Shattered City Shattered City[Main Event]

[Zarko]

When the golem reached back to punch forward Zarko also reflexively clutched Raigryn Vayd by his coat. He shared a brief look with Fife and ran a mental calculation on how this loss of reputation would impact his bottom line. A fatalistic sigh escaped from his lips.

"Stand back everyone! The Magnificent Zarko is here to protect-"

He never got a chance to finish. Before he could fully raise his hand to cast a man sized chunk of stone wall plucked him out of the conversation. It sent him reeling both through and out the back of the pub wall. Zarko groaned. He yanked the scalding force bracelet off his wrist, its usefulness forever expunged after absorbing such a massive kinetic blow.

The ruin formerly known as the Wet Rope Pub had kicked up an awful smoke cloud during its collapse. He stumbled blindly forward, avoiding the chaos of a town under assault through a mixture of luck and his diminutive gnomish frame. That luck wasn't bound to last forever. He was looking for the portal stone, instead he found a towering monstrosity looming before him.

Zarko sent a hail of luminous arcane missiles into the golem. His weak bolts plinked harmlessly off its armor, but he did not witness the massive spikes do their work (Focraig'Diin) and so it gave the impression his magic stunned the giant in its tracks.

Kara Orin Belduhr Brighthand Quoril James Lanvarok Dearien Verook​

 

[Fynaurie]

Aifrin

Land. There.

The hand signals used by the avelion were simple, sweeping gestures. They were easy to follow from a distance. They were also absolutely necessary to communicate in the air. The eagles could call to one another and they understood elvish, but the elves could never quite follow quite what the eagles calls meant.

They drifted down towards the mountains, finding a ridge hundreds of meters above the city. There was a lot going on far below them. Not something to dive into. The dwarves seemed to be carrying a huge statue back into their own city.

"I need volunteers to scout..."

Fynaurie already had a hand up.

"...down below."

 

[Aifrin]

Fynauria

The signal was given and the slow descent wad agonizing for both bird and rider as they gathered on the ledge to discuss what was to be dpne next. They asked for volunteers to scout, and Fynauria beat Aifrin to the punch.

A wide smile appeared as she too raised her hand, Birin not so excited by the prospect of his riser being alone in a dangerous place with a small chirp to her.

 

[Szesh]

A smile, so she shared the same goal? The giant attacking the city didn’t phase her, and this again showed a hint of her power.

Szesh set off alongside the red-eyed woman. Her guards still seemed less than enthusiastic about his presence, but so long as she did not object outright he was content to loosely ally himself. She did not speak idly. Perhaps when each one of your words carries so much weight, it pays to keep them sparse.

This suited him. Speaking the common tongue left a strange feeling in his mouth. His teeth always seemed to get in the way, and his lips lacked the motion needed for clear enunciation. He made do, of course, but he could not shake his strong reptillian accent.

They continued for a time, passing a group that filled Szesh’s nostrils with the scent of... stew? Something earthy and rich. It was not unpleasant, but it was unexpected.

When Selene Avar spoke, it was straight to the point. He hummed a gravelly sigh, recalling how he had been repelled from the city. ”I came closer by sky...” he began, ”...but defenses are strong. Could not pass the ballista.” He drew in his wings just a hair’s width as he recalled the experience. He could still feel the hot metal rushing past him. ”Their aim was... precise.”

Impossible was a better description. Szesh had assaulted a handful of fortresses by air. Most archers were trained to hit ground targets from afar, and had little skill for an attack from above. Elven longbow archers were the most skilled he had encountered, so much so that he preferred a stealthy ground approach for them. But whoever, whatever, had manned the golden ballista made the elves look as children with sticks.

Nearby - Harrier , TTamark , Ava Gilleth, Tamgiha

 

[Harrier]

"Sounds like you've been busy, then," Harrier said with a blandness profound enough to be the audible equivalent of drying paint. In truth she never quite knew how to handle someone as chatty as Willsson. Fortunately his attention shifted to Ava Gilleth. Shooting her friend the tiniest little 'better you than me' smile, she and the dead kept walking. Lacking a voicebox was one of their few charms.

This branch of the path grew rougher, less trodden, less defined as they approached the city. Broken rock decorated cracked hillsides, the marks of the city's rise a week ago. The occasional body suggested this route wasn't especially safe. She opted not to raise them. Instead she just listened for scraps, whispers - ghosts - as she picked up bits of clockwork golems.

