Session 10: Heart of Steal
I have arrived home successful, my reputation in Starke’s eyes growing. Until this moment I would have been uncertain, but now I know that I am quickly becoming an asset to Victor and not merely a novelty. The time for the two bit jobs is over, Starke will now trust me with the big jobs, and he’ll never disrespect me like he would any other woman. He is exactly where I want him, and all it took was delivering him a glorified sword (the warforged).
As suspected there were other interested parties in the package. When Zeech foolishly paraded it to his palace they saw their opportunity. Some kind of tiefling sorcerer and a band of mercenaries attacked the parade, blasting the guards with fire magic and alchemy, immediately sewing mass panic in the crowd of onlookers. Among the mercenaries, two stood out from the flock. They were cloaked in shadow and moved with deadly grace- in all likelihood trained assassins, the kind that trade a portion of their souls for dark power to make them more deadly killers.
These attackers quickly closed in, bursting out from the crowds. Some of the mercenaries attempted to finish off the distracted and wounded guards, while others moved directly towards the wagon, presumably in an attempt to free the warforged. We used their attack as a distraction, closing in around the construct and bolstering the ineffectual city guard. We were careful not attack the guards and focus on the mercenaries, but Zeech’s guards didn’t know what was going on and saw us all as enemies. Darren and I both jumped into the wagon that held the cage containing the warforged. There we battled the mercenaries that were attempting to either free of the warforged or steal the wagon. Unfortunately, the sorcerer’s initial fireball had spooked the horses, and we were only barely able to leap aboard before they jolted forward and charged down the street towards the market trampling several of the scorched guards that had led the procession. It was chaos. A few mercenaries were on the wagon, and Darren and I were locked in a three-way fight with them and the wagon driver and his guard. Furthermore, the tiefling was still hurling spells at us. At some point, I was hit by a flask of alchemist’s acid, which caused me great agony as it seared my flesh. Torfinn tried to help by hurling spells from the sidelines, and somehow Deryl managed to get up on a rooftop where she too tossed spells down at our foes. I also recall one of the assassins suddenly appearing in the back of the wagon. It was as though he’d materialized out of nowhere. He and Darren faced off, and I tried support Androsax, by putting a few bolts into the bastard. Unfortunately, when the assassin first appeared he wasn’t fully tangible, and my bolts near passed through him, causing much less damage than they normally would have. Luckily, Darren’s swordsmanship served him well, and I was impressed to see that he managed to parry most of the assassin’s attacks.
The wagon careened onward, and the sorcerer and the second of his assassin hirelings chased after the out of control wagon. Mighty Bjorn hurried after them, while the remainder of the tiefling’s mercenaries were delayed by a running battle with the surviving members of the wagon’s guard. Fighting on the wagon was a challenge. It jostled about and made it difficult to load and aim Touch of Death, but it became more so when one of Torffin’s spells stunned the horses causing them to fall forward into the dirt. The wagon came crashing to a halt, and the cage that held the warforged was flung off. Both Darren and fell down, but at least we stayed in the wagon, unlike the majority of our enemies. The events are now a blur. One of the mercenaries managed to make it to cage. He used some sort of alchemical acid to weaken the lock, and the warforged was able to kick open the door. The tiefling had been badly wounded, and I suspect he was contemplating retreat. He should have done so. Instead, seeing his prize was free, he cast a spell that took control of the warforged. However, before he was able to make off with it, I put a bolt into his hellspawned head. The construct snapped free of his charm, and panicked. It bolted, plowing through the crowds and running off into the city. By this time reinforcements from the city guard had organized were closing in. They were ready to arrest us despite the fact that we had not fired a single shot at them. Not knowing how this would eventually play out, we still restrained ourselves from attacking them. I leapt out of the cart ran after the construct.
