised his axe to take the traitor with him.
Something slammed into Neergrog from the side and sent him sprawling. He looked up in time to see the human step over him, grim-eyed, sword and armor splattered with blood, his eyes pale and pitiless as Grok'nar's.
***
Neergrog's remaining bodyguard wisely dropped his sword the moment Neergrog was dead, raising his hands and backing away from Kezzek. Kezzek growled, kicked the hobgoblin's sword away, glanced around. The remaining hobgoblins followed suit, dropping weapons and quickly distancing themselves.
"Who is in charge here now?" Kezzek said, wandering towards the blackened and smoldering audience chamber.
The bodyguard pointed towards a charred form lying beside the throne. "Firon gave the orders when Neergrog was away. Looks like he's not up for much now, so I suppose I'm the chieftain," he said in rough Common.
Grok'nar walked over to the self-proclaimed chieftain and looked him over. "You're not from here, I don't recognize you."
"Shro'kar, mercenary from the Furnace Tribe."
"Furnace Tribe? I thought the High King wiped them out for refusing to go to war with the Mountain Clans," Grok'nar said.
"Wiped out is an exaggeration, but only just. Those of us who weren't captured and used as orc-fodder scattered. This seemed as good a place as any." He pointed at Neergrog's body. "He was a paranoid butcher with delusions of power, but he paid well and wasn't about to risk himself - and thus myself - in an actual attack on Northmand."
"I imagine you have little love for the High King," Suniel said, looking up from where he sat wrapping a bandage around a wound on his arm.
"Slight understatement." Shro'kar snorted. "The High King wiped out my Tribe for trying to give him tactical advice on the inadvisability of a three-front war. He can have his Iron Ring thugs, march them off into the Cracks or the Mist Tops to prove his dominance."
Harold exchanged glances with Suniel and Kezzek. Kezzek growled in thought as Harold walked over to whisper in his ear. "Sounds like this might be a good one to leave in charge here. If he agrees to halt the attacks on Northmand's mining operations and villages, we agree to leave him in charge..."
Kezzek turned to Grok'nar. "Is he chieftain by law?"
Grok'nar gave a lopsided grin. "The old chieftain is dead. Shro'kar here was the first to make claim, so he's chieftain unless someone else can kill him and make a new claim."
Kezzek nodded and turned to Harold. "It seems legal by the local customs." He walked over to Neergrog's body, picked up the old chieftain's axe, and tossed it to Shro'kar. The mercenary caught it deftly and quirked an eyebrow at Kezzek.
"Chief Shro'kar, I understand your people have been illegally raiding human settlements lately. With your cooperation, might I suggest the following for restitution..."
***
Suniel waved to Harold again, finally catching the archer's eye. Harold waited for everyone else to catch up.
"We need to stop," Suniel said. "Our escorts aren't taking the heat very well and, to be honest, I'm not either."
Harold looked at the half-dozen hobgoblins Shro'kar had sent to escort them out of hobgoblin lands as a show of good faith. Their honor guard were sagging in their saddles, looking on the verge of collapse. Grok'nar and the Greywarden rode up to them, Kezzek polishing his Greywarden gauntlet.
"Why we stopping?" Kezzek said.
Harold nodded to the hobgoblins. "I think we might need to travel at night. Otherwise we might end up carrying our escorts home."
Kezzek glanced at them and shrugged. "Works for me. Would probably help their horses too if ours took the restitution money now instead of at the border. Their mounts are much smaller breeds."
"I still don't see why we didn't just take everything. They probably got it all from raids on Northmand anyway," Harold said, glancing at the hobgoblin's bulging saddlebags.
"We don't need to go over that again," Suniel said. "It took us hours to get it all sorted out in the first place. Let's just rest here until tonight and head onwards tonight."
"Well..." Harold began, but Kezzek dismounted and motioned for the hobgoblins to do likewise. They looked up wearily, Grok'nar explained to them, and they almost fell off their horses in their haste to find the nearest shade.
***
Harold had chafed at the slow pace they were forced to take with their escorts along and was glad to be back in Northmand territory. The mission had gone off nearly without a hitch and the ambassador would be pleased.
We need Northmand, anything we can do to sway them to our side, he thought. Any ally against the Ashen Tower.
His mind fell to rehearsing how to best present this, to maximize the Crystal Tower's accomplishments on this journey in the telling of it.
He was lost in thought when Kezzek rode up to him, staring skywards. "Any idea what that is?"
Harold's eyes shot to the sky, scanning the area in the clear blue where Kezzek pointed. A moment later he saw it, still a black spec, but closing quickly. He groaned. "Why now?"
Suniel joined them, hand shielding his eyes against the sun. "Maybe if we talk to it this time, we can figure out what it is and why it wants Ming's amulet," the elf said, with a pointed glance in Harold's direction.
Harold sighed and reined in his horse. "All right, question it all you want. Nothing useful will come of it, I'd almost wager on it."
"Well, if you destroy this one too, we'll never know, will we?" Suniel said, waving to the thing and riding forward a bit as the Gem Eye descended. Grok'nar and Kezzek stayed back a ways with Harold.
"At least I'll never get bored traveling with you," Grok'nar said, squinting at the Gem Eye. "No shortage of strange and interesting things seem to seek you out."
Harold grunted.
The Gem Eye stopped ten feet away from Suniel and studied him for a long moment as they did the same.
Finally, it 'spoke' in a tinny-voice nearly identical to the last one's. "Sherguz werkal?"
The half-orc and the hobgoblin glanced at Harold. He rolled his eyes and said, "Now we get to start all over. Told you so."
Suniel raised his hand in a sign of peace. "Hail," he said in Common. "If you will speak with me, I have questions..."
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Answer
I'll answer this one. At this point in the campaign, we didn't have the resources to get anyone resurrected. In our groups games when we are at lower levels the characters that die get discarded and a new characters are rolled. At higher levels when we can afford it, we get our resurrections as needed.
I'll answer this one. At this point in the campaign, we didn't have the resources to get anyone resurrected. In our groups games when we are at lower levels the characters that die get discarded and a new characters are rolled. At higher levels when we can afford it, we get our resurrections as needed.
Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 7 Crunch
-Note: No posts until today since this is the first day I've been able to get enworld to load since Saturday.-
I actually went into session 8 a bit on the last one because I had poorly marked on my notes where session 7 ended and 8 started. Session 7 ended with them dividing up the hobgoblin's "restitution."
Not too much crunch on this one. I remember the plan going pretty much flawlessly, with the help of Suniel reaching level 5 and getting some serious firepower boosts, Grok'nar's previous knowledge of the outpost's layout, and just a solid plan.
I don't remember it's name, but the Grave Mist spell from the PHB II nailed down the reinforcements from the barracks and any who actually made it through were barely alive. Suniel's initial fireball vaporized Neergrog's 6th level sorcerer pretty much instantly. The bodyguards and Neergrog could dish out some pretty big hits, but they went down so fast it wasn't really an issue.
After the fight was over, they kept on waiting for "the other shoe to drop" so to speak, since they aren't used to anything ever being easy in my games. They kept on expecting a huge wave of reinforcements to show up, cracking jokes about it as they dealt with the aftermath and were genuinely surprised when they never came. Just to be sure, they all locked themselves in Neergrog's sleeping chambers with someone on watch for the night.
The summer heat got to the party on the way back (non-rangers getting beaten down on Fort Saves) so they took to travelling at night.
Mad Lib time! Note: spoilers are actually spoilers, view at your own risk!
On to Session 8, featuring an eye-opening conversation with a
, interesting encounters with
, little known facts about
,
shenanigans, and even a showdown with
!
-Note: No posts until today since this is the first day I've been able to get enworld to load since Saturday.-
I actually went into session 8 a bit on the last one because I had poorly marked on my notes where session 7 ended and 8 started. Session 7 ended with them dividing up the hobgoblin's "restitution."
Not too much crunch on this one. I remember the plan going pretty much flawlessly, with the help of Suniel reaching level 5 and getting some serious firepower boosts, Grok'nar's previous knowledge of the outpost's layout, and just a solid plan.
I don't remember it's name, but the Grave Mist spell from the PHB II nailed down the reinforcements from the barracks and any who actually made it through were barely alive. Suniel's initial fireball vaporized Neergrog's 6th level sorcerer pretty much instantly. The bodyguards and Neergrog could dish out some pretty big hits, but they went down so fast it wasn't really an issue.
After the fight was over, they kept on waiting for "the other shoe to drop" so to speak, since they aren't used to anything ever being easy in my games. They kept on expecting a huge wave of reinforcements to show up, cracking jokes about it as they dealt with the aftermath and were genuinely surprised when they never came. Just to be sure, they all locked themselves in Neergrog's sleeping chambers with someone on watch for the night.
The summer heat got to the party on the way back (non-rangers getting beaten down on Fort Saves) so they took to travelling at night.
Mad Lib time! Note: spoilers are actually spoilers, view at your own risk!
On to Session 8, featuring an eye-opening conversation with a
metal orb
metallic statuary
Felskein
goblin
superman assassins
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Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 8, Part 1
"Give amulet! Iron Sky demands!" the Gem Eye repeated, gesticulating in what it probably thought was a threatening manner with its tiny pincer.
"The amulet belongs to Iron Sky?" Suniel said, moving his hand to where Ming's amulet rested under his robe. "The one I mentioned belonged to a companion of ours, a warrior woman."
