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Strang gives a surprised start, as the giant machine succumbs to Jezebels hail of bullets, and goes crashing to the ground, exploding.
"Does make it hard to study them when they keep exploding." He says, with a sigh.
"Here, lets finish patching you up before more arrive." He adds, going over to Mohok and healing him some more.
He then goes over to watch the construct's final moments.
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"Well Sparky, Ah'll only be able t'tell what Ah know b'out Alkenstarii guns. And this thing ain't from Alkenstar. But like they say, if it moos like a cow and chews cud like a cow, it's gotta be some kinda cow. So here's what Ah figure..." she says before going into a rather informal but informative instruction session.
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Eadie touches down tentatively, like a butterfly with sore feet.
“Well, I guess your patron Power has just dunked that flying thing in the River of Souls, Dr Strang.”
The warrior is a bit miffed she didn’t get a shot at the robot. However, she is very happy that everyone is all right. “You OK, Mohok? Don’t forget you have the last potion of cure moderate wounds.”
She watches Jezabel’s firearms lesson with great interest, not interrupting once! Every now and then she will take a break to scout the immediate area, in case the robots’ owners send something else to investigate the Pathfinders.
“So, where to next?”
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"Well, I can't imagine it will end up anywhere but scavanged." Strang replies thoughtfully. "Few faiths have a place for constructs in their afterlife's."
He goes in to look at this one as soon as it stops exploding, trusting the remaining fire protection to keep him safe from the flames. Far too eager to get a look at what makes it tick.
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As the flames go out, without the robot’s systems to draw on the component’s energy and regulate its functions, a strange technological relic begins sparking as it melts away the wiring that kept it anchored. Even to the untrained eye, it is clear that this piece, an incomplete, semispherical lattice of thin metal, is different from the rest of the myrmidon.
Taking a moment to clear the thoughts of battle from your mind, you get a good look around the room where Mohok nearly lost his life.
This rounded room is partially filled in by soil. A three-foot-diameter sphere on a tripod base - much like a crystal ball — sits near the room’s original center. The device no longer works properly, and only occasional images of traumatic scenes flash across its surface.
The connecting alcove contains what the robots would have considered garbage, including the corpse of a poor ratfolk who seemed to have previously met his demise here. He was very well equipped however, but alone he was no match for the calculating lethality of the robot.
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"Thanks, Doc," Mohok rumbles appreciatively as Strang heals him once, then again, returning him to full health. "Like I said, that thing hit pretty hard, glad you heal pretty hard."
With the robot defeated, Mohok breathes a sigh of relief, glad he won't have to charge into its deadly reach again. Still, not entirely sure he trusts the thing, he sticks close to Dr. Strang as he studies it, pointing out the distinctive metal lattice and says, "What's that thing, you think?"
As Strang sets to answering the question, Mohok turns his attention to the dead ratfolk, studying it a bit to see how long it might have been there, as well as checking it over for anything of use.
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Strang looks thoughtful, his mind racing.
"It certainly is a fascinating scenario." He mutters, looking around, as he ponders. "According to Ingret's journal... her relative came down here, and tossed his piece of the sky key, down a ravine." He points back towards the crevasse nearby. "That one does not seem deep enough, it was forty feet down at most, and your typical dwarf has better eyesight then that. Of course, that was long ago, perhaps it has sealed up some."
He goes back to studying the disabled robot. "See those bits there." He points into the construct. "And those. They are all consistent with the other constructs we've seen. Perhaps more complex, a bit more convoluted."
"But that bit there... that doesn't fit at all."
He leans back, thinking "I wonder."
He shuffles though his bag for a moment, withdrawing a couple of tomes, that he consults for a moment, before putting them away. He then withdraws some prayer beads from a pouch and concentrates for a moment, before putting them away as well.
A quick prayer to Anubis, and he goes back to studying the robot once more.
He then says some arcane words, and studies the remains some more.
As he goes about studying it, he continues to talk absently not directing his comments at anyone in particular, just his usual process.
"The robots here appear to be scavengers. Recyling pieces of their own home, to create... well, I'm not sure? Other pieces maybe? If Torrgrim tossed a piece of the Sky Key in here... which all available information seems to indicate is a powerful artifact ... even in pieces. Perhaps the robots scavenged it somehow? Or replicated it in some fashion?"
He reaches in carefully to remove the strange hemispherical lattice from the robot's body cavity.
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The ratfolk seemed to have been dragged in from the stairwell area. It seemed to have walked in from the tunnel to the north, and its footsteps abruptly halt. The tunnel itself is collapsed now, but it was likely intact back not long ago. Drag marks continue into the garbage chute. On its body are quite a few incredibly useful pieces of equipment, including a magic set of boots, a magic vest, and a wand.
As for the metal device, consulting with the Thread of Silver makes it quite plain what it is... a piece of the Sky Key!
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“Few faiths have a place for constructs in their afterlife's.”
“Well Abadar’s does.” Eadie blurts out indignantly.
“In fact the scarp above Chessed is one of the few places on Golarion His Construct Herald – the Lawgiver – is known to have manifested. I would love to make a pilgrimage to the site once this dungeon has been delved.”
As for the metal device … it is ... a piece of the Sky Key!
After a short pause to ponder, Eadie moves closer to the good doctor. “I wonder if the construct chose the Sky Key, or the Sky Key chose the construct?”
“I mean, like was the Sky Key exploiting the constructs as tools to go home or whatevs, or did the Construct start up a mining business because it got smarter after seizing the Sky Key?”
She then tugs the Mystic Theurge’s sleeve. “Oh yeah, Mohok found some cool stuff on a dead rat when you get a chance, Dr Strang.”
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Strang ponders Eadie's comment. "Would not be unheard of for an artifact to manipulate events around it that way." He offers.
"Though one has to then wonder if it was the artifact that convinced Torrgrim to throw it in this place to begin with all those thousands of years ago. And to what purpose..."
He leaves that train of thought unfinished as she tugs on his sleeve.
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Upon hearing the identification of the Sky Key fragment, Desmond cracks an uncharacteristic smile.
"It would seem like we have found our prize! I say we take it, and everything else of interet or value back with us to Tymon. Venture Captain Smine is bound to know what steps should be taken from here."
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Mohok moves along the drag tracks left by the ratfolk's body, to the spot where the poor creature likely died. He scratches his scarred, tattooed head in thought, then begins acting out the ratfolk's last moments to himself, envisioning the flying robot killing it with ease, then dragging it forward, perhaps collapsing the tunnel behind it as well. "Wonder why he needed to move it?" he asks himself. "A big cat'll do that with its prey, but the robot wasn't going to eat the little ratman. Maybe it was just tidying up."
With a shrug, he turns to his companions and agrees with them, "If we got what we came for, let's get out of here."
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“The princess cares for and is much respected by her people. She makes for a pretty good leader and friend.”
Eadie frowns as she considers Ingret’s uncertain fate. “Unfortunately, I can see some half-construct Technic League dark lord kidnapping and torturing her to find the location of our hidden Pathfinder base at Jormurdun.”
“It might renew her hope if the Ten sent a rescue team to get her out of her current predicament.”
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He chuckles a bit. "Yes, quite the stubborn type. It's good to hear she's still safe. For her special definition of safe... She is after all one of our few friends in Numeria. Sounds like she was helpful though, if grumpy is how you describe her." He laughs and nudges Mohok. "As you say, she is a dwarf!"