It was easy enough to keep in my sights for it plowed its way through the crowds that thronged the market, leaving a trail of screaming civilians behind. Where it relied on force, I relied on agility, and I wove my way among the throngs with grace. I soon realized the Darren was also chasing the thing, but it seemed that we’d left the rest of our companions behind. A squad of city guard was in turn pursuing us, but they could not keep up with their armor and shields slowing them. The sprint was tiring, but I was doing well. We made it out of the market, but then I came upon a wall. It was a new section of city wall that was under construction, apparently an attempt to seal the noble quarter off from the main part of the city. Several stories of wooden scaffolding lined the incomplete wall. The warforged had already begun to climb up. I don’t know where he thought he’d go, but I could do nothing but continue the pursuit. At this point, Androsax overtook me, and he made a backhand comment, as he used his great strength to haul himself up the scaffold with ease. I clumsily climbed up after them, fueled by my embarrassment that the fool could over shadow me in anything. The package was not far ahead of us, and we had reached one the uppermost section of scaffolding.
I watched as Derren chased after our quarry along the planks and leapt between a gap that separated one section of scaffold from another. The earlier humiliation of the climb was still burning in my mind, and I jumped after him. Unfortunately, my leap fell short, but I managed to catch onto the second level of scaffold. I cursed my body’s failing energies and made my mistake as gracefully as I could. Then I hauled myself back onto the scaffold and continued the chase. I hazarded a glance back over my shoulder to see if any of the guards were still on our tails. One of them, the commander I believe, had managed to keep up better than I had thought, and I was just in time to see him attempt the gap. He was wearing heavy armor. I think he realized what a bad idea it was and tried to change his mind at the last second, but by then it was too late. He had already stepped forward. He plummeted to the ground far below where he landed on a pile of bricks. I shook my head and hurried after my quarry.
Finally, I was able to catch up with Derren and the package. I couldn’t see them clearly because they were directly above me and the planks blocked my view. However, I could hear the boards groaning under their weight, and it was clear that they were locked in a grappling match. Instead of trying to get up to their level, I decided I might try to reason with the thing from below. The ancient war machines of the Bael Turath empire were said to have had a facsimile of sentience, like talking dogs. I called out to him, making him aware of the situation. The guards had surrounded us down below, and it was only a matter of time before they made their way up or took us down with arrows. I explained this situation to him, and told him that we would be able to teleport him to safety with the ritual I carried with me. We were his best shot of getting out of the city. I tried to convince him of this and hoped that he would come quietly. Luckily, he was listening and he believed me. I don’t think he fully trusted me, but I at least had convinced him to let us help him try to escape. The three of us climbed up onto the top of a newly built section of the wall. They hadn’t completely filled it in yet, and their was a shallow trench running down its center that we were able to take shelter in. There I pulled out my scroll and began the ritual that would take us back to Grimsburg.
Derren attempted to lead our pursuers away, and he was able to for the most part but too many had seen us. I was moments away from completing the ritual when they closed in on us. Derren proved his worth here; his fighting far outweighs his skill in diplomacy. He held his ground against three fully trained soldiers and none passed him to disrupt my casting. The machine also helped, apparently convinced of our intentions from watching our bounding fighter.
It took all my concentration but with one last deft stroke I completed the circle and a tear opened in front of me and within I could see the basement of Starke’s bar in Grimsburg. It spluttered, the connection unstable and I knew it would close in just a couple seconds. It was my first ritual, I was overjoyed to see it work, especially under these conditions. Screaming out to the construct I dove into the rift, and it followed me. Then it closed. Darren and my companions had been left behind. In a way I was glad because it gave Zeech’s men no chance to follow us, but I hoped that Darren would be able to away.
We had taken advantage of the situation and had escaped with Zeech’s prize. I would have felt proud of myself if I hadn’t seen a flaw in the plan. Here I was, a soft fleshy humanoid in a room, alone with a giant, metal, man shaped machine built solely for the purpose of killing people. I continued to try to keep the warforged calm. I called one of Victor’s henchmen down to the basement where we had arrived. I immediately sent him to fetch Victor, for he alone would be strong enough to subdue the thing. I waited, remaining in the room with the deadly machine.
