Shattered City Shattered City[Main Event]

[Kasim Areth]

The Spine rumbles. Arethil shakes.

The mountains howl in pain.

Earth and rock explode out from the central peaks of the Spine. Landslides crush entire villages, avalanches bury long surviving keeps, and a mountain itself begins to fall.

Echoes of the past long thought forgotten begin to appear. Mechanical contraptions steal men and women in the night. Whole cities burn and the world that was once thought lost slowly begins form once more...at least in one place.

Portal stones flicker to life anew after the devastation of Pandemonium, and all those who seek their use find themselves brought to one single place; The Shattered City.

Alok-Therak -The Spine


It had been a week since the mountain exploded. A week of complete and utter chaos.

Vorak of Clan Backforge had not seen the like of it in all his three hundred years of life. The Spine itself had been sundered and broken apart into pieces, tons of rock and snow falling on everything within a hundred miles. Villages had been crushed, entire towns had been squashed like they'd never even existed.

Alok-Therak had been spared, though the lake standing besides the small dwarven city had very nearly consumed it. At first Vorak had thought they'd been lucky, that the Ancestors had spared them, then they'd seen it.

The clouds of dust and debris settled. Everything seemed calm, yet as soon as it came into view every man's heart sank. Finding words for it had been impossibly difficult, the majesty of it, the very sight. Where the mountains of the Spine once stood now was a city made of gold and brass. Huge expansive towers seemed to reach into the clouds, grasping further than anything made by man, dwarf, or elf.

It had been a beauty to look at, and some had called the new city a gift from the gods.

That was until the devils came from it.

Not creatures of flesh and blood, not those twisted by the pandemonium. Monsters made of metal and stone. Mechanical contraptions that came and attacked in waves. They killed only those they had to, taking the rest back to the golden city. Those that dared to follow them back were not seen again. Villages left untouched by the destruction were left empty as monsters of metal took them one by one.

Alok-Therak was the closest town to the City of Gold still remaining, it's survival only assured by the high walls and a portal stone once thought long dead.

It had been an oddity at first, people suddenly appearing by a portal stone that had not function for centuries. Yet they had appeared almost as soon as the city had. Merchant's at first, traders and wizards who were using the Portal stones but had found their destination not as they intended. Then as the week passed and word of the disaster spread others came. Warriors, mercenaries, treasure hunters, and even soldiers from foreign nations.

Now Vorak stood on the walls, behind him a city that was stuffed to the brim, ahead of him a road winding towards a city of Gold. Ahead he could see them, bands of adventurers stepping forth to find their doom in a long forgotten city.

OOC:

TL;DR: A gigantic city of gold and brass has exploded out of the mountains of the Spine. Said city is spewing mechanical golems that are collecting people from the local villages and bringing them back to the city. Your goal? Save those people. Explore the City. Find out whats going on. Or maybe just loot and get rich!

FAQ:
How am I getting there: Dozens of new portal stones have activated all around Arethil, all of them are only going to one location; Alok-Therak
What Should I do?: Whatever you want? You can save the kidnapped people, explore the city, Heal the sick, etc. Staff will be throwing story elements in frequently, and there will be things happening all over the city.
Are there major locations: There are, but we will be introducing some as people walk into the city and explore. If we have a location become popular that is made up by you the Roleplayers then we'll be adding that and creating location tags for it.
Any other questions just tag your moderators or admins and they'll happily answer!

Enjoy and have fun!​

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

The Spine.

It was hard to say that there was someone more acquainted with the entirety of it than Arnor Skuldsson. The mountains were easily climbed, and the woes of the people there were easily rectified by the Axe of Knottington. From petty thievery, bandit raids, to monster hunting, Arnor did it all in the Spine.

But unfortunately, he didn't want to go back there. He was nearly to home, when a portal stone appeared, and whisked him away.

Back to the Spine.

Back to where he spent so long getting away from. Years, he spent, conquering this and that, earning all sorts of accolades and coin. But this- was something else. Danger literally spewing forth from a forgotten mechanical monstrosity. People were in danger. Arnor took it upon himself to help, as he always did. Armor across his chest and swords on his back- one silver-laced, and the particular axe of knottington.

With that in mind, Arnor stepped to the newly-formed path, with the hope to find out what happened to the disappeared people. Because at any rate, Arnor would have liked for someone to look for him if he was kidnapped by....

Things. Metal things. Metal things with swords.

 

[Harrier]

THE TUSKY GRIN
HOUSE OF ILL REPUTE
ALOK-THERAK

Tavern, bordello, and mercantile all in one, the Tusky Grin was home to any number of vices both amusing and disgusting. Harrier's first act upon renting an upstairs room had been to reinforce the walls with traditional Elbionese College silence-wards, the kind that students used to ensure they could study in peace. Since then she'd ventured out only to claim and raise the dead, stash them, and send occasional scouts down the road to the unveiled city.