"The amulet is Iron Sky's. We demand it. Demand!"
"How do you know the amulet belongs to Iron Sky?" Harold said.
"They are ours, give them to us!"
"Them? We haven't even said we have any yet, we just said we might know of one," Suniel said, debating whether or not to show the amulet to the Gem Eye. It seemed pretty worked up already at just the mention of it.
"We know you have! Give us amulets!" the Gem Eye said, darting between and around the four companions, examining them from all directions.
"Amulets? Are there more than one?" Harold said, drawing a questioning glance from Suniel.
The Gem Eye immediately flew over to him. "They are ours. Amulets are Iron Sky's. Give us now!"
"Pretty big threats from such a little thing. Apparently it doesn't know the fate of the last one," Grok'nar said. He made a fist, whistled as he jabbed a finger into it, then dropped the fist open and made a clanging noise. Kezzek growled, rubbing one of his tusks as he squinted at the Gem Eye.
Suniel sighed and pulled out Ming's amulet. "Does the amulet look like this?"
The Gem Eye was on him in a second, bobbing around him, pincer reaching towards the amulet. "Amulets are Iron Sky's. Give now!"
"Or what? You'll pinch us?" Grok'nar said, shaking his head as he dismounted and led his shaggy horse to the shade of a nearby outcropping. "It's way too hot for this."
The Gem Eye ignored him, its eye spinning as it stared at the hematite amulet that sat warm in Suneil's hand. "I don't know how Ming really came by it, so maybe it does belong to this Iron Sky," Suniel said.
Kezzek cleared his throat. "Well, she was a thief and murderer."
"That doesn't mean the amulets belong to this thing though," Harold said.
"Amulets?" Suniel said, quirking an eyebrow at Harold. The archer reached under his uniform and armor and pulled out another amulet, this one a piece of quartz with specks of light dancing inside it. It took a moment before Suniel recognized it.
"Ours! Give to Iron Sky!" the Gem Eye almost wailed, flitting over to Harold and grabbing the amulet's chain with its pincer. Harold stared the thing in the 'eye' with a surprised/bemused expression, calmly reached down, and broke the thing's pincer arm off with a twist.
"Give to us!" The Gem Eye said, pointing its broken wire-arm at the amulet.
"Getting threatened and ordered around by this piece of rusty scrap is getting old," Harold said, casting a weary look at Suniel and tossing the already disintegrating pincer away. His hand drifted towards the sword on his back.
Suniel raised his hand. "Hold Harold. Where did you get the amulet?"
Harold shrugged. "The monk-thing gave it to me before he wandered off."
"And you didn't tell us about it, why?"
"Didn't seem important."
Suniel met Harold's level expression for a long moment before he turned back to the Gem Eye. "Both of these amulets belong to Iron Sky?"
"Yes. Iron Sky demands!"
"How do you know they are Iron Sky's?"
"Iron Sky demands! Ours!"
"They were taken from you?"
"Demands!"
"You lost them?"
"Give to us!"
"What claim do you have on them?" Suniel said, even his elven patience wearing thin.
"Iron Sky demands them!"
"Are you saying they belong to you just because you say they do?"
"Give to Iron Sky. Iron Sky claims! Demands!" The thing's wire-arm came perilously close to jabbing Suniel in the eye as he dodged out of the way of the thing's agitated and increasingly erratic movements.
"What is Iron Sky?" Kezzek said, nudging his horse closer to the Gem Eye.
"Iron Sky demands the amulets! Iron Sky claims the Thousand Skylands! Give to us!"
"Thousand Skylands?" Kezzek, Harold, and Suniel said in unison.
For the first time since it had arrived the thing went still. Suniel could almost hear gears grinding inside its rusty casing. It looked between the three of them, gem-eye spinning slowly, then floated over to a rock. It tapped on it a few times, then drifted down to the dust and prodded a couple holes.
"I think it broke," Grok'nar said from where he reclined in the shade with a wineskin. "Couple gears came loose somewhere in there."
Suniel dismounted and walked over to it, curiosity inflamed, Harold and Kezzek not far behind.
Finally, the Gem Eye turned to Suniel.
"What place is this?" it said, it's tinny voice as quiet as Suniel had ever heard it.
Harold shook his head. "This is a waste of time, we should get going."
"This is the Ragged Hills, near the edge of Northmand," Suniel said, ignoring the archer.
The Gem Eye floated quietly for another long moment. "No, what place is this?" It gestured in a broad arc.
"We just told it!" Harold said. "I think the hobgoblin is right, this thing is damaged."
Suniel ignored Harold, trying to make sense of what the thing was asking. "This place is the Ragged Hills. Nearby is Northmand and Mirror Lake. The Mist Tops are the mountains across Mirror Lake. South of Northmand is the Greenpath River that winds between Gnarlbend Forest and the Stoop Oaks until it reaches the Crystal Deep-"
"No no! What place is this?" It flew up and spun in a circle, wire-arm waving as if to encompass the whole world.
The whole world? Suniel thought, or just all of.... Suddenly it came to him.
"Felskein?"
The thing flew to Suniel, gem-eye spinning an inch from his face. "This is Felskein? Tell meee!"
Suniel nodded, confused. "This is Felskein. Where else would it be? What else is there?"
"Felskein! This is Felskein! Found Felskein!" the Gem Eye shot up and down, wire-arm flitting about. If Suniel didn't know any better he'd think it was dancing.
"All right, that proves it, this thing needs to be put out of our misery," Harold said, pulling his bow out of his quiver.
"Felskeiiiiiiin!" the Gem Eye practically shrieked, shooting up into the sky at an amazing speed. Several hundred feet up, it suddenly stopped and shot back down towards them again.
It floated over to Suniel and extended its wire-arm. "Amulet?" it said, sounding almost hopeful.
Suniel shook his head. "It doesn't belong to you simply because you say so. I think you have no more claim to it than we do."
The its gem-eye turned slowly as it regarded him. Then it turned, drifted towards Harold for a moment, seemed to think better of approaching the now-armed archer, and stopped.
It was still for another long moment, then, without warning shot up into the air again. "Found Felskeiiiiiin!"
"Well, that was... different." Grok'nar said, now chewing on some hardtack. Kezzek grunted and joined Grok'nar in the shade, taking an offered biscuit from the hobgoblin.
Harold and Suniel continued to stare at the thing as it shrunk to a black speck and then disappeared entirely. Suniel was just about to look away when he saw it appear again.
No, there's two now, he thought, squinting and shading his eyes. Except they're moving different. Like they're bigger maybe. It almost looks like...
He realized what he was looking at with a start and shot a glance at Harold, the archer's expression telling Suniel that he'd come to the same conclusion.
Suniel chanted a word of warding as Harold drew an arrow and shouted to the others. "They come from the skies, prepare for battle!"
"Give amulet! Iron Sky demands!" the Gem Eye repeated, gesticulating in what it probably thought was a threatening manner with its tiny pincer.
"The amulet belongs to Iron Sky?" Suniel said, moving his hand to where Ming's amulet rested under his robe. "The one I mentioned belonged to a companion of ours, a warrior woman."
"The amulet is Iron Sky's. We demand it. Demand!"
"How do you know the amulet belongs to Iron Sky?" Harold said.
"They are ours, give them to us!"
"Them? We haven't even said we have any yet, we just said we might know of one," Suniel said, debating whether or not to show the amulet to the Gem Eye. It seemed pretty worked up already at just the mention of it.
"We know you have! Give us amulets!" the Gem Eye said, darting between and around the four companions, examining them from all directions.
"Amulets? Are there more than one?" Harold said, drawing a questioning glance from Suniel.
The Gem Eye immediately flew over to him. "They are ours. Amulets are Iron Sky's. Give us now!"
"Pretty big threats from such a little thing. Apparently it doesn't know the fate of the last one," Grok'nar said. He made a fist, whistled as he jabbed a finger into it, then dropped the fist open and made a clanging noise. Kezzek growled, rubbing one of his tusks as he squinted at the Gem Eye.
Suniel sighed and pulled out Ming's amulet. "Does the amulet look like this?"
The Gem Eye was on him in a second, bobbing around him, pincer reaching towards the amulet. "Amulets are Iron Sky's. Give now!"
"Or what? You'll pinch us?" Grok'nar said, shaking his head as he dismounted and led his shaggy horse to the shade of a nearby outcropping. "It's way too hot for this."
The Gem Eye ignored him, its eye spinning as it stared at the hematite amulet that sat warm in Suneil's hand. "I don't know how Ming really came by it, so maybe it does belong to this Iron Sky," Suniel said.
Kezzek cleared his throat. "Well, she was a thief and murderer."
"That doesn't mean the amulets belong to this thing though," Harold said.
"Amulets?" Suniel said, quirking an eyebrow at Harold. The archer reached under his uniform and armor and pulled out another amulet, this one a piece of quartz with specks of light dancing inside it. It took a moment before Suniel recognized it.
"Ours! Give to Iron Sky!" the Gem Eye almost wailed, flitting over to Harold and grabbing the amulet's chain with its pincer. Harold stared the thing in the 'eye' with a surprised/bemused expression, calmly reached down, and broke the thing's pincer arm off with a twist.
"Give to us!" The Gem Eye said, pointing its broken wire-arm at the amulet.