I had seen the way my companions had looked at the captive construct, and I was glad I had been able to still deliver him to Grimsburg. They did not understand these things as I did. This was not a person, and it was not truly conscious. It had not been born but built, and it had only been built for one purpose: to kill.
It looked at me with menace in its eyes, and in a cold, lifeless voice showed me his restraints. It asked for me to release its hands as a show of good faith. Being alone with the weapon, I didn’t see any other choice but to undo his bonds, or I truly believe it would have tried to kill me. It had already demonstrated that it was plenty deadly even with restraints. I reasoned that it was the only way to hold him here and that Victor could handle him once he arrived.
Unfortunately Victor sent men, and the first words out of one of their idiot mouths were “We’re here to pick up the prisoner”- it was like Derren had joined me. The construct went from docile to dangerous in an instant, and all his rage was centered on me, his betrayer. Knowing a losing battle when I saw one, I dove out of the room and raced up the stairs. It slashed me across the back with a serrated gauntlet as I fled, but I managed to get away. I then sent all of Victor’s men from upstairs down to re-enforce the fools below. I could hear the sounds of the battle as I left the bar. I later learned that it had cost six of his men, but Victor had his warforged.
In a week or so Derren and company would return. In the meantime, I relaxed in my workshop pouring over archaic texts. The strangest thing was starting to happen. The books were mostly Draconic and sometimes, without looking it up, I was starting to understand the words, even how they were spoken. I wasn’t learning them; they were just showing up in my head. It was in one of these ancient texts that I found the Mark. The book I found was not complete and it did not give me much information. It is a mark of prophecy, one of many. This particular mark translated as the mark of the scribe, showing up on great writers and diplomats. As I am neither I continue to search through the libraries for more information; I need to find out why this mark is on me and more importantly how to get rid of it. As it continues to darken against my skin my fear grows.
I have arrived home successful, my reputation in Starke’s eyes growing. Until this moment I would have been uncertain, but now I know that I am quickly becoming an asset to Victor and not merely a novelty. The time for the two bit jobs is over, Starke will now trust me with the big jobs, and he’ll never disrespect me like he would any other woman. He is exactly where I want him, and all it took was delivering him a glorified sword (the warforged).
As suspected there were other interested parties in the package. When Zeech foolishly paraded it to his palace they saw their opportunity. Some kind of tiefling sorcerer and a band of mercenaries attacked the parade, blasting the guards with fire magic and alchemy, immediately sewing mass panic in the crowd of onlookers. Among the mercenaries, two stood out from the flock. They were cloaked in shadow and moved with deadly grace- in all likelihood trained assassins, the kind that trade a portion of their souls for dark power to make them more deadly killers.
These attackers quickly closed in, bursting out from the crowds. Some of the mercenaries attempted to finish off the distracted and wounded guards, while others moved directly towards the wagon, presumably in an attempt to free the warforged. We used their attack as a distraction, closing in around the construct and bolstering the ineffectual city guard. We were careful not attack the guards and focus on the mercenaries, but Zeech’s guards didn’t know what was going on and saw us all as enemies. Darren and I both jumped into the wagon that held the cage containing the warforged. There we battled the mercenaries that were attempting to either free of the warforged or steal the wagon. Unfortunately, the sorcerer’s initial fireball had spooked the horses, and we were only barely able to leap aboard before they jolted forward and charged down the street towards the market trampling several of the scorched guards that had led the procession. It was chaos. A few mercenaries were on the wagon, and Darren and I were locked in a three-way fight with them and the wagon driver and his guard. Furthermore, the tiefling was still hurling spells at us. At some point, I was hit by a flask of alchemist’s acid, which caused me great agony as it seared my flesh. Torfinn tried to help by hurling spells from the sidelines, and somehow Deryl managed to get up on a rooftop where she too tossed spells down at our foes. I also recall one of the assassins suddenly appearing in the back of the wagon. It was as though he’d materialized out of nowhere. He and Darren faced off, and I tried support Androsax, by putting a few bolts into the bastard. Unfortunately, when the assassin first appeared he wasn’t fully tangible, and my bolts near passed through him, causing much less damage than they normally would have. Luckily, Darren’s swordsmanship served him well, and I was impressed to see that he managed to parry most of the assassin’s attacks.