She hadn't gone herself, not yet. A necromancer was not a front-line combat mage by any means. She'd need a solid ally, and she had one on the way: her longtime pen pal Ava Gilleth, the elven elementalist who now sat at the highest levels of the Amol-Kalit Empire. Ava would be here soon. They'd be able to claim a disproportionate amount of whatever spoils or fame could be found in the clockwork city.

In the meantime, Harrier just sat and read books in her silent room as the Tusky Grin served two continents' worth of boisterous soldiers of fortune.

 

[Kara Orin]

THE WET ROPE PUB
HOUSE OF BEER, JUST BEER​

“I SAW THE CITY!”

Bellowed a gauntly looking man at the bar. Blood stained his cloak and hood that hid most his body.

In one corner of the tavern, Kara read reports she acquired the day of. She slowly sipped on a glass of sekanjabin – a drink imported to Aol-Therak due to the multitude of merchants accidentally finding their way to the village. Just as many of the other patrons within the tavern, she lifted her gaze up to see the yelling man.

“THE GOLD IS REALLL! I HAVE PROOOF!” the man continued as the bartender stared at him with a raised brow.

A rather large swordsman approached the ghastly man.

“Gonna have to ask ya to leave if you gonna make a scene,” the swordsman said.

Suddenly, the strange man lifted his arm up. In his hand was a golden scepter-like object less than a meter in length. Runes adorned the rod.

An electric spa͝rk̵ rushed upward from the man’s hand.

 

[denheim]

the road to Alok-Therak

It hadn't been long since the Spine disappeared and he'd arrived in the great Dwarven city via caravan. There was a contract on a certain merchant here - a contract that offered far too much for him to ignore. And so the ancient vampire signed on and joined a bare-boned caravan of merchants and farmers, making their way to the city of Alok-Therak all the way from Thelhara, a small town by the outer fringes of Molthal - spared only from the fire giant's wrath because of some treaty in the distant past. With his target set, the vampire waited with the patience of a very old man as the caravan slowly approached the city.

It should've been a routine thing - target, travel, kill - and nothing more than that. The caravan was well-defended by a band of mercenaries and guards, and no roaming band of bandits or Blight Orcs could've taken them on easily.

Only for it to be nearly wiped out when the men of metal came charging out of the mountains, which - upon closer inspection - no longer resembled the Spine he'd once known. But the vampire had no time to gawk at the golden towers as the metal men forced his hand. Swords were of little use against them, and he found that even his inhuman strength was not enough to rip them apart.

'What the hell are these things made of?!'

He did have a trump card, however, and when the metal men converged upon him, Arathos transformed into his true and monstrous form. With a howl, the wendigo tore through the metal warriors....

 

[Dearien Verook]

THE WET ROPE PUB

Dearian didn't like it. He did like being here. He had had no intention of coming here but it seemed as if the portal stones had a different idea. Anyone who tried to return through the portal stone was just dumped back to the town with a bit of a headache. And those who tried to leave the town through the gates were abducted by those strange metal men.

He had been one of the earlier people to arrive in Alok-Therak but it had quickly become packed as more and more unfortunate people where caught up in the portal stones trap. It had to be a trap, why else would they be malfunctioning like this. First Pandemonium, now mettle men and golden cities.

Dearian slouched at a table in the far corner of the pub nursing a tankard and sulking as he watched everyone. He didn't usually drink, and the beer here was terrible by his standards, but what else was he supposed to do in a situation like this.

A man was yelling about how he had seen the golden city and survived. Dearian didn't really believe him, he was probably just some homeless crazy that the portal stones dredged up. He probably just wanted a free hand out or something. Though he could see some of the alures of a city of gold. Gold was a valuable ingredient in enchantment, that didn't mean he was about to risk his life to get it though. The man pulled out a golden scepter of some kind and Dearien raised a brow. It had runes on it and looked quite valuable. If it was enchanted it was probably a strong enchantment.

Then the man's hand started to spark. Was it an electric enchantment of some kind? He thought, leaning forward in his chair and rubbing his chin as his squinted at the rod. Dearien started and snapped out of it. Nope, bad idea, crazy man with a powerful enchanted mettle stick in a bar full of inebriated people! He thought, ducking under the table.

 

[Szesh]

The Spine had erupted.

The devastation could be seen for leagues as the dark cloud of debris enveloped the high peaks. As he flew closer, Szesh could see more and more detail, and every bit of it sickened him.

He flew over yet another rockslide, a great river of stone that had charged through an alpine forest. It stood like a great gray scar against the green. The trees that lined its path, once tall and immovable, had splintered like matchsticks in its wake.