"They're killable," she said, half to herself, "but I think they drag back the broken ones. Repair or spare parts."

The path bent through a narrow gorge and ran up against an intricate brass wall. Harrier sucked her teeth and thought about it.


TTamark

 

[Quoril]

“I’m Quoril” he said as he stood up and followed the other two towards the exit. The elf knew that sticking around was dangerous, but he agreed with James - he had to see the golem with his own eyes.

As they neared the door, the tavern seemed to explode as large chunks of stone burst through the ceiling. Quoril dove under the closest table and crawled from table to table until he could get out the door.

Quoril stared in awe at the metal colossus standing behind the town’s wall. The bright sunlight gleamed off its body and steam erupted in a massive cloud from its back. The elf was paralyzed by the combination of amazement and fear. “If we are all on the same page I suggest we don't stick around to find out what that thing wants.” The sound of Dearin’s voice snapped Quoril out of his trance.

“You’re right. Let’s go!” Quoril shouted, waving to his two companions and sprinting down the street away from the golem.

James Lanvarok
Dearien Verook

 

[James Lanvarok]

As James scrambled to his feet, he noticed the young Elf only had one leg. He reached out, and thought about offering to help, but he seemed to be managing fine on his own. The ground shook, wrenching the tavern from its' foundations. Dust and rubble rained around the heads of James and the other two young men. Hands held above his head, he shielded himself from the rocks that were falling, while he caught the names of his companions.

Once Dearien had finished putting on his new prosthetic, James, Quoril and himself ran out the pub. Rubble crashed down, smashing the pub behind them.

James leaped up, startled by the crash. The golem smashed Alok-Therak's wall with its' hammer and emerged into view. Runes encircled its neck, it's legs as wide as the height of a person. James stared, eyes wide at the gargantuan creation.

"Shit!" He cried.

As Quoril yelled for them to get out of there, James spun around and ran down the street with Dearien and himself.

 

[Fife]

Her fright was tempered momentarily when she wasn't the only person grabbing Raigryn. She looked up in surprise at the child-sized man looking back at her. She had never seen small folk before. He looked startled and jumped back, but whatever he was saying got lost as the golem's hammer struck the wall.

Debris peppered them, a few fist-sized lumps at the worst, but the larger missed them by a narrow stroke of luck that was obviously not shared by everyone. The small man was gone and the pub that had been so carefree and jovial just a handful of minutes prior was caving in.

Fife gave the golem one more look and insistently tugged at Raigryn's coat. They couldn't just stand there! This thing was four times as big as the one they'd fallen in the hidden city. They had been forced to fight that one out of necessity. Standing in front of this one was madness or stupidity. Somebody was trying to fight the thing, but she sure wasn't.

She looked up at the dwarf and, in spite of her reluctance to see him, pulled Raigryn toward the familiar face. Or tried to, anyways. The golem took another step forward and the ground shook hard enough to knock Fife off her feet.

// Raigryn Vayd // Belduhr Brighthand // Zarko //​

 

[Focraig'Diin]

His eyes regained focus enough for him to focus on recovery, as his veins thrummed with icy power. He felt emptier than ever, not of reserves, but of emotions. Cold logic would have dictated his motions, much like the metal golems laying scattered around them and towards the shattered wall. But he was not. He learned better, and properly. Coughing up more frozen blood in specks of crimson ice, he forced himself to his feet with sheer will, as numbness spread through his legs. The blood vessels there seemed to have contracted to the point the nerves were almost dead.

Noted. But irrelevant.

His hand still on the earth, maintaining his own footing, he turned to the woman beside him, recognizing her thanks to a random flashback to an encounter in the College of Elbion. Lithomancy, if he recalled correctly. How timely.

But the giant golem at the outskirts would not stay still, and he would have to correct that as well. The wall was already broken, but the spikes he had placed at the monster's foot would hopefully keep it at bay for a few more minutes. Damn thing was already halfway free, but he was being optimistic. Eyes still gleaming, like a shrouded blue moon eclipse, he dispelled the dome construct into specks of black snow, falling like the dust around them.