"Getting threatened and ordered around by this piece of rusty scrap is getting old," Harold said, casting a weary look at Suniel and tossing the already disintegrating pincer away. His hand drifted towards the sword on his back.
Suniel raised his hand. "Hold Harold. Where did you get the amulet?"
Harold shrugged. "The monk-thing gave it to me before he wandered off."
"And you didn't tell us about it, why?"
"Didn't seem important."
Suniel met Harold's level expression for a long moment before he turned back to the Gem Eye. "Both of these amulets belong to Iron Sky?"
"Yes. Iron Sky demands!"
"How do you know they are Iron Sky's?"
"Iron Sky demands! Ours!"
"They were taken from you?"
"Demands!"
"You lost them?"
"Give to us!"
"What claim do you have on them?" Suniel said, even his elven patience wearing thin.
"Iron Sky demands them!"
"Are you saying they belong to you just because you say they do?"
"Give to Iron Sky. Iron Sky claims! Demands!" The thing's wire-arm came perilously close to jabbing Suniel in the eye as he dodged out of the way of the thing's agitated and increasingly erratic movements.
"What is Iron Sky?" Kezzek said, nudging his horse closer to the Gem Eye.
"Iron Sky demands the amulets! Iron Sky claims the Thousand Skylands! Give to us!"
"Thousand Skylands?" Kezzek, Harold, and Suniel said in unison.
For the first time since it had arrived the thing went still. Suniel could almost hear gears grinding inside its rusty casing. It looked between the three of them, gem-eye spinning slowly, then floated over to a rock. It tapped on it a few times, then drifted down to the dust and prodded a couple holes.
"I think it broke," Grok'nar said from where he reclined in the shade with a wineskin. "Couple gears came loose somewhere in there."
Suniel dismounted and walked over to it, curiosity inflamed, Harold and Kezzek not far behind.
Finally, the Gem Eye turned to Suniel.
"What place is this?" it said, it's tinny voice as quiet as Suniel had ever heard it.
Harold shook his head. "This is a waste of time, we should get going."
"This is the Ragged Hills, near the edge of Northmand," Suniel said, ignoring the archer.
The Gem Eye floated quietly for another long moment. "No, what place is this?" It gestured in a broad arc.
"We just told it!" Harold said. "I think the hobgoblin is right, this thing is damaged."
Suniel ignored Harold, trying to make sense of what the thing was asking. "This place is the Ragged Hills. Nearby is Northmand and Mirror Lake. The Mist Tops are the mountains across Mirror Lake. South of Northmand is the Greenpath River that winds between Gnarlbend Forest and the Stoop Oaks until it reaches the Crystal Deep-"
"No no! What place is this?" It flew up and spun in a circle, wire-arm waving as if to encompass the whole world.
The whole world? Suniel thought, or just all of.... Suddenly it came to him.
"Felskein?"
The thing flew to Suniel, gem-eye spinning an inch from his face. "This is Felskein? Tell meee!"
Suniel nodded, confused. "This is Felskein. Where else would it be? What else is there?"
"Felskein! This is Felskein! Found Felskein!" the Gem Eye shot up and down, wire-arm flitting about. If Suniel didn't know any better he'd think it was dancing.
"All right, that proves it, this thing needs to be put out of our misery," Harold said, pulling his bow out of his quiver.
"Felskeiiiiiiin!" the Gem Eye practically shrieked, shooting up into the sky at an amazing speed. Several hundred feet up, it suddenly stopped and shot back down towards them again.
It floated over to Suniel and extended its wire-arm. "Amulet?" it said, sounding almost hopeful.
Suniel shook his head. "It doesn't belong to you simply because you say so. I think you have no more claim to it than we do."
The its gem-eye turned slowly as it regarded him. Then it turned, drifted towards Harold for a moment, seemed to think better of approaching the now-armed archer, and stopped.
It was still for another long moment, then, without warning shot up into the air again. "Found Felskeiiiiiin!"
"Well, that was... different." Grok'nar said, now chewing on some hardtack. Kezzek grunted and joined Grok'nar in the shade, taking an offered biscuit from the hobgoblin.
Harold and Suniel continued to stare at the thing as it shrunk to a black speck and then disappeared entirely. Suniel was just about to look away when he saw it appear again.
No, there's two now, he thought, squinting and shading his eyes. Except they're moving different. Like they're bigger maybe. It almost looks like...
He realized what he was looking at with a start and shot a glance at Harold, the archer's expression telling Suniel that he'd come to the same conclusion.
Suniel chanted a word of warding as Harold drew an arrow and shouted to the others. "They come from the skies, prepare for battle!"
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Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 8, Part 2
As Grok'nar and Kezzek leapt to their feet and drew their weapons, Harold stared up at the rapidly descending forms, the flap and crack of their robes in the wind now audible. He took a few shots at them as they plummeted, not expecting much effect due to his target's extreme speed and distance, and spoke to Suniel without looking at him. "That new spell you pulled out when we were fighting Neergrog, the fire one, how far away can you-"
Suniel - who had been simply watching the constructs descended - suddenly shouted a short phrase and flicked his wrist. One of the iron giants disappeared in a detonation of flame.
A split second later it appeared out of the bottom of the aerial blast in a rain of rapidly disintegrating metal fragments and drifting bits of smoldering cloth. It was still intact, though its whole surface glowed a dull red.
"What are we fighting?" Kezzek said. "And why?"
Harold spared him a glance. Kezzek stood with a quiver and a strange metallic bow that bore a striking resemblance to his quor'rel or whatever he called it - but he wasn't firing. Grok'nar stood beside him, still chewing on hard tack as he watched the things descend.
"Start firing, there's no time to explain!" Harold shouted back, sending an arrow flying through a patch of red-hot metal on the one Suniel had hit. The construct's eyes started to glow. "They're hostile!"
"So far you seem to be the hostile ones, I haven't seen any-" Kezzek started. Then he disappeared in an explosion of energy as one of the thing's eye-lances connected.
The plummeting figures' free fall came to a sudden and seemingly impossible stop about 20' off the ground. Eight smaller figures dropped from the robe of the one that hadn't been in Suniel's blast, blade arms outstretched as they landed kneeling, eyes flaring with light.
***
Kezzek charged past Grok'nar with a roar, quor'rel in hand, still smoldering and blackened from the blast. Grok'nar bit off a final bite of the hardtack, wishing he had time to grab his wineskin and wash it down. He sighed and ran after Kezzek.
A hail of energy lances shot around him, one striking his raised shield and staggering him with the shock of its impact. Then the small, black-swathed figures were all around them.
One leapt high into the air and descended with its blade outstretched. He knocked it out of the air with his shield, jarred by how heavy the thing was despite its size, and spun to parry the blade of another one, jerking his head to the side just in time as its eyes flared and a beam of energy flew past his ear. He swung his sword and landed a solid blow on the thing's neck, almost dislocating his shoulder with the force of the impact. Felt like it's wearing plate mail... under the cloth? While leaping like that? What are these things?
There was no time to ponder his questions further as the one he had knocked to the ground earlier slammed into his back sent him rolling in the dirt, another explosion rattling his armor.
***
Suniel blew the one charging at him apart just before it reached him and leapt away as it exploded in a shower of metal. As he pulled himself to his feet, there was a crackling boom as Harold finished off the still-glowing bigger one. The other flew after Harold as the archer rode into the hills. Two of the smaller ones pursued as well, leaping from rock to rock and bounding with surprising speed.
A blast struck Suniel full in the chest, sending him flying back. The magic runes of his warding spell glowed brightly as he stood, trailing wisps of smoke, and unleashed a blast of energy against his new, rapidly approaching assailant.
***
Harold ducked and swung his horse to the side as one leapt off a boulder and hurled itself at him, its blade passing inches from his head. He put two arrows into it while it was still in the air. It hit a boulder hard and exploded.
His horse reared as the other was suddenly in front of him. He jerked the reins to the side and nocked another arrow as his horse flew down another gully. The little one bounded after them, throwing another bolt of energy, but Harold - even while aiming at the little one and dodging its blasts - had half-an-eye to the sky, wondering where the big one had disappeared to...
***
Kezzek smashed his gauntlet into the thing's 'face,' feeling metal crumple satisfyingly. He kicked the thing backwards and buried a blade into its chest with a roar. The gout of blood that his orc side hungered for never came. Instead, he felt a jolt run up his blade and the thing blew apart. He managed to turn his face away, but shards of metal tore into his body. Stunned, he dropped to one knee.
He turned in a daze to see Grok'nar decapitate one that's head was already askew. Kezzek was about to shout a warning, but the second the thing's head was off its shoulders, Grok'nar stepped back and braced himself, turning his body so his shield took the worst of the blast. Grok'nar winked to him, strode over, pulled Kezzek to his feet, and they turned to finish off the last few.
***
"You two ok?" Suniel said, walking through the char and scar of the battlefield.
Kezzek grunted as he pulled another metal sliver from his arm, watching it disintegrate to dust as he held it. "Probably a good thing they don't do that while they're in you," Kezzek mumbled.
Grok'nar was wandering about, eyes cast down as he searched the ground intently. Suniel was about to ask what he was looking for when Grok'nar said, "Ahah!" He picked his wineskin up from the dirt, brushed it off, and took a deep drought.
"Hardtack," he said by way of explanation.