The air was suffocating, and Szesh squinted his eyes against the tiny particles of grit, dust, and wood that floated in the air. Had the highest peaks not held their shape he would have been quite lost, as all the normal landmarks had been wiped away in the turmoil. Still, he could feel he was headed in the right direction. Perhaps because his scar burned more fiercely by the moment, or perhaps because of an inborn knowledge, he knew it.

He was headed home.

Or at least, to where home had once been. It had been thirty years since his exile. It had felt much longer, though he always knew the exact count. Could still feel the cold eyes upon him, the eyes of those who had been, just a day before, his family.

His wings beat against the sky, carrying him forward. As it had been for the entire journey, he could not say why he flew. It was as if some outside force were compelling him. The punishment for an exile to return was death, and for decades whatever shreds of honor he had left had kept him from breaking that taboo.

But Halzeth had been close to the eruption, and from the accounts Szesh had heard from scouts, its odds were not good. Yet his people did not care for him… why should he care for them? Did he care for them? He pushed such thoughts away. Now was the time to act, not to justify.

There had been no call for aid, but this was not surprising. Draconians preferred their isolation, and no catastrophe would make his village send for help. All the same he felt a dread deep in his chest.

He rounded a cliffside and felt his heart drop. Ahead of him was a great mess of stone and ice. The sturdy rock overhang that had sheltered his village for centuries had collapsed, crushing everything beneath it. As he flew closer, he could see part of the outer defense wall, and the husks of some buildings. He landed, and stared silently.

His home was gone. It had already been taken from him once, so the shock was not so terrible, but he still felt a great loss. And then he saw something that truly broke his heart.

A shimmer to the side. He walked across rubble and picked it up. A large, flat shard. Pearly gray. An eggshell. Next to him was the broken facade of a small building, the interior buried beneath the mountain.

The hatchery. The eggs had not been saved. Had anyone been saved? As if the mountains heard his thoughts, a voice called out.

”{Halt, outcast!}”

The voice was harsh and reptillian, and it spoke in a language Szesh had not heard in a very long time. He turned slowly, fixing his black eyes on the being that stood behind him.

Another draconian. Black scales, red eyes, and pointing a long spear directly at him. Female, although that would have been nearly impossible for a non-draconian to tell. She had seen the mark on his back, she knew what he was. It had been so long since Szesh had seen another one of his kind, and this one he knew. They had not fought together, but they had both been soldiers of their people.

”{Lisshan… how many escaped?}” Szesh answered quietly. It felt good to speak in a comfortable language once more.

Lisshan did not answer, and she still held her spear at the ready. ”{You poison the ground you walk on, Szesh. The punishment for return is death.}” she spat.

Szesh felt the strange feeling of familiarity subside, and anger began to take its place. He gestured at the rubble all around them. ”{Where have I returned to?}” he said, with bitter venom in his voice. ”{Halzeth is gone. I do not trespass.}”

The other curled their lip and snarled, but they lowered their spear. Szesh’s words had bitten deep. Two more draconians had landed behind her, pink and orange. They advanced, but she held up a clawed had to stop them. ” She stared hard at him, seemingly considering whether to speak. {The shield fell quickly when the city rose. Few escaped. The metal demons hunt those that did.}”

Szesh felt a weight fall upon him, much heavier than he had anticipated. He had felt anger and hatred towards this village for so long… and yet he still clung desperately to it. The stones around him, the eggshell in his hand… it all had a terrible finality to it. He did not know of these metal demons, but he had a feeling she would not explain further.

”{You must go.}” Lisshan said firmly. Szesh knew she would not ask again, and he had no desire to slaughter more of his kin. He spread his wings, and bolted into the sky.

He headed for the golden city, rage burning in his breast.

 

[TTamark]

Steve come in a hurry when the city first emerged. He had received a call from one of his farms. The message was not the most concerning: an earthquake, but then they spoke of mountains being launched into the sky, something rising up from the spine, and then their voice ended far too abruptly. This would require Steve's personal attention.

So Steve flew as fast as the undead horse could fly, using many potatoes to speed up the travel. With this Steve had arrived at the farm within the week, but it was too late, the farm was empty. Through the rest of the week Steve found survivors and gathered them in select locations, each with a Potato stone. He did the best he could to look after all that had not yet passed away, or been taken. He told those in his sanctuaries that if trouble came to have the woman and children huddle around the potato stone, and call out to Steve to come save them. The men would have to do their best to defend themselves and the others with their tools till help could arrive. With the communities Steve would spend time creating potato golems to protect them, but it never seemed like he could create enough. Among the communities Steve would occasionally find a person with just enough affinity for magic to be able to tap in. Just enough to be able to warn of incoming weather, or to help heal a wound slightly faster. None would be even looked at for any type of education with such weak abilities. But Steve had them make potato stew for him. With the constant attacks any help healing the wounded would go miles.

