Connor looked at his altered appearance in the mirror. "Halflings!" he swore. "And here I was being careful, so we wouldn't damage any important stuff! We should just trash and burn it all, if that's their attitude. I forgot the halfling word for self also meant trickster. This poison" Connor muttered angrily, ""had better not be permanent. Now I want what's in this desk. I've paid for it!"
Connor mentally called over one of the other constructs and handed it his dagger, pointing at the desk. The blue-and-other-colored humavian then retreated back outside the room, while the construct forced open the remaining drawers.
The construct gouges at the desk, forcing the drawer open without any attempt to find the trap or pick the lock. It takes awhile, but the construct eventually pops the drawer open. An red gas hisses out, swirling around the construct. When it dissipates, the construct is no longer the semi-transparent milky white it usually is, it's now a translucent red. It drops the knife and begins to shamble toward Connor, it's palm outstretched.
"Oh lord that's funny! I did mention that Meriel was a High Prietess, yes? Emphasis on High? Did he really think a low level spell like that would get around her tricks?" The voice chortles.
"Red must mean infect your allies." Connor growled. "I am the master, and you are nothing more than ectoplasm from the Astral Plane! You dare disobey?" he hissed at the construct, mentally telling it to halt, and dissipate back into the nothingness from whence it came.
The red construct doesn't stop, it shambles along, as if sleep walking.
The other two attack the shambling creature...
Both hit the red construct, which explodes into a red vapor. The red vapor clings to the two attacking constructs, who then turn and begin shambling toward Connor, palms outstretched.
"Well of course the one infects both." the humavian groaned. ::Ranged attacks only! They will last less than a minute, however. Now that they've changed.:: Connor sent out through Selvar's Net. He expended his psionic focus into his hands as he reached for his crossbow, making bolts to load into the weapon. (Ectoplasmic Trinket, 3 bolts)
Reaghar keeps his distance from the things, focuses to change his second active type to construct.
The crossbow bolt pierces the construct, going through it completely. The construct pauses, then collapses into red mist.
Connor's crossbow begins to drip red dust, which slowly spreads up his hands and under his shirt.
The second construct pauses, and then collapses into a fine red dust that blows away in an errant wind.
There's a tearing sound as connor's pants rip open, and a fluffy black and white tail grows up and out behind his wings, resembling a skunk's tail.
"Oh my... Meriel... really? A skunk? You always did have a weird sense of humor."
For his part, Sam watches amusedly, "Enough games, Tenfa, I have a complex about people other than me taking advantage of me and mine for their amusement."
Alys is somewhere between annoyed, completely baffled, and highly amused: "What's the purpose of these traps? To annoy thieves to death?"
"Why the purpose of the traps is to shame someone foolish enough to try to break into the high priestesses quarters without showing the skill to find and disable a trap, deary." An unknown voice says over Selven's link to everyone. It's a female voice, and it sounds quite amused. "And Sammark, dear, I am highly amused by all this, but it's none of my doing. Dear Meriel left the traps behind when she died. I have no control over them. Nor would I disable them if I could. I'm sure they'll wear off in a day or two. I'd ask Meriel but she's rolling around on the floor and laughing too hard to talk right now."
"Magic." Connor cursed, looking himself over. "I'm starting to see why magic is so hated, even down here on the Surface. Magical traps that last for millennia and don't care who springs them, a helper or a looter."
Connor winced as he heard the female halfling godling over Selvan's Net. ::You're not endearing your people to outsiders, Tenfa.:: he said, using the name Sammark had given them. ::I'm sufficiently demoralized to just back out of here, not tell anyone what we've found, and let your city remain empty for another thousand years out of neglect. Maybe then the stones will collapse and fill this place with earth and you will have nothing but moles and the 'vermin' little balls of light to converse with.::
Connor put his crossbow away, regaining his psionic focus. Two constructs wasted because some magic user demanded a trap when sprung must still punish the person. It was ridiculous. And it still did not give any hope of finding Snowcoat senior alive. Connor also wished he had a cloak to throw over his colored form.
Connor went back to the study, to the desk, and, without touching, looked in the open drawers. He picked up his torch and his dagger from where they had been dropped.
"There are no halflings on this continent anymore, Connor of Clan McIntyre." The voice says, all mirth gone from her voice. "Those who cannot enjoy a joke on themselves are doomed to an eternity of being stuck up prigs. As well as the butt of all jokes. Since you do not appreciate humor, I will cease to be a bother to you."