"Where is Harold?" Suniel said, eyes scanning the hills the archer and his pursuers had disappeared into. He thought he might have heard distant, muffled explosions. "He had three after him."
Grok'nar shrugged. "I'm sure he's-" Grok'nar paused as a boom echoed through the hills, followed by silence. "-well, there you go. As long as he wasn't dumb enough to be hugging the thing when he killed it..."
Not long after, Harold came riding into view. The satisfaction Suniel often saw in Harold's bearing after battle wasn't there, instead his look was questioning... disquieted? as he met Suniel's eyes.
"Are you all right?" Suniel said.
"Unscathed. I found something though and I'm not sure what to make of it." Harold said, glancing back into the hills. "I think you better come have a look."
"What? What is it?" Suniel said.
"I'm not sure. As I said, you should come have a look."
Grok'nar quirked an eyebrow and Kezzek grunted, but a moment later they were all riding after Harold, back into the hills.
None of them noticed the tiny speck that had hovered high above through the course of the fight and only now disappeared into the vast sky.
As Grok'nar and Kezzek leapt to their feet and drew their weapons, Harold stared up at the rapidly descending forms, the flap and crack of their robes in the wind now audible. He took a few shots at them as they plummeted, not expecting much effect due to his target's extreme speed and distance, and spoke to Suniel without looking at him. "That new spell you pulled out when we were fighting Neergrog, the fire one, how far away can you-"
Suniel - who had been simply watching the constructs descended - suddenly shouted a short phrase and flicked his wrist. One of the iron giants disappeared in a detonation of flame.
A split second later it appeared out of the bottom of the aerial blast in a rain of rapidly disintegrating metal fragments and drifting bits of smoldering cloth. It was still intact, though its whole surface glowed a dull red.
"What are we fighting?" Kezzek said. "And why?"
Harold spared him a glance. Kezzek stood with a quiver and a strange metallic bow that bore a striking resemblance to his quor'rel or whatever he called it - but he wasn't firing. Grok'nar stood beside him, still chewing on hard tack as he watched the things descend.
"Start firing, there's no time to explain!" Harold shouted back, sending an arrow flying through a patch of red-hot metal on the one Suniel had hit. The construct's eyes started to glow. "They're hostile!"
"So far you seem to be the hostile ones, I haven't seen any-" Kezzek started. Then he disappeared in an explosion of energy as one of the thing's eye-lances connected.
The plummeting figures' free fall came to a sudden and seemingly impossible stop about 20' off the ground. Eight smaller figures dropped from the robe of the one that hadn't been in Suniel's blast, blade arms outstretched as they landed kneeling, eyes flaring with light.
***
Kezzek charged past Grok'nar with a roar, quor'rel in hand, still smoldering and blackened from the blast. Grok'nar bit off a final bite of the hardtack, wishing he had time to grab his wineskin and wash it down. He sighed and ran after Kezzek.
A hail of energy lances shot around him, one striking his raised shield and staggering him with the shock of its impact. Then the small, black-swathed figures were all around them.
One leapt high into the air and descended with its blade outstretched. He knocked it out of the air with his shield, jarred by how heavy the thing was despite its size, and spun to parry the blade of another one, jerking his head to the side just in time as its eyes flared and a beam of energy flew past his ear. He swung his sword and landed a solid blow on the thing's neck, almost dislocating his shoulder with the force of the impact. Felt like it's wearing plate mail... under the cloth? While leaping like that? What are these things?
There was no time to ponder his questions further as the one he had knocked to the ground earlier slammed into his back sent him rolling in the dirt, another explosion rattling his armor.
***
Suniel blew the one charging at him apart just before it reached him and leapt away as it exploded in a shower of metal. As he pulled himself to his feet, there was a crackling boom as Harold finished off the still-glowing bigger one. The other flew after Harold as the archer rode into the hills. Two of the smaller ones pursued as well, leaping from rock to rock and bounding with surprising speed.
A blast struck Suniel full in the chest, sending him flying back. The magic runes of his warding spell glowed brightly as he stood, trailing wisps of smoke, and unleashed a blast of energy against his new, rapidly approaching assailant.
***
Harold ducked and swung his horse to the side as one leapt off a boulder and hurled itself at him, its blade passing inches from his head. He put two arrows into it while it was still in the air. It hit a boulder hard and exploded.
His horse reared as the other was suddenly in front of him. He jerked the reins to the side and nocked another arrow as his horse flew down another gully. The little one bounded after them, throwing another bolt of energy, but Harold - even while aiming at the little one and dodging its blasts - had half-an-eye to the sky, wondering where the big one had disappeared to...
***
Kezzek smashed his gauntlet into the thing's 'face,' feeling metal crumple satisfyingly. He kicked the thing backwards and buried a blade into its chest with a roar. The gout of blood that his orc side hungered for never came. Instead, he felt a jolt run up his blade and the thing blew apart. He managed to turn his face away, but shards of metal tore into his body. Stunned, he dropped to one knee.
He turned in a daze to see Grok'nar decapitate one that's head was already askew. Kezzek was about to shout a warning, but the second the thing's head was off its shoulders, Grok'nar stepped back and braced himself, turning his body so his shield took the worst of the blast. Grok'nar winked to him, strode over, pulled Kezzek to his feet, and they turned to finish off the last few.
***
"You two ok?" Suniel said, walking through the char and scar of the battlefield.
Kezzek grunted as he pulled another metal sliver from his arm, watching it disintegrate to dust as he held it. "Probably a good thing they don't do that while they're in you," Kezzek mumbled.
Grok'nar was wandering about, eyes cast down as he searched the ground intently. Suniel was about to ask what he was looking for when Grok'nar said, "Ahah!" He picked his wineskin up from the dirt, brushed it off, and took a deep drought.
"Hardtack," he said by way of explanation.
"Where is Harold?" Suniel said, eyes scanning the hills the archer and his pursuers had disappeared into. He thought he might have heard distant, muffled explosions. "He had three after him."
Grok'nar shrugged. "I'm sure he's-" Grok'nar paused as a boom echoed through the hills, followed by silence. "-well, there you go. As long as he wasn't dumb enough to be hugging the thing when he killed it..."
Not long after, Harold came riding into view. The satisfaction Suniel often saw in Harold's bearing after battle wasn't there, instead his look was questioning... disquieted? as he met Suniel's eyes.
"Are you all right?" Suniel said.
"Unscathed. I found something though and I'm not sure what to make of it." Harold said, glancing back into the hills. "I think you better come have a look."
"What? What is it?" Suniel said.
"I'm not sure. As I said, you should come have a look."
Grok'nar quirked an eyebrow and Kezzek grunted, but a moment later they were all riding after Harold, back into the hills.
None of them noticed the tiny speck that had hovered high above through the course of the fight and only now disappeared into the vast sky.
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Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 8, Part 3
-Late post due post-move lack of internets-
"It doesn't look much like the others," Grok'nar said, prodding the finely carved iron statue with his foot. "Looks like the iron or whatever on this one is naturaly brown, not rusty like the others."
"Mmm, much finer workmanship too. Far closer to human proportions than the others," Suniel said.
"I say we leave it," Harold said. "I don't trust anything that's related to these things."
Kezzek growled as he stared at the statue. "Any of you heard of the 'Thousand Skylands' that that orb mentioned? Skylands?"
There was a long silence as they looked at the statue and each other. "I'm taking it back to study it," Suniel finally said. "Maybe we can learn more about these things. Could be useful if they keep attacking us, if for no other reason."
"Whatever," Harold said, walking towards his horse. "As long as get going again. We've wasted enough time with these things. It's going to be noon tomorrow at the earliest that we get back to Laketide as it is."
Grok'nar shrugged. "Why the hurry? Not like they gave us a deadline for knifing Neergrog."
Harold mounted and cast a level look at the hobgoblin. "Every day we wait is another day the Ashen Tower's influence expands, spreading its darkness and corruption, another day that the Crystal Towers stands alone against it. Every day is-"
Grok'nar raised his hands and backed away. "All right, all right, I get it already. Sheesh."
Suniel led his horse to the statue and stared at it as he figured out how he was going to get it all the way to Laketide. Kezzek knelt, strained, and managed to roll the thing over. "What do you suppose these shallow indentations all over it are? Hands, forehead, head, neck, chest, waist, feet..." He growled and tugged at a tusk. "Almost like something should fit in them."
***
"It is done, Neergrog is dead and The Crystal Towers has installed a new chief who favors peace with Northmand," Harold said, barely waiting for Lieutenant Laris to sit down and pull out his quill.
Unfortunately, Grok'nar was lounging outside the door and came in to lean against the door frame. "Huh, I didn't see any towers - crystal or otherwise - around there. I thought it was the Greywarden that installed the new chief."
Harold ignored him, hoping he'd go away. "Anyway, the threat is vanquished and Northmand shouldn't be troubled by the hobgoblins for some time."
Grok'nar grunted. "Long enough for the High King to hear about it and send his Iron Ring thugs to kill Shro'kar and replace him with a new crony anyway."
"Don't you have anything better to do?" Harold said, turning to Grok'nar.
Grok'nar gave his lopsided grin back. "Nope, not really."
Harold sighed and turned back to Laris. The young Lieutenant paused his parchment scribbling and looked up. "How did you manage to eliminate Neergrog? Grok'nar had told us he rarely left his lair."
"We put together a plan that got us inside-"
"I put together a plan," Grok'nar said.