The dying did give Steve and advantage when it came to his recruiting however. In this dire situation, when they lied dying, not having the strength to protect their loved ones anymore they were much more willing to deal with the dark promise Steve offered. To do what ever it would take to keep their families and villages safe. After all so what if they lost some memories, Steve promised they would still be themselves, and he even would keep them from looking like undead till after this was over. This man known as Steve wasn't stealing the dead, but offering them life, and after it was over they could continue to live their lives protecting others on these potato farms.

So Steve'd days were full of him flying trying to help protect one of his farms after another. Trying to recruit the living to come to his farms, and the dying to protect them. Sending out those willing to find more survivors, and scout the changes in landscape.

Steve couldn't help, but wonder if he just turned everyone would the machines still want them? Was there a way he could he save even more lives? How long could this last?

 

[Ava Gilleth]

Alok-Therak
The Tusky Grin

The flanks of Ava’s horse were steaming, she’d ridden it hard to the nearest portal stone to Ragash in the wake of receiving the news that the Spine had ruptured. She was not the only one to burst from the city after the news. Ravens had been sent to every corner of the continent to her spies, servants had been sent across Amol-Kalit, sending word to every Vizier that she would be heading there. It was a risk to leave her post, so soon after Gerra had set out on his pilgrimage, but the golden city was worth the risk.

Her gaze was fixed on the mountains as the horse blew heavily beneath her, the golden spires looming high above them. It took a great effort to tear her gaze away, squeezing the horses flanks to push him down the street to find the Tusky Grin. She found it eyeing it and the patrons sliding in and out with great distaste, before opting to stable her horse at a far more reputable place and returning to the tavern on foot.

Ducking inside the door, she pulled her hood down and scanned the raucous room for her pen pal. Though Ava had forgone the rich satin and silk gowns, the travelling clothes she opted to wear were still woven with delicate gold patterns and she bore a delicate chain on her head that made her stand out like a sore thumb. Many gawked. Ava ignored them, pinpointing her target and weaving through the tavern with practised grace. She unhooked her bow as she drew closer, resting it against the table top.

“I can’t say I much like your taste in drinking establishments.” She slid into the chair opposite after making sure there was nothing unpleasant on the seat. She rested her forearms on the table then quickly retracted them upon discovering how sticky it was. She placed her hands in her lap instead. “You have a room here?” she asked, slightly horrified.

Harrier

 

[Focraig'Diin]

He had been getting up, dazed from using a portal stone. He hoped the young girl who was with him had been safely cured in that old one's care. Lord knows he would need help himself, especially with the newest addition to his person. The whispers had already started to be annoying, just like his Mentor so many years before. But if that elder's words held true, he would find out just what these would mean. Rising to his feet, he dusted down what snow clung to his robes, grumbling. The amulet hummed an eerie tune as he inspected it, then huffed.

"Could have lost momentum during the portal. Tsk. and that Nina better be safe, wherever she is."

Stretching his limbs to loosen up the muscles, he then looked up... to behold a gigantic metal... thing over the treetops, built into a mountain and about half its size. Silent, still, and very much armed for war. He spied a hammer on one of its hands. Titan-sized and apparently came out of nowhere. He pinched his cheeks, making sure this wasn't all some dream after crash-landing somewhere, and even flexed his magic for good measure. The familiar sensation of ice running through his veins confirmed he was awake. And the metal thing before him was no damned illusion.

If that old crow's parting shot was to make him take down the bloody thing, count himself out. Magic that incarnated elements aside, he hadn't the output to even scratch the damned thing - and it was coming awake. Oh boy.

The eyes lit in vile, black-yellow lights, and with a creaking and screeching of grinding metal, the monster came to life, the hammer falling upon the earth with a force that threw the ground for a loop, from his perspective. Launched up from the shockwave, he fell flat on his behind as the monster shook free from the mountain it was embedded on. And from the screams he heard, there were villages and people in its sights. Even his own composure had limits when everything started happening at once.

"I will have words with that old crow when I find him."

But not of an angry kind. Who was he, @Traecon?

And the human-sized constructs that came from the forest shadows were privy to a very, very agitated ice mage, who was now heeding the whispers and lessons of an amulet at his side, teaching him a branch of his craft his previous mentor had neglected.

For good measure.

"Hel's Wrath!"

And from his outstretched palm, a frigid beam of pure willpower exploded forth, at a temperature low enough to rupture metal and destabilize its structure. Like a sword it cut through the constructs and the trees, punching through them as if they were but air. Seven had emerged from the forest. He leveled twice the amount of trees in that one outburst. That was lesson one of Destruction Craft.

He breathed cold mist, and felt less drained that he anticipated. Still nigh-dead on his feet, but enough to start heading in the direction of the villages. Hopefully he could find someone capable and willing to evacuate the village or have that metal thing destroyed.