As Connor goes to look at the desk, the lockpicks fall from his pocket and to the floor. He sees no traps.
Uhm, boss? You sure you want to piss off a god? I don't know a lot about them, but uh... isn't that like, a bad idea in the old stories? Hero asks in a very tight and tiny little voice. As if afraid of being overheard.
Connor paused. A godling without worshipers, no, without a race. Yet she still had humor, even from a bunch of interlopers in her territory. It could have been worse. Connor sighed. Why did he have to be the one getting all the trouble?
"I apologize, Tenfa. I hope you can hear me here, here in your city." Connor said. "I come from a warrior family who rejected me, and have not had much humor in my life up until now. But we are your guests, not looters. We merely search for another, at the bequest, and pay, of his daughter. We have traveled far to come here, and we, I, am ignorant of still many things. I am not a bard to spread pretty songs and tales, but I will report to others of a city awaiting reclamation by the right people."
With that, Connor bent to pick up the lockpicks again, and replaced the sterling silver writer's kit on the desk.
There's a pause, and then the voice is heard again, again sober and calm. "A life without humor is a sad thing, Connor formerly of Clan McIntyre. But you must remember that humor is something that comes from within, not from without. Do not allow others to dictate the humor in your life, that gives them power over you. Laugh at yourself. If nothing else, it robs them of the power to laugh at you, for your enemies can't help but agree with you if they laugh with you. You steal their power from them." The halfling's voice then turns from serious to amused. "You really think I have a problem with you looting? Really? I'm a thief and trickster you moron. I don't mind thieves, I just don't like thieves. You need to work on your skills. At your current training, you can't possibly even find the magical traps, much less disarm them, Connor of clan Connor. For now, take your lumps and learn. Besides, you bouy your allies spirits by making them laugh and smile."
Connor is able to retrieve the lockpicks without issue.
"As amusing as this is I've yet to see nor hear someone actually die of embarrassment. Despite the exasperated cries of adolescent humavian larva. Though it is comforting to see not everything around here is capable of massacring our target."
"Well, there was Duke Malfort who died of embarrassment, it could at least be argued. It was rather embarrassing to be caught in Empress Malicta's chambers with his pants down and her skirt up. Especially since it was Emperor Faldecta that caught him. Poor chap died of embarrassment almost immediately. He was so embarrassed he dove out of the 5th story window he was cavorting next to. Very messy. Especially since he landed on his back. Quite the scene you can imagine. At least post-mortem embarrassment was not an issue, according to the tales. He was quite the man they say."
"I should be keeping a diary. I could sell it as a comedy novel...", Alys says while materializing her mind bolt. She opens the lock on the door and carefully pushes the door open, to peek into the room beyond.
Alys sees a long empty corridor outside.
Still holding the lit torch, Connor mentally told Hero and the winged construct to take the lead in the corridor. ::I'll have Hero go ahead.:: he told everyone through Selvan's Net. But I don't like the way my constructs were just commandeered by magic like that, so I'll hold off making more. Connor thought to himself.
Hero relays to Connor (who assumably relays to everyone else). The corridor turns right, then goes down and turns right again. That opens into a large area that looks like another common area, with pillars.
Inside the room are two purple balls hovering aimlessly.
Reaghar sticks in the back with Selvan, figuring he's the one with his head screwed on the straightest.
::All right, moving Hero ahead.:: Connor began. ::Yes, you. You can see in the dark. Keep going. More. More. Another corner? So turn already. Wait. What was that?::
Connor looked at Alys and Sammark in the room. ::Hero's found another open room a ways down, with two balls of light floating around. He thinks one is bigger than the other.:: he sent soberly. ::So what's our tactics for the soul-burning 'vermin'?::
::Get the drop on them and shoot them from a distance this time. You might have to make more constrcts after all, to keep the from getting all up in our faces again.::
::Yeah, I can send in constructs to bash at them, and also leave one or two to block them in the corridor while you shoot at a distance.:: Connor replied. He raised his free hand, and started concentrating.
This wingless human-like creature is made from a silvery-transparent material. It stands shorter than a Halvavian, its' right hand and arm ridiculously larger than its left.
Craft (Sculpting) check:
A result of 20 to 29 creates a construct that looks like an accurate portrayal of that creature type.