The wagon careened onward, and the sorcerer and the second of his assassin hirelings chased after the out of control wagon. Mighty Bjorn hurried after them, while the remainder of the tiefling’s mercenaries were delayed by a running battle with the surviving members of the wagon’s guard. Fighting on the wagon was a challenge. It jostled about and made it difficult to load and aim Touch of Death, but it became more so when one of Torffin’s spells stunned the horses causing them to fall forward into the dirt. The wagon came crashing to a halt, and the cage that held the warforged was flung off. Both Darren and fell down, but at least we stayed in the wagon, unlike the majority of our enemies. The events are now a blur. One of the mercenaries managed to make it to cage. He used some sort of alchemical acid to weaken the lock, and the warforged was able to kick open the door. The tiefling had been badly wounded, and I suspect he was contemplating retreat. He should have done so. Instead, seeing his prize was free, he cast a spell that took control of the warforged. However, before he was able to make off with it, I put a bolt into his hellspawned head. The construct snapped free of his charm, and panicked. It bolted, plowing through the crowds and running off into the city. By this time reinforcements from the city guard had organized were closing in. They were ready to arrest us despite the fact that we had not fired a single shot at them. Not knowing how this would eventually play out, we still restrained ourselves from attacking them. I leapt out of the cart ran after the construct.
It was easy enough to keep in my sights for it plowed its way through the crowds that thronged the market, leaving a trail of screaming civilians behind. Where it relied on force, I relied on agility, and I wove my way among the throngs with grace. I soon realized the Darren was also chasing the thing, but it seemed that we’d left the rest of our companions behind. A squad of city guard was in turn pursuing us, but they could not keep up with their armor and shields slowing them. The sprint was tiring, but I was doing well. We made it out of the market, but then I came upon a wall. It was a new section of city wall that was under construction, apparently an attempt to seal the noble quarter off from the main part of the city. Several stories of wooden scaffolding lined the incomplete wall. The warforged had already begun to climb up. I don’t know where he thought he’d go, but I could do nothing but continue the pursuit. At this point, Androsax overtook me, and he made a backhand comment, as he used his great strength to haul himself up the scaffold with ease. I clumsily climbed up after them, fueled by my embarrassment that the fool could over shadow me in anything. The package was not far ahead of us, and we had reached one the uppermost section of scaffolding.
I watched as Derren chased after our quarry along the planks and leapt between a gap that separated one section of scaffold from another. The earlier humiliation of the climb was still burning in my mind, and I jumped after him. Unfortunately, my leap fell short, but I managed to catch onto the second level of scaffold. I cursed my body’s failing energies and made my mistake as gracefully as I could. Then I hauled myself back onto the scaffold and continued the chase. I hazarded a glance back over my shoulder to see if any of the guards were still on our tails. One of them, the commander I believe, had managed to keep up better than I had thought, and I was just in time to see him attempt the gap. He was wearing heavy armor. I think he realized what a bad idea it was and tried to change his mind at the last second, but by then it was too late. He had already stepped forward. He plummeted to the ground far below where he landed on a pile of bricks. I shook my head and hurried after my quarry.