((Kara Orin Forcraig here, is it okay if I introduce this little bigass construct? And have a time attack where either the village evacuates or the big guy crushes the settlement underfoot))

 

[Bethany Inman]

The images of her village being consumed by fire and rock were still fresh in her mind, the screams of the dying rattled round her head. She’d tried to get them off the shore, tried to get them into the safety of the delta, but even that had spat them out, lurching with anger, shattering canoes and dragging her kin out to sea. The gods had taken it all from her, and left her alone to bear the pain. Never before had she questioned herself, her devotion, yet now she did, for the pure and simple fact that she did not know what she had done...what her family had done, to upset them so.

Tamgiha had begged and pleaded with them for insight, for an answer to her pain. All they had given her was glimpses of a golden city, seemingly unreachable. Tamgiha had turned inland, letting her bare feet carry her to wherever she needed to be. She’d come across traders, merchants gabbling about a city risen, about destruction and metal beast's and about the malfunction of portal stones. To her knowledge, the nearest was Belgrath, so to Belgrath she went.

When the portal stone dumped her in Alok-Therak beneath the golden spires, Tamgiha sank to her knees and screamed her fury at it.

 

[James Lanvarok]

The destination had been unexpected, but James was nonetheless content with enjoying a pint of ale in a pub in Alok-Therak. He had spent the afternoon there while he figured out what to do. He sat with his head on the table, the pint in his hand. His wild, wavy hair splayed across the wood, his bottom lip hanging open as he dumbly clicked his tongue. There was another young man sitting across from him (Dearien Verook), or at least, he looked young.

Bloody elves. James could never tell with them.

The Elf appeared to be enjoying his solitude, so James enjoyed his, and didn't make a point of talking to him.

He overheard the ravings of what sounded like a crazy man. He was yelling about a city that had supposedly emerged from the mountains, and that he had gold.

James didn't believe any of it. Just a bunch of crazy shit spouted from the mouth of a drunk. Rolling his eyes, he groaned, and took a long, much needed sip of ale. He sat upright and thumped his hand on the table, his hair flopping in front of his eyes. He had a shave when he arrived, so his face at least looked presentable, but his hair was a ratty mess of tangled waves.

He passed the young Elf a glance, when the crazy man hollered, and lifted his arms high above his head. In his hands was a golden scepter, much like the treasure he had described in his ravings, covered entirely in runes.

"Shit, is that enchanted?!" James suddenly blurted out.

Electrcity sparked from the end of the scepter, confirming his suspicions. Perhaps the rumors of the city held more truth that he had initially thought.

As the man brandished the scepter, James sat back in his chair in surprised. His eyes turned to the size of stars, and he just about spilled his ale. The Elf ducked under the table, but James wasn't quite as frightened. Part of him didn't think the scepter was that powerful, and he thought the man a fool. An eyebrow raised, he stared at the man, unimpressed, his top lip turned up.

More electricity flew. Eyes shifting, James took a swig of ale, then thumped his pint on the table. He slowly got off his chair and leaned down, then poked his head under the table. The maddened torrent of emotions from the man seeped into James and his instinct to hide kicked in. He was deluded, and James' senses told him he had been affected by something. Something real.

"Hey bud, that thing about the city, is it true?" He asked the Elf.

BZZTT!

A spark of electrcity flew off the end of the man's scepter and hit the roof.

Ope!

"Faaacck!" James half-slurred and half-screamed.

He leaped back and grasped his hair, ducking as smoke trailed from the roof. Maybe the Elf dude had the right idea. Muttering frantically, James got on his knees and crawled under the table, then met the Elf face to face.

"That thing's enchanted!" He exclaimed, looking at the scepter.

More sparks flew, and he grabbed his head and ducked, then looked up at his fellow. "You know anything about enchantments?" He cocked his head to the side and asked, an eyebrow raised.

 

[Selene Avar]

Alok-Therak - Portal Stone

Selene stood with a dozen Anirian Guardsmen just behind Tamgiha, her gaze falling on the screaming woman with features of utter disgust.

Have some decorum. The Dreadlord thought to herself with a shake of her head as she motioned to the guardsmen. The magic of the Portal Stones was not one that she had studied, though she knew it well enough to presume what had happened.

The stone here in Alok-Therak was working as an exit gate, and she and her men had likely activated their own stone near Vel Anir at the same time as this woman.

Their coinciding arrival was mere coincidence, made all the more likely by the fact of the phenomenon going on with the Golden City that now looming within the mountain. Her lips thinned as she gazed upwards towards the glowing spires, her face darkening.

"Dreadlord. Should we attempt to find lodging?"​

Selene glanced at one of the Knights who spoke. She wished that she could have taken more than a dozen with her, but the magic of the Portal Stones was a dangerous one with too many people, and this had been the quickest force she could assemble on short notice.

Undoubtedly Vel Anir would send more, but her task here was clear. "No need. We head for the city."