He noted the piece of wood embedded on his left leg, the size of a spoo - it was a wooden spoon. How that had stuck in his leg of all things would plague him later. Pulling it out and freezing the wound, he turned to tend to the woman.

"Get up, we haven't time to - "

And with a another crack, Forcraig felt that optimism die a horrid death, as the giant broke free of its restraints to finally march upon the city. All that garnered physically was a twitch of his left eye, a commendable show of annoyance from the absolutely infuriated ice mage. If he had dedicated his efforts to pyromancy instead of his ice magic, he would be literally ablaze with apoplectic rage.

Conveniently, intense emotions did wonders for willpower.

The wounded in this wrecked building would wait. He had a giant to crush.

((Kara Orin ))

 

[Selene Avar]

The Golden City Wall - South
Close - Szesh Coming- Harrier | TTamark | Ava Gilleth

Selene listened to the Draconian just as they entered the gorge which lead to the wall surrounding the golden city.

As soon as he mentioned Ballista Selene could see them mounted high upon the towers and sticking from the walls. She could not see what lay behind them, if indeed there was anything at all. Lips thinned as she raised her hand to call for a stop.

Her gaze flickered back behind them towards the other group that held Ava Gilleth.

There was no familiarity with the others, but she thought it foolish to move ahead as two groups when they could combine their powers. As she waited for them to catch up, she motioned to one of her scouts. He was a fast man, dressed only in leathers.

She leaned into him and whispered.

The scout offered a quick salute, then quickly headed forward.

He moved lithely, like a mongoose rushing through a field of rocky crags. He bounded over fallen boulders and moved through the gorge. A watchmen would not have seen him coming, his clothes blending into the rock and his movements so lithe they would not have been noticed.

Yet as soon as he came within a rock throws distance of the wall, four heavy ballista suddenly turned. Mechanical cranking could be heard, and then all four fired at once.

Great arrows of metal flew free from their perch, all four striking the ground at once. Debris and dust raised up from the impact, though it was the scream that caught Selene's attention. Her lips thinned, and when the dust cleared she saw her scout impaled through the chest.

"Hm." Was the only noise she made.

Her gaze shifted to the Draconian, then back to the walls. "Perhaps a tunnel?"

She offered, though it was less of a question and more of a statement. The words came as she bent her fingers, and then suddenly a massive section of rock before them suddenly began to melt away. It pooled into magma, and then pushed down into the earth on a gradual incline.

Magic flowed from her, pushing the tunnel and forging their path into the golden city.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

Wet Rope Gang

Belduhr Brighthand Zarko Fife


Detritus was strewn across this section of the city. Clouds of dust rose and stone structurea built to last the ages crumbled.

Raigryn coughed and spluttered, but he managed to grasp Fife tightly by his tunic and keep him on his feet. He followed Fife's lead towards the familiar dwarf.

"The mighty Zarko might save his magic for a better opportunity," he continued to cough out.

Raigryn was usually subtle with his Empathy. It had a terrible reputation these days. The 'emotional vampires' having been driven from all renowned schools. This was not a time for subtlety.

He reached out and drew from the fear around him. The raw form of Misery coiled and lashed out within him. His hands trembled as he wrangled with its influence, using every ounce of will to bend and shape it into and Aspect he could use.

Those nearby would feel the edge taken off their fear as he drew sharply.

Now he needed an opportunity to release it.

 

[Dearien Verook]

Dearien didn't waste time. He broke into a sprint. With the new prosthetic he had no trouble keeping up with the other two, bearly skipping a beat even when the ground shook with the steps of the mechanical man. As they ran, Dearien glanced around frantically for someplace to take cover but if that thing was able to fling rocks that could knock down buildings then nowhere was safe. And If they left the city there were the patrols of smaller golem's to worry about. It wasn't safe inside the city and it wasn't safe outside. He wasn't any good at fighting, he didn't even carry anything one would consider a traditional weapon.

He sucked his breath in through his teeth, breathing heavily. His lungs started to burn. He was not used to sprinting. His legs might be able to keep up but his lungs were struggling. He started to fall behind. Dropping behind the wall of a nearby building he stopped to catch his breath. Some cover was better than none. Strange, one would think he would feel more terrified in a situation like this. Not that he was complaining the clarity of thought was a relief.