"-where we disabled most of the hobgoblins with magic-"
"Elven wizardly magic that is."
Harold glared at Grok'nar, who was busy chewing on a fingernail. "-and I killed Neergrog."
"That's true at least, though not until I'd already stabbed him a bit," Grok'nar said, staring at a hangnail.
"Well, no matter how you did it, you have Northmand's thanks, all of you," Laris said, folding the parchment on his desk, dribbling some wax on it, and stamping it. "Give this to Captain Donnolan in Northmand, he will see that the Council hears of it and rewards you appropriately."
"Reward?" Grok'nar said, glancing up from his fingernails.
"It was nothing," Harold said. "The Crystal Towers needs no recompense for the honor of helping her allies."
"I'll take the Crystal Towers' share if that's the case."
Continuing to ignore the hobgoblin, Harold said, "we also were attacked by some strange iron constructs."
"Iron constructs? In the Ragged Hills?" Laris said, eyebrows raising in surprise. "Have the Iron Tribes hired some artificers to craft them war machines now?"
Grok'nar snorted. "Not likely."
"So you've never run into them before?" Harold said. "We've run into them a couple times now."
Laris shook his head. "No, very odd. Be sure to mention it to the Captain while you're there. Sounds like something he should know about."
Harold nodded. "Is there anything else the Crystal Towers can do for you?"
"Well," Laris said and paused. "Nothing as heroic as assaulting another hobgoblin outpost, but there are some dispatches that you could take to Northmand with you when you go. Save one of my men a trip."
"Of course," Harold said, already trying to figure out how he could get some time alone with Captain Donnolan to tell of what happened without any... interruptions.
***
"12 gold pieces? How do three goblins spend 12 gold in a place like this in a week?" Suniel said, incredulous.
"More like one goblin in five days." Guntl winced. "And that's not the worst of it. There's a farmer named Terrik-"
"I know about that, I already paid him 5 gold in restitution for two dead dogs and some stolen chickens. When I find Stabber..."
"Good luck with that, he disappeared yesterday and haven't seen him since."
Suniel sighed. "Well, maybe its best that he wandered off. If his behavior continues like this every time I need to tend to something... Oh well, time to deal with that later. Help me get this statue into my carriage. I want to study it more carefully in private."
***
Suniel leaned back and rubbed his eyes in the candlelight, about to give up on trying to find anything in his tomes about Iron Sky and the statue they had left behind. Maybe it deactivated somehow when they were carrying it. Maybe it was one of them and it malfunctioned. Maybe Harold cobbled it together out of the remains of the ones he destroyed just to vex me.
He leaned to blow out the guttering candle, figuring he was done for the night, when he thought he saw something glint on a smooth, square spot on the thing's forehead. That almost looked like a rune for... Acting quickly on his hunch, he leaned over the statue and chanted, placing his finger on the center of the square as he finished uttering the last syllable.
The mage-rune for Life flared for a moment on it, then slowly faded. Suniel waited a moment to see if his intuition had proved correct. He had just about given up when the statue's eyes began to glow.
***
"I'm sorry I had to get you up in the middle of the night like this, but I... found some interesting things out regarding the statue," Suniel said, looking back and forth at the bleary-eyed and rumpled human, half-orc, and hobgoblin that stood outside his carriage. "Now, don't be alarmed, but..."
He turned to the carriage. "Keeper, come out."
Kezzek turned to the carriage wearily, noticing Harold's expression of annoyance and Grok'nar's of curiosity. Then the carriage door opened and the statue stepped out, eyes flaring.
Kezzek and the other two reached for weapons that they weren't wearing, cursing and stepping back.
Suniel stepped towards them, raising his arms palcatingly. "Wait, it's not going to attack. Hold!"
The iron statue nodded to them, eyes glowing and flickering. "I am called Keeper," it said in a deep, faintly metallic voice, its brown iron lips moving in a poor simulacrum of the movements of speech. "The Master has asked me to repeat what I have been able to glean from my fragile connection to the Nexus."
"The Master?" Grok'nar said.
Keeper turned to the hobgoblin. "That is correct. The Master brought me to life."
Harold glanced at Suniel. "And how did he do that?"
Suniel cut Keeper off before he could answer. "That's not important. Keeper, tell them what you can remember."
The statue nodded to him. "It is not memory, it is access to the Nexus. I am Keeper, designed to keep the Seeking Stones."
Harold's eyes shot to Suniel. "You didn't give this thing your amulet stone did you? You did, didn't you?"
"It's none of your concern, but I did," the wizard said, gesturing to Keeper again. "Just listen."
"I am a creation of Iron Sky, crafted somewhere among the seven of the Thousand Skylands that Iron Sky controls. Rumors say that thousands of years ago the Thousand Skylands and Felskein were together, but that Felskein suddenly disappeared. It is known as the Lost Continent and to the peoples of the Thousand Skylands it is little more than legend and myth." Keeper glanced at the dirt at his feet. "Except that I now stand upon it and converse with its peoples."
"What are these Thousand Skylands and this Iron Sky?" Kezzek said, moving to the side to examine the statue from another angle.
Keeper turned its head, odd, glowing eyes following him. "The Thousand Skylands are the Islands of the Sky, forever flying high above the Endless Sands. As for Iron Sky, all I can access from the Nexus is that it controls seven Skylands - and seeks to acquire more."
Grok'nar tapped on Keeper's chest. "Can you feel that?"
"Feel?" Keeper said, head cocking to the side as it regarded the hobgoblin.
"And what is the Nexus?" Kezzek said.
Keeper paused for a long moment. "I do not know."
Harold stared at it. "You don't know what the Nexus is is? You just said the Nexus was how you knew what you just told us!"
"My access to it is weak." Keeper tapped his forehead, on a smooth spot where an indentation had been earlier. "I draw in large part on the power of the Seeking Stones I contain. While Keeping only one stone and with... something out there that interferes with my access to the Nexus, there is much that I do not know, that I do not have the power to access."
"Well, you can't have mine, that's for damn sure," Harold said. He turned to Suniel. "How do you know you can trust this thing?"
Suniel glanced at the statue for a long moment. "I don't," he said softly. "I just have a feeling..."
"Why is Iron Sky even after these amulets? What's so special about them?" Harold said, turning on Keeper.
Keeper was silent for a long moment. "I do not know."
Harold threw his arms into the air and walked back towards the inn. "Wake me up when it has something useful to tell us."
Kezzek watched him go, then turned back. Grok'nar yawned, stretched, and patted the statue on the shoulder. "Night, statue thingy. I'm going to go enjoy my big comfortable pile of hay while I have it."
The hobgoblin disappeared into the stables and Kezzek turned to Suniel. "As interesting as this all is, unless this Keeper... remembers more information about these Iron Sky constructs' questionable activities, I'm not sure it's even worth reporting to the Greywarden Enclave. Let me know if any more information surfaces."
Suniel nodded. As Kezzek headed back to his room, the wizard and his strange new companion stood together in silence.
-Late post due post-move lack of internets-
"It doesn't look much like the others," Grok'nar said, prodding the finely carved iron statue with his foot. "Looks like the iron or whatever on this one is naturaly brown, not rusty like the others."
"Mmm, much finer workmanship too. Far closer to human proportions than the others," Suniel said.
"I say we leave it," Harold said. "I don't trust anything that's related to these things."
Kezzek growled as he stared at the statue. "Any of you heard of the 'Thousand Skylands' that that orb mentioned? Skylands?"
There was a long silence as they looked at the statue and each other. "I'm taking it back to study it," Suniel finally said. "Maybe we can learn more about these things. Could be useful if they keep attacking us, if for no other reason."
"Whatever," Harold said, walking towards his horse. "As long as get going again. We've wasted enough time with these things. It's going to be noon tomorrow at the earliest that we get back to Laketide as it is."
Grok'nar shrugged. "Why the hurry? Not like they gave us a deadline for knifing Neergrog."
Harold mounted and cast a level look at the hobgoblin. "Every day we wait is another day the Ashen Tower's influence expands, spreading its darkness and corruption, another day that the Crystal Towers stands alone against it. Every day is-"
Grok'nar raised his hands and backed away. "All right, all right, I get it already. Sheesh."
Suniel led his horse to the statue and stared at it as he figured out how he was going to get it all the way to Laketide. Kezzek knelt, strained, and managed to roll the thing over. "What do you suppose these shallow indentations all over it are? Hands, forehead, head, neck, chest, waist, feet..." He growled and tugged at a tusk. "Almost like something should fit in them."
***
"It is done, Neergrog is dead and The Crystal Towers has installed a new chief who favors peace with Northmand," Harold said, barely waiting for Lieutenant Laris to sit down and pull out his quill.
Unfortunately, Grok'nar was lounging outside the door and came in to lean against the door frame. "Huh, I didn't see any towers - crystal or otherwise - around there. I thought it was the Greywarden that installed the new chief."
Harold ignored him, hoping he'd go away. "Anyway, the threat is vanquished and Northmand shouldn't be troubled by the hobgoblins for some time."
Grok'nar grunted. "Long enough for the High King to hear about it and send his Iron Ring thugs to kill Shro'kar and replace him with a new crony anyway."
"Don't you have anything better to do?" Harold said, turning to Grok'nar.
Grok'nar gave his lopsided grin back. "Nope, not really."