There was no point in waiting here, particularly if...she glanced at the screaming woman, this would be her company.

 

[Dearien Verook]

Dearien started as the other man crawled under the table his face stopping inches from his own, those vibrant blue eyes staring at him as the man shouted about enchantment. Dearien scrambled further under the table, both to make room for the other man and to get him out of his personal space.

Dearien blinked and peered out from under the table at the man with the scepter. "Yeah, I know about enchantments. I'm an enchanter. That thing looks like it could be pretty powerful if it was enchanted by a skilled mage. The materials are good enough and the craftsmanship is quality. Besides those ruins would add to the strength of the enchantment, though ruins were never my forte." He looked back at James and shrugged jumping as there was another pop zap from the scepter and another bolt of electricity and a chair was flipped over scorched and smoking. The other patrons all started shouting and a commotion broke out but Dearien was no longer paying attention. He rubbed his chin musing. I wonder where he got that thing. It's pretty powerful, probably difficult to control. if I could- nope, bad idea. That's from the city, where the metal death people are. But then again how do they move? It must be some kind of enchantment. Maybe I could learn how to make a better leg if I could just- nope, nope, nope, not doing that, metal death people remember. He shook his head shuddering at the thought of being disassembled by a bunch of metal men as they tried to figure out how he moved.

 

[Harrier]

THE TUSKY GRIN
HOUSE OF ILL REPUTE

“I can’t say I much like your taste in drinking establishments.” She slid into the chair opposite after making sure there was nothing unpleasant on the seat. She rested her forearms on the table then quickly retracted them upon discovering how sticky it was. She placed her hands in her lap instead. “You have a room here?” she asked, slightly horrified.

Harrier

"Alok-Therak's a small city, large town. Right now it's got three or four times as many residents as it did last week. It was this or a tent." Harrier cracked her neck. "I'm excessively ready to get on the road. I have a couple of dozen undead - some fresh and local, some skeletons I packed for transit." A warrior's skeleton, sword and all, weighed no more than thirty pounds and could pack up quite compactly. You could fit a lot of them in a cart small enough to fit inside a portal stone's area of effect. "I assume you brought guards of your own?"

Ava Gilleth

 

[Mabess]

For any native of the spine, what the land had come to was nothing short of a disaster.
Those who guarded the old portal stone that had appeared during pandemonium returned to their post in anticipation. But there was no mist, no gale, no unnatural disturbance, nor any demons.
Just the violent shaking of the earth that could not be so easily explained away.
Of course, they also didn't see a reason to pass through the magical stone if it at least appeared to be fine.

The construction work on their town, however, had gone awry. Some minor accidents, but enough to raise alarm among the higher-ups between the Ashlanders.

In the woods.
»Do you think this is connected in any form or way?« Mabess sat on one of the loose rocks that littered the hillside.

»I think so, some outriders reported of glistening tips that rose through the peaks of the mountains not much after the earthquake.«
»-allies from Creeping-river also mentioned bout some 'whistling metal demons' taking away folk. Some may have been other orcs too...Possibly from our allies no less.« Some other she-orc growled.

Mabess tapped her knee, her gaze shifting to some blackhawks that eagerly awaited to run out.
»That's concerning, we've not heard from anyone but the Creeping-river, they may be in danger.«

 

[Ava Gilleth]

Ava nodded, rising from her chair. "They should be coming through the portal now." She'd not been patient enough to wait for them, but she had little doubt of their ability or loyalty. A dozen hand picked Immortals from the Madrassa to be her personal guard. They would throw themselves on their own swords for Gerra and any of the Viziers in turn.

Ava led the way out of the tavern and onto the busy street, eyes drawn upwards to the golden spires above onve more. Never in her lifetime had she heard of such a city, let alone seen one. "You've been here longer, any theories?" She asked her companion as they drew closer to the portal stone and the guard that waited for her.

Harrier

 

[Harrier]

Ava Gilleth

"I spent, oh, fifteen years at the College of Elbion, in the finest library in the world. Even there, the Age of Legends and other ancient eras are a matter of speculation. My ultimate goal here is to find and bind a soul as old as that city - get a true firsthand account from far beyond recorded history."

Two dozen assorted undead were waiting outside the walls, under cover of hillside brush. For the moment, Harrier was more or less alone with Ava and her guards, here at the bustling portal stone where everything and everyone was innocuous. A steady flow of confused or angry or excited travelers rushed out from the stone at regular and quick intervals. Many headed straight for the gold-and-bronze city. Harrier found it expedient to follow their example.

 

[Ava Gilleth]

The guard fell in step around them without a word from Ava, the efficiency of it made her smile. She really had to congratulate Uvogin at his handiwork. The elf scanned the people around them spotting the back of the familiar head of Selene Avar not too far in front of them.