"Hey, guys, wait, what's the plan?" He called out to the others between heavy breaths. "We can choose to deal with lots of small ones or one big one, take your pick," He said as he recovered his breath.

 

[Belduhr Brighthand]

His question was soon answered however with the swing of a hammer and the flinging of debris from the destruction of a wall and the tavern itself. Had he been as unlucky as the significantly smaller fellow as he had spied just a moment before, he might have regretted sorely the thought of coming here.

As it was, he was more curious than wary. The debris had smacked and bounced off of him and his beard. He blinked and squinted as the dust settled and found himself holding onto the young lass from before.

"I believe it is time to relocate." Belduhr spoke quietly. Still shocked from the sight of the golem so readily swinging such a large weapon with ease.

 

[Fife]

She gasped, but instead of eating gravel, she came to a jerking halt midair and was hoisted up to get her feet under her once more. Fife looked back sheepishly at Raigryn, but led him to the dwarf. Pressing through the clouds of dust, she stumbled on hunks of debris in their path, but made it to the dwarf.

Who, much like Raigryn, was frustratingly calm. She grabbed his sleeve and he grabbed her back. As the dust cleared, he suggested that they move, and Fife agreed. Whether they were running or stopping to turn and try stalling the golem (probably the latter, unfortunately) they needed vantage.

Feeling the draw of an Empath, she looked back at Raigryn and opened her mental barriers. She let him tap her Misery, and felt the edge of her fear blunted. He could have it; it would have a far stronger use in his hands than it would clouding her mind.

Before he could use it, though, they needed to be out from in front of this thing -- preferably before it got a notion to use that hammer again. It had yet to deviate from its straight path, moving steadily toward the tavern for whatever reason. She tugged at Belduhr's sleeve. The dust was clearing and the street was more visible again, and Fife was stumbling a lot less.

// Raigryn Vayd // Belduhr Brighthand //​

 

[Quoril]

Quoril also stopped, putting his hands on his knees coughing, struggling to catch his breath. What was the plan? The elf hadn’t really come up with a plan and instead had just started running.

“Didn’t really have a plan,” Quoril confessed. “Personally, I would rather take my chances against an army of small ones than try to take on the giant. If it were up to me, we would fight our way out of this town and try to find that city of gold.”

“What do you guys think we should do?” Quoril asked, straightening back up.


James Lanvarok
Dearien Verook

 

[TTamark]

Steve took on a touch of a hurt demeanour when Ava did not greet him back and remained silent, but quickly recovered as he turned back to Harrier,

"Well you never told me she was as quiet as mouse in your grain stores. It is all good I have met many a shier critter than this hear gal, why just a few weeks ago..."

The sound of the heavy ballistas caused Steves attention to shoot towards the wall and the party before them.

"Looks like we might have more important matters than manners now... And yes to say I have been busy would be an understatement."

Steve hopped upon his cart shooting Harrier a wink, before with a slight gesture of his head his cows picked up their speed, Steve already throwing his head back laughing. Steve's eyes scanned the walls carefully searching for any threat that may suddenly appear, before dropping down on the party before him. With a smile on his face and a chuckle in his voice he greeted them,

"HEHE, Hello strangers..."

Harrier Ava Gilleth Selene Avar Szesh

 

[James Lanvarok]

James started to slow down as he ran, his heart and lungs strained with exertion. He struggled to keep up with the others, when he noticed Dearien and Quoril slowing down as well. Gasping for breath, he pulled himself around the wall of a building where Dearian had stopped. He keeled over, then placed his hands on his thighs, puffing and panting.

"Goddamn," he gasped, "I'm too fat for this." With a hefty groan, he grabbed his water flask off his belt and just about chugged the whole thing.

James felt a nearby empath draw his fear. Lowering his defenses, he allowed him to take it, and it was just as well, as the fear of Dearien and Quorial was beginning to press him. Breathing in, he exhaled and allowed his fear to depart, tapping into the unease and panic of Quoril and Dearien as he did so. He kept it buried within his resolute, to be used when they took on the metal soldiers.

Dearien asked the others if they had any idea of a plan, to which Quoril suggested that they take on the smaller golems rather than the large one, and James agreed. Brow creased, he cupped his chin and thought about what they could each do with the skills they had. He had his crossbow, but he he figured that wouldn't do any good against monsters made of metal.