Harold sighed and turned back to Laris. The young Lieutenant paused his parchment scribbling and looked up. "How did you manage to eliminate Neergrog? Grok'nar had told us he rarely left his lair."
"We put together a plan that got us inside-"
"I put together a plan," Grok'nar said.
"-where we disabled most of the hobgoblins with magic-"
"Elven wizardly magic that is."
Harold glared at Grok'nar, who was busy chewing on a fingernail. "-and I killed Neergrog."
"That's true at least, though not until I'd already stabbed him a bit," Grok'nar said, staring at a hangnail.
"Well, no matter how you did it, you have Northmand's thanks, all of you," Laris said, folding the parchment on his desk, dribbling some wax on it, and stamping it. "Give this to Captain Donnolan in Northmand, he will see that the Council hears of it and rewards you appropriately."
"Reward?" Grok'nar said, glancing up from his fingernails.
"It was nothing," Harold said. "The Crystal Towers needs no recompense for the honor of helping her allies."
"I'll take the Crystal Towers' share if that's the case."
Continuing to ignore the hobgoblin, Harold said, "we also were attacked by some strange iron constructs."
"Iron constructs? In the Ragged Hills?" Laris said, eyebrows raising in surprise. "Have the Iron Tribes hired some artificers to craft them war machines now?"
Grok'nar snorted. "Not likely."
"So you've never run into them before?" Harold said. "We've run into them a couple times now."
Laris shook his head. "No, very odd. Be sure to mention it to the Captain while you're there. Sounds like something he should know about."
Harold nodded. "Is there anything else the Crystal Towers can do for you?"
"Well," Laris said and paused. "Nothing as heroic as assaulting another hobgoblin outpost, but there are some dispatches that you could take to Northmand with you when you go. Save one of my men a trip."
"Of course," Harold said, already trying to figure out how he could get some time alone with Captain Donnolan to tell of what happened without any... interruptions.
***
"12 gold pieces? How do three goblins spend 12 gold in a place like this in a week?" Suniel said, incredulous.
"More like one goblin in five days." Guntl winced. "And that's not the worst of it. There's a farmer named Terrik-"
"I know about that, I already paid him 5 gold in restitution for two dead dogs and some stolen chickens. When I find Stabber..."
"Good luck with that, he disappeared yesterday and haven't seen him since."
Suniel sighed. "Well, maybe its best that he wandered off. If his behavior continues like this every time I need to tend to something... Oh well, time to deal with that later. Help me get this statue into my carriage. I want to study it more carefully in private."
***
Suniel leaned back and rubbed his eyes in the candlelight, about to give up on trying to find anything in his tomes about Iron Sky and the statue they had left behind. Maybe it deactivated somehow when they were carrying it. Maybe it was one of them and it malfunctioned. Maybe Harold cobbled it together out of the remains of the ones he destroyed just to vex me.
He leaned to blow out the guttering candle, figuring he was done for the night, when he thought he saw something glint on a smooth, square spot on the thing's forehead. That almost looked like a rune for... Acting quickly on his hunch, he leaned over the statue and chanted, placing his finger on the center of the square as he finished uttering the last syllable.
The mage-rune for Life flared for a moment on it, then slowly faded. Suniel waited a moment to see if his intuition had proved correct. He had just about given up when the statue's eyes began to glow.
***
"I'm sorry I had to get you up in the middle of the night like this, but I... found some interesting things out regarding the statue," Suniel said, looking back and forth at the bleary-eyed and rumpled human, half-orc, and hobgoblin that stood outside his carriage. "Now, don't be alarmed, but..."
He turned to the carriage. "Keeper, come out."
Kezzek turned to the carriage wearily, noticing Harold's expression of annoyance and Grok'nar's of curiosity. Then the carriage door opened and the statue stepped out, eyes flaring.
Kezzek and the other two reached for weapons that they weren't wearing, cursing and stepping back.
Suniel stepped towards them, raising his arms palcatingly. "Wait, it's not going to attack. Hold!"
The iron statue nodded to them, eyes glowing and flickering. "I am called Keeper," it said in a deep, faintly metallic voice, its brown iron lips moving in a poor simulacrum of the movements of speech. "The Master has asked me to repeat what I have been able to glean from my fragile connection to the Nexus."
"The Master?" Grok'nar said.
Keeper turned to the hobgoblin. "That is correct. The Master brought me to life."
Harold glanced at Suniel. "And how did he do that?"
Suniel cut Keeper off before he could answer. "That's not important. Keeper, tell them what you can remember."
The statue nodded to him. "It is not memory, it is access to the Nexus. I am Keeper, designed to keep the Seeking Stones."
Harold's eyes shot to Suniel. "You didn't give this thing your amulet stone did you? You did, didn't you?"
"It's none of your concern, but I did," the wizard said, gesturing to Keeper again. "Just listen."
"I am a creation of Iron Sky, crafted somewhere among the seven of the Thousand Skylands that Iron Sky controls. Rumors say that thousands of years ago the Thousand Skylands and Felskein were together, but that Felskein suddenly disappeared. It is known as the Lost Continent and to the peoples of the Thousand Skylands it is little more than legend and myth." Keeper glanced at the dirt at his feet. "Except that I now stand upon it and converse with its peoples."
"What are these Thousand Skylands and this Iron Sky?" Kezzek said, moving to the side to examine the statue from another angle.
Keeper turned its head, odd, glowing eyes following him. "The Thousand Skylands are the Islands of the Sky, forever flying high above the Endless Sands. As for Iron Sky, all I can access from the Nexus is that it controls seven Skylands - and seeks to acquire more."
Grok'nar tapped on Keeper's chest. "Can you feel that?"
"Feel?" Keeper said, head cocking to the side as it regarded the hobgoblin.
"And what is the Nexus?" Kezzek said.
Keeper paused for a long moment. "I do not know."
Harold stared at it. "You don't know what the Nexus is is? You just said the Nexus was how you knew what you just told us!"
"My access to it is weak." Keeper tapped his forehead, on a smooth spot where an indentation had been earlier. "I draw in large part on the power of the Seeking Stones I contain. While Keeping only one stone and with... something out there that interferes with my access to the Nexus, there is much that I do not know, that I do not have the power to access."
"Well, you can't have mine, that's for damn sure," Harold said. He turned to Suniel. "How do you know you can trust this thing?"
Suniel glanced at the statue for a long moment. "I don't," he said softly. "I just have a feeling..."
"Why is Iron Sky even after these amulets? What's so special about them?" Harold said, turning on Keeper.
Keeper was silent for a long moment. "I do not know."
Harold threw his arms into the air and walked back towards the inn. "Wake me up when it has something useful to tell us."
Kezzek watched him go, then turned back. Grok'nar yawned, stretched, and patted the statue on the shoulder. "Night, statue thingy. I'm going to go enjoy my big comfortable pile of hay while I have it."
The hobgoblin disappeared into the stables and Kezzek turned to Suniel. "As interesting as this all is, unless this Keeper... remembers more information about these Iron Sky constructs' questionable activities, I'm not sure it's even worth reporting to the Greywarden Enclave. Let me know if any more information surfaces."
Suniel nodded. As Kezzek headed back to his room, the wizard and his strange new companion stood together in silence.
Last edited:
Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 8, Part 4
It was the racket outside that woke Suniel up. By the time he got outside, Guntl was sitting on Stabber's chest, prying a dagger from the goblin's fingers.
"It's mine, I bought it!" Stabber said as Guntl finally got it free.
"You lost ownership when you cut me, goblin," Guntl said, brushing the blood from a cut on his cheek away with his sleeve.
"What's all this about?" Kezzek said, striding out of the inn, Greywarden gauntlet shining in the sunlight. Apparently, Stabber knew what it was, as he stopped struggling and went limp.
Suniel walked over and looked down. "Let him up Guntl, I need to talk with him."
Guntl complied, tucking Stabber's makeshift dagger into his belt. Stabber stood, glancing quickly between the Greywarden, the orc, and Suniel. "I didn't do it!"
"Didn't do what?" Kezzek said.
"Anything they accused me of?"
"Who?"
"A farmer found a couple chickens missing and two of his dogs dead," Suniel said, not looking away from Stabber. "They said it was a goblin that did it."
"It was Lunt!" Stabber said, gesturing towards Lunt's box on the back of the carriage. Faint snoring could be heard from within.
"Please," Guntl said, shaking his head. "Killing or stealing is too much work for Lunt. I haven't seen him do anything harder than eat too much since I've been here."
Kezzek growled and looked at Suniel. "Is this goblin under your protection?"
Stabber bit his lip and his eyes got big as he glanced between Suniel and the huge half-orc. "That depends on whether the goblin in question is acting in accordance to the agreement we had."
Stabber turned to run, but Kezzek was faster, grabbing the goblin and hoisting him into the air with his gauntleted fist. A blade came out of nowhere, raked across the metal, and flashed in front of Kezzek's face, but the Greywarden barely flinched. Instead he backhanded the goblin, threw him to the ground, and knelt on the thrashing goblin's back. He pried Stabber's razor free and tossed it aside. "Assaulting a Greywarden. Serious offense."
At that, Stabber went limp again and began crying. Suniel sighed and put an hand on Kezzek's shoulder. "I paid the restitution for the farmer even though he had no real, hard proof. I ask for Stabber to be given one last chance before he is turned over to Greywarden justice." He put special emphasis on the last to be sure Stabber heard it.