She graced Harrier with a smile, the difference in their schooling never ceased to grant her a greater insight to the possibilities she had yet to explore. "Interesting. Officially, I'm here to see what can be learned that mighy benefit the Empire. Personally, I want to know more about these metal men...and how to control them. I've been playing around with a combination of clay and metal to create creatures I can use as eyes and ears across the continent. Thus far the results have been dissapointing, I'm hoping that i can get some insight."

 

[Harrier]

Ava Gilleth

"That's a strong goal. I've got no doubt you'll achieve it. And, of course, anyone with the power to control these constructs can write their own ticket."

They passed outside the town's walls. Harrier's undead, mostly skeletons, joined up wordlessly apart from the occasional "huaarrrgh." Whether Ava's troops were comfortable with marching alongside the dead was entirely up to them, and the woman who'd brought them halfway around the world. Other travelers very much gave them a wide berth.

"There's a decent amount of power invested in each of these," Harrier said. "All done over the course of months, a bit at a time, piecemeal. They aren't just guards, they're sacrifices if necessary. Give them up and there's no soul I can't bind."

 

[Szesh]

The city only grew more massive as he approached. It could rival the peaks around it in size, but the sheer detail of the structure was overwhelming. Golden spires were crisscrossed with tubes and chains. Great plumes of steam and smoke were belched from all sides. At the right angle, the reflections were blinding.

Who had built such a thing? It could not be of the gods. The city was too… modern. The gods had no use for steam toys and metal towers, but what mortal beings could have created this?

Truthfully, it did not matter. Szesh was not known for his emotional complexity or self-awareness. Feeling such great loss over a village that had very clearly disowned him was confusing. He did not like to be confused, and so it turned effortlessly to anger. Anger was simple. Whomever had built the city and had caused its sudden emergence, they were responsible. And they would all die.

The air around the city was warmer, and Szesh was buoyed up on the rising thermals. The towers rippled through distorted air currents, and looking down Szesh could see that the snow had melted off of some of the towers. Whatever gave this city life was generating plentiful heat.

He heard a shrill whistle. Steam forced through metal, and it cut through the air like a cold knife. Before he could figure out what caused it, a glimmer of gold streaked past him. Szesh banked hard, and saw another bolt fly towards him.

Ballista fire. He had been spotted.

He dived, folding his wings and plummeting to the ground. He could hear the bolts whistling through the air after him. Their aim was good. Impossibly good. He flew as irregularly as he could: up and down, weaving from side to side. He had to get to the ground, though. This was as far as the air would take him.

He could see smoke rising from a settlement some small distance from the great city. It would have to do, and he flew as low as possible over the treetops.

The ballista-fire stopped shortly thereafter, and Szesh landed heavily outside the city walls. He stayed crouched for a time, heavy breaths fogging the air. When he looked up he saw far more people than he had expected. The settlement was not small but the people still packed into it. Travellers drawn to the golden goliath, no doubt.

And, lucky for him, armies. He saw a small host of soldiers standing some distance away, near a portal stone, surrounding two women, and another separate group surrounding a third. It was clear he could not storm the city on his own, but Szesh was a bounty hunter and mercenary by trade. Perhaps they would accept his services. His presence tended to intimidate smaller beings, but it was seen as a boon in times of violence.

And lucky for them, this time his services would be free, provided that they did not interfere with his own personal murder-mission.

Harrier Ava Gilleth Selene Avar

 

[TTamark]

Apparently there was a normal living town somewhat nearby yet. But there was also supposedly a large amount of people exiting the town and heading to the anomaly. So how were they getting into the town? Steve patted the rat, and gave it a slice of potato which it accepted excitedly. That town likely had a portal stone, though one he had never heard of before. Maybe it was similar to the Pandemonium incident. Either way if Steve wanted to get in to the anomaly this would be his best chance. Still he couldn't help, but shudder remembering the Pandemonium incident, he did not want to experience anything like that again.

Steve would get over to that town immediately, but it would likely be wise to avoid using anything too provocative, as he had learned back in Elbion. So Steve announced to the villages/his farms that he would be uniting with others so that they could push back against the mechanical threat. This meant that for the time being it would be up to each farm to protect themselves until he would return.

So Steve packed up his cart with a massive pot of stew, he hooked up to it some cows allowing the cows to pull beside their best friends. Steve called some of the potato golems to himself, leaving what would hopefully be enough to defend the farms. Finally Steve hooked the cows up to feed bags that would allow the cows the energy to make expedient travel.