They would be better off using magic.

"Yeah, I think Quoril's right, we should take on the small ones," James nodded as he attached his flask back to his belt.

"I'm not about to get squashed by some bigass metal dude." Taking one look over his shoulder, he jumped as the giant golem planted its foot in the middle of the city. Tempting as it was, they simply didn't have the tools to take on the giant golem, and James was eager to see the city of gold.

Standing at his full height, James passed a glance between Quoril and Dearien, wondering what kinds of magic they could use to help. He held out a hand and started to snap his fingers, combusting small bursts of air to make flames. His pyromancy and aerokinesis would come in handy, as well as his knowledge of joints and parts. Muttering aloud to himself, he continued to practice casting fire, then turned to look at Dearien.

"You said you were an enchanter, what do you make of those things? You reckon they can be weakened with fire or explosions?" He asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Hey, what do you practice?" He asked Quoril.

"I'm good with fire and air." Nodding, he cupped his chin and raised an eyebrow in contemplation, trying to piece together a plan for how they could go about combating the metal soldiers. "Because I'm thinking we could dissipate their joints to make them fall apart, or just blow them up," James chuckled, shrugging with the suggestion.

 

[Fynaurie]

High above the city

Vaxor spread his great wings, catching the wind on his feathers. One step, a beat of those wings and a push and they were airborne.

"Take us down slowly," she called to Vaxor. With her bone goggles shielding her eyes from the sun, she had to turn her head to see Birin and Aifrin take off.

She liked Aifrin. She was a free spitit like herself and a willing participant in their griping sessions about the regimented dragoons life.

Yet which other group among their people ranged so far from home regularly. This was as far north as she had ever come.

They were specks in the sky above the golden city, but they were slowly circling lower.

 

[Harrier]

UNDER THE CITY WALLS

She offered, though it was less of a question and more of a statement. The words came as she bent her fingers, and then suddenly a massive section of rock before them suddenly began to melt away. It pooled into magma, and then pushed down into the earth on a gradual incline.

Magic flowed from her, pushing the tunnel and forging their path into the golden city.

Without hesitation, Harrier and her undead followed Selene Avar and Szesh into the sweltering-hot tunnel. It seemed the most practical way past the walls by far. She glanced back to see whether Ava Gilleth and Willsson (TTamark) were coming into the tunnel as well.

In short order the tunnel smelled like a combination of burnt rock and dead things, some fresher than others. Harrier had her share of experience with terrible odors, but this particular circumstance had an unforgettable stink.

Hopefully the red-haired mage would bring her tunnel back up to the surface shortly. They might come under immediate attack and need cover. That was, in part, what the undead were for.

 

[Kara Orin]

ALOK-THERAK
BIG BOI GOLEM​

After the building collapsed, Kara coughed up a bit of dust. She was still alive – crouched under a wooden construct of her own magical making. It provided some protection from the collapsing roof.

As Focraig’Diin told her, Kara slowly got up. Her eyes blinked rapidly to get rid of any dirt. She panned her head around and saw the giant golem first. Then, she scanned over the debris of the Wet Rope Pub.

No sight of the scepter.

Fury

Before Focraig’Diin managed to run off too far, Kara bellowed with, “Where’s the control rod?!”

---

The town’s bells continuously rang. Vorak of Clan Backforge began to summon any and all guards he could toward the massive golem. Several passed by James, Quoril, and Dearien. James’ light show caught the eye of a few guards, but they kept moving toward the Wet Rope Pub.

---

Meanwhile, the colossal golem emitted some steam through its seams to melt the ice at its feet. Once freed, it continued its advance toward the ruins of the Wet Rope Pub.

It grasped its hammer with both mechanical hands. Slowly, it began to raise it straight up until the air as it glared at Raigryn, Fife, Zarko, and Belduhr.

The blue jewel embedded in its chest was exposed to all before it.

Quoril Raigryn Vayd Fife Focraig'Diin Zarko James Lanvarok Dearien Verook Belduhr Brighthand Abomination

 

[Kyros]

Another freshly written book was nestled into the library’s shelves. For the first time in years, new books began to appear in the dusty library.

The lone Librarian took great care to categorize the newest work, especially since he penned it himself. He updated the catalog that was used by no one but himself.