N Small construct
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception -
DEFENSE
AC 18, touch 13, flat-footed 16 (+2 Dex, +5 natural, +1 size)
HP 15 (1d10+10)
Fort +0, Ref +2, Will +0; Immune construct traits
OFFENSE
Speed 30 ft.
when changed to attack: Melee slam +1 melee, 1d6+5 damage with Power Attack (Ex) and Improved Slam Attack (Ex)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
STATISTICS
Str 15, Dex 15, Con —, Int —, Wis 11, Cha 10
BAB +1, CMB +2; CMD 14
Feats -
Skills: Can perform any simple task of DC 10 or less for its' duration.
SPECIAL ABILITIES (Two options from Menu A; one option from Advanced Constructs Menu A)
Improved Slam Attack (Ex)
Power Attack (Ex)
Utility (Ex)
This wingless human-like creature is made from a silvery-transparent material. It stands shorter than a Halvavian, its' right hand and arm ridiculously larger than its left.
Craft (Sculpting) check:
A result of 10 to 19 creates a creature that is recognizably similar to the desired creature shape.
N Small construct
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception -
DEFENSE
AC 18, touch 13, flat-footed 16 (+2 Dex, +5 natural, +1 size)
HP 15 (1d10+10)
Fort +0, Ref +2, Will +0; Immune construct traits
OFFENSE
Speed 30 ft.
when changed to attack: Melee slam +1 melee, 1d6+5 damage with Power Attack (Ex) and Improved Slam Attack (Ex)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
STATISTICS
Str 15, Dex 15, Con —, Int —, Wis 11, Cha 10
BAB +1, CMB +2; CMD 14
Feats -
Skills: Can perform any simple task of DC 10 or less for its' duration.
SPECIAL ABILITIES (Two options from Menu A; one option from Advanced Constructs Menu A)
Improved Slam Attack (Ex)
Power Attack (Ex)
Utility (Ex)
This wingless human-like creature is made from a silvery-transparent material. It stands shorter than a Halvavian, its' right hand and arm ridiculously larger than its left.
Craft (Sculpting) check:
A result of 10 to 19 creates a creature that is recognizably similar to the desired creature shape.
N Small construct
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception -
DEFENSE
AC 18, touch 13, flat-footed 16 (+2 Dex, +5 natural, +1 size)
HP 15 (1d10+10)
Fort +0, Ref +2, Will +0; Immune construct traits
OFFENSE
Speed 30 ft.
when changed to attack: Melee slam +1 melee, 1d6+5 damage with Power Attack (Ex) and Improved Slam Attack (Ex)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
STATISTICS
Str 15, Dex 15, Con —, Int —, Wis 11, Cha 10
BAB +1, CMB +2; CMD 14
Feats -
Skills: Can perform any simple task of DC 10 or less for its' duration.
SPECIAL ABILITIES (Two options from Menu A; one option from Advanced Constructs Menu A)
Improved Slam Attack (Ex)
Power Attack (Ex)
Utility (Ex)
::Hero,:: Connor sent telepathically, doubling through Selvan's Net so the others could hear, ::get off the flyer (1) you are on and stay near the ceiling out of the way. I'm sending two (2&3) to attack, one for each ball of light, with the third (4) to draw any survivors to the corridor so Alys can shoot it. I'll move the flyer (1) back to block the corridor from the balls of light's death explosions.::
Connor looked at Sammark and the others in the noble person's room. ::Did any of you guys want to shoot rays from behind Alys, or use this room as a fallback? I've got to be in the corridor so I can see and direct the flyer and any other constructs.::
Reaghar moves forward, trying to line up a shot to take them down quicker. One of his active types is already elemental.
Using Hero as a spotter, Connor mentally commanded the astral constructs to attack the glowing balls of light. Two of them would flank the bigger one, with one construct on the smaller one, and the flyer left as as a blocker in the corridor.
::The constructs are attacking. But it's a tight turn to see them in the room.:: Connor sent from the back of the line, holding the burning torch.
Sam holds back, calling fiery death to his mind incase any of the elementals came into the hall. Connor's creatures were expendable and even sam could learn caution.
Alys readies her mind bolt to fire at any creature getting past the constructs into the hallway.
Connor heard from Hero that Reaghar was moving up to the turn in the stone corridor, where he could see the purplish glowing balls of light in the chamber. "Reaghar, wait!" Connor said even as the larger man was firing one of his black rays at the deadly balls of light.