As long as Ava Gilleth and Harrier had not lost their senses of smell, and hearing they would have become known to Steve's presence long before he came into sight. With the scent of potato stew somehow thickly being carried through the air, and the sound of cow bells ringing franticly, and the laughter, oh the laughter, it rang loud and true the sound of complete merriment, of a man having the time of his life. This is how Steve approached trying his best to stay standing upright as he stood upon his cart being pulled at breakneck speeds by cows, being chased by his potato golems just trying to keep up. The scene finally ending with the cart drifting to a stop creating a large dust cloud. The sudden stop causing Steve to fall over the side rail. He quickly got to his feet again and turned to the pair shooting finger guns,

"Harrier, we meet again, mind if I crash this party? HEHEHEHEHEHE, HI!"

Szesh

 

[Ava Gilleth]

Ava's guard were not at all comfortable at being joined by a small horde of undead, hands moved nervously to their swords their eyes watching the vizier for instructions, but when she did nothing but eye them with interest, most of them relaxed a little. There were one or two, still scarted from the eventa of the coronation that remained on edge and who could really blame them?

"Fascinating. Certainly a good way to make power portable. I admit I-" she was cut off by a terrible noise. Clanging of cow bells, raucous laughter and a cart that slid to a halt spitting its single passenger out next to them who scrambled up without an ounce of decorum.

"Harrier, we meet again, mind if I crash this party? HEHEHEHEHEHE, HI!"

Ava had nothing, no words, just a mixed look of surprise and quite possibly horror. She turned her eyes slowly from the man who smelt strongly of potato stew, to the golems that were still running to catch him up, and finally settling on Harrier.

Harrier Szesh

 

[denheim]

So many....

There could've been hundreds of the metal men, each of them dragging behind hapless scores of peasants and townsfolk - straining and struggling against the nets in which they'd been bound and tied to be dragged somewhere. The metal men were capturing the people, irregardless of race and profession; he could see both warrior and peasant, being dragged along in nets made not of rope. The vampire stood and contemplated his next course of action; of course he wanted to rescue these people from an unknown fate at the hands of these....automatons, and yet he'd already been quite expedient with his powers - Arathos had not fed on anyone for three days, after all, and his powers now were quite limited. He also wanted to find out just exactly what the metal men had planned for the people.

Decisions decisions...

The vampire chuckled; there really wasn't much of a choice, was there? 'Not much blood, I have to do this fast...'

He eyed the metal men and counted. 'Twenty....'

With that in mind, Arathos morphed back into his Wendigo form and lept out of the trees, surprising the automatons as they barely had time to react as the ancient vampire cut down at least five of them in rapid succession. However, the metal creatures were quick to react to the vampire's assault - regrouping and forming a battle-line against the monster that was threatening to kill every last one of them. Several of the townsfolk desperately screamed in their bounds - having recently been captured by monsters of metal, and now there was a monster of blood and shadow.

Arathos ignored their cries for help and mercy as he rushed towards the metal men - fifteen of them were left standing by his estimation. He rushed forth, summoned a blood clone, and sent it to charge at the automatons as he melded into the shadows and disappeared. The metal men stood guard as the blood clone rapidly approached, their shields and swords steadier than any mortal army could've been at the face of a raging monster. As the clone stepped within striking distance, however, it dissipated into a massive cloud of blood, obscuring their vision.

Arathos wasn't entirely sure he could take on all fifteen of them; regardless of the diversion and obfuscation he'd performed, these metal men were not exactly weak combatants. Still, he had to ensure the safety of these people, who were probably more afraid of him than they were of the automatons. In the silence that followed, the ancient vampire materialized behind the automatons and pounced.

 

[Kara Orin]

AMOL-THERAK ​

Those that paid attention to the gauntly man ooh’d and awwh’d at the sight of the sparking scepter.

“THERE IS TREASURE EVERYWHERE!” the man continued.

Dearian and James sat at a table between Kara and the crazed man. Or at least used to until they took cover underneath their table.

Instead of doing the same, Kara kept staring at the artifact. Her eyes widened as she studied the runes.
“Oh, no…” Kara muttered, loud enough for the elf and Aniran to hear.

“I KNOW THE WAAAY-“

CRACK

Another discharge of electricity followed from the scepter. This time, the arcs traveled halfway up the man’s forearm and appeared to harm him. The golden rod fell to the ground with a ding. It no longer arced and sparked with life as it just did.

Most of the patrons within the bar remained silent just after that.

The large swordsman, still next to the madman, asked, “What was all tha-“

The sound could be heard throughout all of Alok-Therak.

The giant golem that Focraig’Diin saw approached the city. It stretched four stories into the air – a mountain of a construct, essentially. The colossal golem wielded a gigantic war hammer. Runes adorned the automoton’s “collar” and arms.

The ground in Alok-Therak shook with each step as the golem grew closer to the town. It came from the City of Gold in a roundabout way. Those leaving toward the city would have likely missed seeing such a large construction.

The golem would attack anyone and anything that got within its hammer's reach as it marched toward Alok-Therak.

Dearien Verook Focraig'Diin James Lanvarok Tamgiha