The Greywarden grunted, stood up, pulled his journal from his pack, and began writing. Stabber shuffled away and stood, glowering at Kezzek and Suniel. "I will do as you ask, wizard, but on probation. He must remain within 50 feet of you or your carriage for two weeks or he will be assumed guilty of assault on a Greywarden as well as being an immediate suspect for any other crimes under review at the time."
Harold walked out of the inn and took in the situation quickly. "I see we're all up. Good, saves me some time. We should head out to Northmand before it gets too hot out here." He turned to Guntl. "What happened to your face?"
At that moment, Grok'nar walked out of the stables, picking bits of straw off of his armor, and glanced down. "Hey, look here. Free razor!"
***
Long strands of lanterns were again hung between Northmand's walls, decorated here and there with mini bundles of wheat and strands of flowers. The harvest festival was nearing its climax and the spaces between Northmand's towering walls were literally packed with people drinking and dancing. Music from dozens of troupes mixed with laughter and raucous singing from every tavern.
Harold didn't notice any of it. Instead he stood on the wall, staring north towards Mirror Lake in the slowly fading afternoon light, his thoughts gloomy and distant. He barely heard Kezzek come up behind him, only registering the half-orc's presence when he leaned on the battlements next to him.
"How'd it go?" Harold said, not looking away from the lake.
Kezzek growled. "The Inspectors said they were still searching for the Assassin. They've gotten scattered reports of hooded, suspicious looking men, but with all the festival masks people are wearing, they've pretty much got the investigation on hold until the Harvest Festival is over. How about you?"
"The Ambassador got back while we were still out in the Ragged Hills and headed out again. We just missed him. There's some festival barge that left this morning and won't be back until sunset tonight. We should gather everyone up and head north to the docktown to meet them."
Kezzek glanced over. "You seem worried. You still thinking that Assassins are here to kill your Ambassador?"
Harold almost laughed. "Who else is there here important enough to be worth sending an Assassin after?"
There was a long silence at that, not broken for several minutes when a guard found them. "Captain Donnolan will see you know."
Kezzek nodded to the man and turned to Harold. "Come, let's gather the others and deliver our report. After that there should still be time to reach the docktown to meet your Ambassador."
He turned and headed towards the inner keep. A few minutes later, Harold followed, his feeling of disquiet grown stronger rather than soothed by the Greywarden's words.
***
"Excellent work with the Chieftain," Captain Donnolan said, hefting a bulging pouch onto the table with a clink. "As promised, here is the reward for the four of you."
Harold glanced at the pouch and made a dismissive gesture, his mouth opening. Whatever he was going to say, died before it could be spoken and Grok'ner grabbed the pouch, pulled a stool up to a smaller side table, tossed the pouch onto it, spilling its contents across the wood. Even Kezzek whistled at the warm glow of the platinum. Kezzek had never seen so much money in one place before.
As the hobgoblin happily began counting, the other three turned back to the Captain, Harold with a sigh.
"Don't mind him," Suniel said. "He doesn't understand the finer points of polite behavior."
"Or even most of the general ones," Harold said with a sour glance. Grok'nar grinned at him.
Donnolan waved it away. "Doesn't bother me, it's what you accomplished that really matters. If what you boys did buys us even a month of peace, it will be worth every platinum coin on that table. There's a new barracks going in at Laketide and we're building new forts near all the mines. If we have enough time, we may even get more done."
"Glad to be of service to our allies," Harold said, with a sharp glance at the hobgoblin. Grok'nar seemed to be busy counting and sorting.
"There was something else," Suniel said. "We were attacked by something else while out in the Ragged Hills. We've discovered that they are known as Iron Sky, rusty iron constructs sent from the Thousand Skylands to-"
In later conversations, they would mostly piece together what happened next.
It was as if time froze. They were still conscious, aware of what was going on about them as the air seemed to turn solid, a tossed platinum halted in mid-air, a drop of ink from Donnolan's quill frozen in mid-splash as it struck parchment.
None of them were able to turn and look to see the figure that entered, but they all agreed that it was golden, shining like a beacon as it glided into the room. "You will tell no one of this," it said to all of them, voice soft and melodic and powerful, almost a whisper. It moved to Captain Donnolan, wrapped and hooded in shining cloth of gold. A brief whisper in the Captains ear and it turned, passing quickly from the room.
Kezzek nearly fell over, the small sounds in the room suddenly pronounced and sharp after the absolute quiet of a moment before. Donnolan looked up at them with a look of puzzlement. "I'm sorry, I forget, did I already give you Northmand's thanks for your latest work with the hobgoblins? Oh yes, that's right, you were saying something about your trip back..."
"N... no, no," Kezzek said, his tongue feeling thick. He leaned over the gape-jawed hobgoblin and swiped the coins into the bag. "It wasn't anything, uh, worth talking about."
The four of them exchanged a quick series of glances and they all made their way hastily to the door. "We have urgent business to attend to that just came up," Suniel said. Donnolan seemed puzzled, but waved good-naturedly.
"Be sure to enjoy the festival!"
***
They rode in silence for a while, which suited Grok'nar fine after nearly an hour of sometimes heated discussion. Then Kezzek had to bring it up again. "You're sure no one got a look at him?"
"I had the feeling it was a her," Suniel said, eyes distant. "I don't know how I know, but it just... felt like a her."
"Didn't know you were a skilled enough wizard to cop a feel on someone powerful enough to stop time," Grok'nar said.
Suniel shot him a sharp look, then half-smiled. "You know what I mean."
"What sort of thing even has the power to stop time?" Harold said, brow furrowed. "It could have just killed us where we stood and we couldn't have done a thing about it."
They all glanced at Suniel, their resident expert on magic. Eventually he shrugged. "Something more powerful than anyone I've ever... met."
There was something in the wizard's pause the made Grok'nar suspicious. The others didn't seem to have noticed though, so Grok'nar shrugged it off.
The docktown was larger than it had looked from Northmand, stretching across a mile or more of Laketide beachfront. Grok'nar turned to Harold. "Do you even know where we're going?"
The others glanced at Harold as well but he just shook his head. "Look, it's a huge barge with almost a hundred people on it. It can't be that hard to miss."
Grok'nar had his doubts, but everyone was in a touchy enough mood already that he didn't say anything about it. They rode through the sunset docktown, the streets nearly empty, the people all probably at their homes or the festival.
Not long after entering the town, they reached the docks themselves.
"Look, there it is right there," Harold said, gesturing to a small lantern-lit dock a hundred yards away along the shoreline. A small procession of people stood on the dock, staring out at the lake.
"Seems a bit small for a welcoming party," Grok'nar said. "You sure it's not that one way up there with all the light and milling crowds of people?"
"No, he's right, this seems to be the one," Suniel said, glancing out across Mirror Lake. "You can see the lights of the barge right out there and it's heading this way."
They all followed the elf's gaze. A huge double decked barge was drifting towards the nearby dock, brightly lit with figures moving about on its deck and the faint sounds of music drifting across the water. "You see," Kezzek said. "Here comes your Ambassador, safe and-"
Just then, a shadow seemed to engulf the barge and it burst into flame.
Harold swore and turned to spur his horse but Grok'nar caught something moving out of the corner of his eye and called out a warning. From the shadowy streets and alleys of the warehouses, shops, and store-houses around them, six pale, dark cloaked figures materialized all around them, feral grins on their faces.
It was the racket outside that woke Suniel up. By the time he got outside, Guntl was sitting on Stabber's chest, prying a dagger from the goblin's fingers.
"It's mine, I bought it!" Stabber said as Guntl finally got it free.
"You lost ownership when you cut me, goblin," Guntl said, brushing the blood from a cut on his cheek away with his sleeve.
"What's all this about?" Kezzek said, striding out of the inn, Greywarden gauntlet shining in the sunlight. Apparently, Stabber knew what it was, as he stopped struggling and went limp.
Suniel walked over and looked down. "Let him up Guntl, I need to talk with him."
Guntl complied, tucking Stabber's makeshift dagger into his belt. Stabber stood, glancing quickly between the Greywarden, the orc, and Suniel. "I didn't do it!"
"Didn't do what?" Kezzek said.
"Anything they accused me of?"
"Who?"
"A farmer found a couple chickens missing and two of his dogs dead," Suniel said, not looking away from Stabber. "They said it was a goblin that did it."
"It was Lunt!" Stabber said, gesturing towards Lunt's box on the back of the carriage. Faint snoring could be heard from within.
"Please," Guntl said, shaking his head. "Killing or stealing is too much work for Lunt. I haven't seen him do anything harder than eat too much since I've been here."
Kezzek growled and looked at Suniel. "Is this goblin under your protection?"
Stabber bit his lip and his eyes got big as he glanced between Suniel and the huge half-orc. "That depends on whether the goblin in question is acting in accordance to the agreement we had."
Stabber turned to run, but Kezzek was faster, grabbing the goblin and hoisting him into the air with his gauntleted fist. A blade came out of nowhere, raked across the metal, and flashed in front of Kezzek's face, but the Greywarden barely flinched. Instead he backhanded the goblin, threw him to the ground, and knelt on the thrashing goblin's back. He pried Stabber's razor free and tossed it aside. "Assaulting a Greywarden. Serious offense."