An assistant waited for the Librarian's orders. He turned toward the assistant and said, "Please dispose of the subject and bring me a new one.

Metal banged and clanked as the assistant dragged the Librarian's motionless research subject away. Streaks of blood stained the floor from where the subject was and the library's door.

Not long after that, another assistant approached the Librarian.

"What's this?" the Librarian asked as he walked over to the second assistant.

The Librarian placed metal-covered fingers upon the assistant's brass, lifeless head. The Librarian silently cast a spell.

"Guests approach the City?" the Librarian said as his fingers left his golem assistant.

A nod in affirmation followed.

"Good! Haha!" the Librarian exclaimed.

"Bring them here," he commanded, "It's been years since I've spoken to anyone outside!"

The golem left immediately. It would gather others - the same types of golems that had been pouring from the Golden City and abducting people. They would then go forth and attempt to usher, willingly or otherwise, the intruders in the tunnels to THE GOLDEN LIBRARY.

Selene Avar Harrier TTamark Ava Gilleth Szesh

 

[Aifrin]

Fynauria

Aifrin followed behind Fynauria, though Birin took one whole step more than Vaxor did, and once airborne she decided to jibe her rokh about it a bit.

"Have to lay off the snacks huh, Birin?" She laughed, receiving an annoyed chirp in response with a slight wiggle of his wings in a mock barrel roll maneuver. "Not with that many eyes watching." She hissed to him, petting a few of his feathers as she watched the other pair slightly ahead of them.

She was glad it had been her and Fynauria. Aside from getting along well, she trusted Fynauria a lot more than the others. It helped that they had shared quite a few gripes about the rigors of their lifestyle.

She hadn't been away from their city as much as Fynauria had been, but there were days for roaming, and days for tricks.

Today was a day to fly by the book however, at least for the most part, she thought as she descended slowly and watched for anything below them.

 

[Zarko]

THE RUIN FORMERLY KNOWN AS THE WET ROPE PUB
ALOK-THERAK

"Don't worry common folk!" he called out to Raigryn Vayd and the others, "Yer savior Zarko has this under control."

Smoke began to clear and far more powerful magic than his measly bolts weaved by Focraig'Diin at last failed under pressure from such impossible strength. His massive foe took another crashing step closer. Zarko gave a womanly shriek before high tailing it behind Fife and Belduhr Brighthand.

The 'tall' lady Kara Orin asked about some kind of control rod.

"I'm not a fan of that terminology," the gnome lectured her, "I prefer to think of them as management rods."

From the looks he was given by those who even bothered to glance his way Zarko realized this was perhaps not the best time for a rhetorical debate.

"Well what's it look like?!"

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

Wet Rope Gang

Zarko Fife Belduhr Brighthand and himself had taken off in the opposite direction to Quoril James Lanvarok and Dearien Verook

All had the intention of putting some distance between themselves and the giant golem's intended path. It seemed determined to carry on in a straight path. Stone buildings, made my dwarven hands to last the ages were being toppled as it advanced. Crossbow bolts from several dwarves bounced harmlessly off its shell.

"It looks like the ones we found in those ruins," he called out to Fife and Belduhr. "Its going to take a bigger hammer."

They had managed to damage its smaller cousin several months back with hammers to the body. Scaling up they would need a hammer the size of a trebuchet. He would need to get closer to unleash a curse with the Misery he had drawn from the fear that permeated the air. He had more under his control that he had wielded for years, but curses were subtle things. He needed to choose his target carefully. Find some machinery he could condemn to failure with a spell.

"What's this about a control rod?" he called out above the din.

 

[Belduhr Brighthand]

The dwarf was not yet huffing and puffing with effort, but there were grunts of displeasure at being made to run once more. He barely managed to keep himself paced with the taller man, his backpack now feeling like an anvil strapped to him as it threatened to throw him to either side.

"I do apologize, I left that with my other bag." He cackled at the comment of a bigger hammer, somehow managing a bit of joy in the moment of panicked adrenaline.

Danger had a strange way of acting on the psyche after all.

The mention of a control rod made him wonder though. If it was being controlled, that meant somewhere was another being sending it orders. The questions of how and why came forward with that line of thought along with the how to wrangle that control to their side.

"Magic then I would surmise. One wonders what kind of magic controls that thing?" he huffed, not yet prepared to look behind him.