::I wanted to fill the room with constructs, first.:: Connor complained. He squeezed his head next to Selvan's around the corner, trying to see far enough down the corridor to make an astral construct to help out the fighting members of his team.
This silvery-transparent mannequin of a winged Humavian stands shorter than a Halvavian. It is ready to move by silent command from its master.
Craft (Sculpting) check:
A result of 20 to 29 creates a construct that looks like an accurate portrayal of that creature type.
N Small construct
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception -
DEFENSE
AC 18, touch 13, flat-footed 16 (+2 Dex, +5 natural, +1 size)
HP 15 (1d10+10)
Fort +0, Ref +2, Will +0; Immune construct traits
OFFENSE
Speed 30 ft., fly 20 ft. (Average)
(only if changed to attack) Melee slam +2 melee, 1d4+3 damage
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
STATISTICS
Str 15, Dex 15, Con —, Int —, Wis 11, Cha 10
BAB +1, CMB +2; CMD 14
Feats -
Skills: Can perform any simple task of DC 12 or less for its' duration.
SPECIAL ABILITIES (One option from Menu A; one option from Advanced Constructs Menu A, taken twice)
Fly (Ex)
Utility (Ex) (2x)
Meanwhile, the other constructs continued attacking their targets, with Hero clinging to the ceiling and relaying their efforts to Connor.
As the flying construct (1) at the entrance was replaced by the newest ectoplasmic creation (5), it too joined the fray. It flew inbetween two of its' brethren, trying to slam the smaller ball of light with its' right fist.
The constructs move in and attack. The surprise round they attack, but the little purple elementals are still hard to hit, as they bob and spin randomly. Only one of the attacks hits.
Reaghar's bolt slams into the larger elmental, and bits of energy flakes off as it begins spinning erratically, which is only made worse by the next slam attack from the construct.
Then the two elementals both zoom at Reaghar, the larger one zooming under the flying construct to attack him. The smaller one zooms into a wall vent and drops out of the vent in the hallway behind Reaghar.
The flier next to Reaghar changed as the ball weaved around it, trying to hit it as it dodged.
Alys slams a bolt that rips through the elemental and slams into the wall a foot from Rheagar's head. Which is much better than the sizzling ray of fire which sings past the elemental, passing close enough to Reaghar's face that he can feel the heat wave.
The elemental's both attack attack Rheagar again.
Acrobatics to move through threatened squares, left 4 squares. Then taking a shot.
Alys takes aim and fires another two shots.
Alys's last bolt goes wild, whizzing past Sammark's ear (taking off some stray hairs) and then punches through Rheagar's pants, just missing the family jewels and leaving smoking cloth behind.
Reaghar yelps and does a diving roll past the small elemental and medium elemental, avoiding attacks of opportunity by the seat of his smoking pants.
Hero, due to the closeness of the larger sphere of negative light, decided retreat was the better part of valor. That is, Connor heard Too close, too close! Get me out of here! as the psicrystal scurried around the corner into the pillared room.
Connor shook his head as Alys shot her soulbolt gun towards the purple light outlining Reaghar. Hero, he commanded, if those balls of light can go through air ducts, so can you and the constructs. Have one squeeze through an air duct, and the others are to do whatever it takes to get between Reaghar and the balls of light. Keep hitting if they can.
Connor, still holding the torch, had to concentrate to make out what Hero was relaying to him as the constructs moved. ::I'm still...fighting the balls of light.:: he sent through Selvan's Net. ::We need distance before they explode again!::
The constructs swarm the elementals, and then both elementals detonate, sending waves of negative energy over the constructs and washing off the walls.
Well, all the constructs but one swarm, the last construct begins making pitiful mewling sounds as it get's it's head stuck inside an air vent.
Connor mentally commanded the constructs to fade away. ::Hero says the corridor opens to a pillared room, like the one that led to the halfling godling's chamber. I think it's safe now.::
[b]"Let's move on then"[/b
"Gotta love the flying death balls, they've certainly made themselves at home here."
"But why?"
"Tenfa thinks someone has been drawing them here, probably the usual unsavory type with delusions of grandeur."
"Well I hope she appreciates us playing exterminators, getting rid of her 'vermin'," Alys airquotes.
"Sorry, about that, back there," she adds somewhat nervously turning towards Reaghar.