(Casual D&D IV) A Knight for a Pawn

[Festy_Dog]

[ooc: I can't guarantee anything. ]

Nurthk snarls like some kind of predator as his axes whirl streaks of flame around him in the air. The blades whip and lash cruel arcs as they strike sparks off the contructs metal hide.

[ooc: Attack Rolls
1st: to hit - 26 ; damage - 13 slashing, 5 fire
2nd: to hit - 19 ; damage - 14 slashing, 6 fire
3rd: to hit - 25 ; damage - 11 slashing, 6 fire
4th: to hit - 22 ; damage - 8 slashing, 1 fire]

 

[Guilt Puppy]

Nurthk makes contact with his enemy, but nothing solid -- the twirling blades merely graze across the slick metal surfaces, knocking nothing out of place.

Hiritus has arguably less success with his sword, finding air, but also some insight: The thing takes special care to avoid the blow, bowing downwards in one quick reflex.

As Fendric returns, he sees that Xiao has recognized Hiritus' find. The monk leaps forward while the thing is still in its bow, straddling its back. Grasping its shoulders, he fights to stay on as it lunges quickly upright, and despite the thing's sudden and abrupt movements he somehow succeeds.

With the thing's focus shifted toward Xiao, Raven finds it almost easy to lay two strong shots across its torso. It is enough: Folding at its now grossly distorted midsection, the metal man cannot support Xiao's weight (or perhaps even its own) and ends up in a heap on the ground, its legs and upper torso still recognizable, but everything in between a writhing mass of misplaced rods, still bending at their joints, trying to sort themselves into some meaningful arrangement...

 

[Festy_Dog]

The construct was still moving so Nurthk lifted his axe, then looking at Xiao he lowered not wanting to accidently hit him, then he lifted it again as the construct moved more. This went on a couple more times until Nurthk calmed down, his rage lost while trying to think. Placing his doubleaxe down he leaned on it as he started panting from his previous physical exertion.

"What-" he wheezed, "-now?"

He eyed off the construct warily as it tried to move.

 

[DrZombie]

Raven coughs up another wad of blood. He walks over to the construct and kicks it a few times for good measure.

"I hate constructs. More like hammering at the forge then fighting."

 

[Guest 11456]

Cylantro : Female Human

A bit miffed that her spell had no appreciable effect on the contruct, Cylantro quickly shakes off the feeling and continues to fly above the area enjoying her new spell. She is careful not to fly too high, as she is not quite sure exactly how long it will last. That's the problem with new spells with durations. You never know exactly how long they will last.

 

[dpdx]

"Glory to the Radiant Light! May we rest now!?"

Fendric, visibly irritated that he had no more healing for his companions after spending it mainly in vain upon the yellow scarf community, moves quickly to first Raven, then Nurthk and the others, stabilizing and binding wounds as much as he can (+11 to Heal, taking 20 on Raven and Nurthk, taking 10 on the others).

As he works on his party, Fendric is still venting his spleen at the yellow-scarves:

"At least two others of yours are dead back there, yes! Do you have no one who can explain to us where something like that had come from? I am tending to my party, and then I am retired for the night! You don't need me to carry away your dead!"

Hiritus dusts himself off, a little sheepish that not only was his attempt to deactivate the thing unsuccessful, but also that he had failed to land a blow. He reconciles his conscience with the fact that something would have to be sentient to issue or accept an honorable challenge. One cannot tilt at golems or windmills, he figures. As he makes sense of his world, he ventures into the cave with a few of the yellow-scarves, content to offer assistance.

 

[Sparky]

Oliver slowly lowers the shovel he'd brandished with a white-knuckled grip. He hunched down to examine the metal thing as Fendric grumpily saw to fresh wounds. The priest was tired and taking it out on the yellow-scarves. Oliver would smooth things over after Fendric retired. Cylantro floated above, and Winkle squawked at her indignantly. He spared a glance for Nurthk and Raven, hoping the two would be okay through the night. The bloody gobs that Raven was coughing up weren't promising.

Oliver himself was weary to the bone, something broken deep inside him. After... At the confrontation on the beach. Something wasn't right. Like the shimmering wreck before the beleaguered group, twitching into stillness.

"You there. Shut your gob and grab a shovel, I'm going to take a closer look at this thing."

Oliver called over some of the other young men to watch over the construct as he examined it, making sure they were armed with shovels and lengths of clubbing wood in case it moved again. Keyed up as they were, Oliver was very careful to not move suddenly. He warily lifted each limb in turn marveling at the cleverness of the craftsmanship and wondering who would make such a thing and to what purpose. He carefully avoided the knob at the base of its neck, fearing that even damaged the thing could reactivate and lay into them again.

There's always a smith's mark... Where is it? He searches the creature head to foot, trying to find some sign of origin or manufacture.

OOC: Again, no sheet. Can't seem to find it. :\ But I remember maxing out Search.
Search: 13 + 12 = 25

 

[Guilt Puppy]

The yellow-scarves are cautious about approaching the cave; they seem at least as astonished by the metal arrival as your party, perhaps even moreso. After all, it's shown up in their home.

Oliver, meanwhile, finds what appears to be the insignia of the thing's maker low down on the knob Hiritus first noted. It is the shape of a "t", split with a line down the center and flanked by two diamond-shaped pock marks on each of the lower quadrants. It is not one that he recognizes. (I rolled Oli's knowledge: arcana check, but if anyone else has the skill, feel free to roll as well.)

A few yards away, Tatlock begins to edge his way back amongst the group. Abruptly, the metal thing sits upright and flails with its shoulders, but it has not made sense enough of its arms again just yet to strike. It is enough to drop Tat from his feet with alarm, however.

 

[Festy_Dog]

Nurthk hasn't quite yet caught his breath, and his expression sours as the construct starts moving.

"For the duty of Cuthbert!" he says in exasperation, "Is there a way to stop this thing or must we simply beat it as long as we wish to remain here?"

 

[DrZombie]

Raven painfully crawl back to his feet, using his sword more for support then to make a threathening gesture.

"Farlanghs testicles.. This will hurt."