Finally, I was able to catch up with Derren and the package. I couldn’t see them clearly because they were directly above me and the planks blocked my view. However, I could hear the boards groaning under their weight, and it was clear that they were locked in a grappling match. Instead of trying to get up to their level, I decided I might try to reason with the thing from below. The ancient war machines of the Bael Turath empire were said to have had a facsimile of sentience, like talking dogs. I called out to him, making him aware of the situation. The guards had surrounded us down below, and it was only a matter of time before they made their way up or took us down with arrows. I explained this situation to him, and told him that we would be able to teleport him to safety with the ritual I carried with me. We were his best shot of getting out of the city. I tried to convince him of this and hoped that he would come quietly. Luckily, he was listening and he believed me. I don’t think he fully trusted me, but I at least had convinced him to let us help him try to escape. The three of us climbed up onto the top of a newly built section of the wall. They hadn’t completely filled it in yet, and their was a shallow trench running down its center that we were able to take shelter in. There I pulled out my scroll and began the ritual that would take us back to Grimsburg.
Derren attempted to lead our pursuers away, and he was able to for the most part but too many had seen us. I was moments away from completing the ritual when they closed in on us. Derren proved his worth here; his fighting far outweighs his skill in diplomacy. He held his ground against three fully trained soldiers and none passed him to disrupt my casting. The machine also helped, apparently convinced of our intentions from watching our bounding fighter.
It took all my concentration but with one last deft stroke I completed the circle and a tear opened in front of me and within I could see the basement of Starke’s bar in Grimsburg. It spluttered, the connection unstable and I knew it would close in just a couple seconds. It was my first ritual, I was overjoyed to see it work, especially under these conditions. Screaming out to the construct I dove into the rift, and it followed me. Then it closed. Darren and my companions had been left behind. In a way I was glad because it gave Zeech’s men no chance to follow us, but I hoped that Darren would be able to away.
We had taken advantage of the situation and had escaped with Zeech’s prize. I would have felt proud of myself if I hadn’t seen a flaw in the plan. Here I was, a soft fleshy humanoid in a room, alone with a giant, metal, man shaped machine built solely for the purpose of killing people. I continued to try to keep the warforged calm. I called one of Victor’s henchmen down to the basement where we had arrived. I immediately sent him to fetch Victor, for he alone would be strong enough to subdue the thing. I waited, remaining in the room with the deadly machine.
I had seen the way my companions had looked at the captive construct, and I was glad I had been able to still deliver him to Grimsburg. They did not understand these things as I did. This was not a person, and it was not truly conscious. It had not been born but built, and it had only been built for one purpose: to kill.
It looked at me with menace in its eyes, and in a cold, lifeless voice showed me his restraints. It asked for me to release its hands as a show of good faith. Being alone with the weapon, I didn’t see any other choice but to undo his bonds, or I truly believe it would have tried to kill me. It had already demonstrated that it was plenty deadly even with restraints. I reasoned that it was the only way to hold him here and that Victor could handle him once he arrived.
Unfortunately Victor sent men, and the first words out of one of their idiot mouths were “We’re here to pick up the prisoner”- it was like Derren had joined me. The construct went from docile to dangerous in an instant, and all his rage was centered on me, his betrayer. Knowing a losing battle when I saw one, I dove out of the room and raced up the stairs. It slashed me across the back with a serrated gauntlet as I fled, but I managed to get away. I then sent all of Victor’s men from upstairs down to re-enforce the fools below. I could hear the sounds of the battle as I left the bar. I later learned that it had cost six of his men, but Victor had his warforged.
In a week or so Derren and company would return. In the meantime, I relaxed in my workshop pouring over archaic texts. The strangest thing was starting to happen. The books were mostly Draconic and sometimes, without looking it up, I was starting to understand the words, even how they were spoken. I wasn’t learning them; they were just showing up in my head. It was in one of these ancient texts that I found the Mark. The book I found was not complete and it did not give me much information. It is a mark of prophecy, one of many. This particular mark translated as the mark of the scribe, showing up on great writers and diplomats. As I am neither I continue to search through the libraries for more information; I need to find out why this mark is on me and more importantly how to get rid of it. As it continues to darken against my skin my fear grows.