At that, Stabber went limp again and began crying. Suniel sighed and put an hand on Kezzek's shoulder. "I paid the restitution for the farmer even though he had no real, hard proof. I ask for Stabber to be given one last chance before he is turned over to Greywarden justice." He put special emphasis on the last to be sure Stabber heard it.
The Greywarden grunted, stood up, pulled his journal from his pack, and began writing. Stabber shuffled away and stood, glowering at Kezzek and Suniel. "I will do as you ask, wizard, but on probation. He must remain within 50 feet of you or your carriage for two weeks or he will be assumed guilty of assault on a Greywarden as well as being an immediate suspect for any other crimes under review at the time."
Harold walked out of the inn and took in the situation quickly. "I see we're all up. Good, saves me some time. We should head out to Northmand before it gets too hot out here." He turned to Guntl. "What happened to your face?"
At that moment, Grok'nar walked out of the stables, picking bits of straw off of his armor, and glanced down. "Hey, look here. Free razor!"
***
Long strands of lanterns were again hung between Northmand's walls, decorated here and there with mini bundles of wheat and strands of flowers. The harvest festival was nearing its climax and the spaces between Northmand's towering walls were literally packed with people drinking and dancing. Music from dozens of troupes mixed with laughter and raucous singing from every tavern.
Harold didn't notice any of it. Instead he stood on the wall, staring north towards Mirror Lake in the slowly fading afternoon light, his thoughts gloomy and distant. He barely heard Kezzek come up behind him, only registering the half-orc's presence when he leaned on the battlements next to him.
"How'd it go?" Harold said, not looking away from the lake.
Kezzek growled. "The Inspectors said they were still searching for the Assassin. They've gotten scattered reports of hooded, suspicious looking men, but with all the festival masks people are wearing, they've pretty much got the investigation on hold until the Harvest Festival is over. How about you?"
"The Ambassador got back while we were still out in the Ragged Hills and headed out again. We just missed him. There's some festival barge that left this morning and won't be back until sunset tonight. We should gather everyone up and head north to the docktown to meet them."
Kezzek glanced over. "You seem worried. You still thinking that Assassins are here to kill your Ambassador?"
Harold almost laughed. "Who else is there here important enough to be worth sending an Assassin after?"
There was a long silence at that, not broken for several minutes when a guard found them. "Captain Donnolan will see you know."
Kezzek nodded to the man and turned to Harold. "Come, let's gather the others and deliver our report. After that there should still be time to reach the docktown to meet your Ambassador."
He turned and headed towards the inner keep. A few minutes later, Harold followed, his feeling of disquiet grown stronger rather than soothed by the Greywarden's words.
***
"Excellent work with the Chieftain," Captain Donnolan said, hefting a bulging pouch onto the table with a clink. "As promised, here is the reward for the four of you."
Harold glanced at the pouch and made a dismissive gesture, his mouth opening. Whatever he was going to say, died before it could be spoken and Grok'ner grabbed the pouch, pulled a stool up to a smaller side table, tossed the pouch onto it, spilling its contents across the wood. Even Kezzek whistled at the warm glow of the platinum. Kezzek had never seen so much money in one place before.
As the hobgoblin happily began counting, the other three turned back to the Captain, Harold with a sigh.
"Don't mind him," Suniel said. "He doesn't understand the finer points of polite behavior."
"Or even most of the general ones," Harold said with a sour glance. Grok'nar grinned at him.
Donnolan waved it away. "Doesn't bother me, it's what you accomplished that really matters. If what you boys did buys us even a month of peace, it will be worth every platinum coin on that table. There's a new barracks going in at Laketide and we're building new forts near all the mines. If we have enough time, we may even get more done."
"Glad to be of service to our allies," Harold said, with a sharp glance at the hobgoblin. Grok'nar seemed to be busy counting and sorting.
"There was something else," Suniel said. "We were attacked by something else while out in the Ragged Hills. We've discovered that they are known as Iron Sky, rusty iron constructs sent from the Thousand Skylands to-"
In later conversations, they would mostly piece together what happened next.
It was as if time froze. They were still conscious, aware of what was going on about them as the air seemed to turn solid, a tossed platinum halted in mid-air, a drop of ink from Donnolan's quill frozen in mid-splash as it struck parchment.
None of them were able to turn and look to see the figure that entered, but they all agreed that it was golden, shining like a beacon as it glided into the room. "You will tell no one of this," it said to all of them, voice soft and melodic and powerful, almost a whisper. It moved to Captain Donnolan, wrapped and hooded in shining cloth of gold. A brief whisper in the Captains ear and it turned, passing quickly from the room.
Kezzek nearly fell over, the small sounds in the room suddenly pronounced and sharp after the absolute quiet of a moment before. Donnolan looked up at them with a look of puzzlement. "I'm sorry, I forget, did I already give you Northmand's thanks for your latest work with the hobgoblins? Oh yes, that's right, you were saying something about your trip back..."
"N... no, no," Kezzek said, his tongue feeling thick. He leaned over the gape-jawed hobgoblin and swiped the coins into the bag. "It wasn't anything, uh, worth talking about."
The four of them exchanged a quick series of glances and they all made their way hastily to the door. "We have urgent business to attend to that just came up," Suniel said. Donnolan seemed puzzled, but waved good-naturedly.
"Be sure to enjoy the festival!"
***
They rode in silence for a while, which suited Grok'nar fine after nearly an hour of sometimes heated discussion. Then Kezzek had to bring it up again. "You're sure no one got a look at him?"
"I had the feeling it was a her," Suniel said, eyes distant. "I don't know how I know, but it just... felt like a her."
"Didn't know you were a skilled enough wizard to cop a feel on someone powerful enough to stop time," Grok'nar said.
Suniel shot him a sharp look, then half-smiled. "You know what I mean."
"What sort of thing even has the power to stop time?" Harold said, brow furrowed. "It could have just killed us where we stood and we couldn't have done a thing about it."
They all glanced at Suniel, their resident expert on magic. Eventually he shrugged. "Something more powerful than anyone I've ever... met."
There was something in the wizard's pause the made Grok'nar suspicious. The others didn't seem to have noticed though, so Grok'nar shrugged it off.
The docktown was larger than it had looked from Northmand, stretching across a mile or more of Laketide beachfront. Grok'nar turned to Harold. "Do you even know where we're going?"
The others glanced at Harold as well but he just shook his head. "Look, it's a huge barge with almost a hundred people on it. It can't be that hard to miss."
Grok'nar had his doubts, but everyone was in a touchy enough mood already that he didn't say anything about it. They rode through the sunset docktown, the streets nearly empty, the people all probably at their homes or the festival.
Not long after entering the town, they reached the docks themselves.
"Look, there it is right there," Harold said, gesturing to a small lantern-lit dock a hundred yards away along the shoreline. A small procession of people stood on the dock, staring out at the lake.
"Seems a bit small for a welcoming party," Grok'nar said. "You sure it's not that one way up there with all the light and milling crowds of people?"
"No, he's right, this seems to be the one," Suniel said, glancing out across Mirror Lake. "You can see the lights of the barge right out there and it's heading this way."
They all followed the elf's gaze. A huge double decked barge was drifting towards the nearby dock, brightly lit with figures moving about on its deck and the faint sounds of music drifting across the water. "You see," Kezzek said. "Here comes your Ambassador, safe and-"
Just then, a shadow seemed to engulf the barge and it burst into flame.
Harold swore and turned to spur his horse but Grok'nar caught something moving out of the corner of his eye and called out a warning. From the shadowy streets and alleys of the warehouses, shops, and store-houses around them, six pale, dark cloaked figures materialized all around them, feral grins on their faces.
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Iron Sky
Procedurally Generated
Session 8 Crunch
This session actually had very little "crunch" since it was mostly a roleplaying session.
The only fight - against Iron Sky near the beginning of the session - went much easier than the last one. Amazing how a couple levels can turn a fight like that from "don't know how we're going to survive" to "dispatch them easily."
I've also been leaving out the mechanically-necessary but plot-irrelevent bits like selling loot and buying/enchanting equipment. That all took a decent chunk of time when they got to Northmand.
The discussion about the whole "time stop" incident was quite involved as well. They were a bit... unsettled by the whole deal, in- and out-of-character.
Of course, the barge/"superman assassin" cliff hanger happened at the end of the session in-game, just as it did here.
And now, for madlibs!
Read Session 9, featuring:
Huge swarms of
,
victory over the
and their
revealed, a
investigation that ends in mass
, the case of the missing
, a strange trade: 1
for 500
- and finally, the return of the
. Whew!
This session actually had very little "crunch" since it was mostly a roleplaying session.
The only fight - against Iron Sky near the beginning of the session - went much easier than the last one. Amazing how a couple levels can turn a fight like that from "don't know how we're going to survive" to "dispatch them easily."
I've also been leaving out the mechanically-necessary but plot-irrelevent bits like selling loot and buying/enchanting equipment. That all took a decent chunk of time when they got to Northmand.
The discussion about the whole "time stop" incident was quite involved as well. They were a bit... unsettled by the whole deal, in- and out-of-character.
Of course, the barge/"superman assassin" cliff hanger happened at the end of the session in-game, just as it did here.
And now, for madlibs!
Read Session 9, featuring:
Huge swarms of
bats
partial
'superman assassins'
true nature
murder
thievery
minstrel
ressurection
acres of land
gem eye