Kaska shakes her head at the questions about the dead humanoids. She doesn't know what they are, how a dump like Scrapwall might handle corpses, or how Hellion's "religion" might work.
She helps look around for a good pace to put the charges with Holg.
Fireday and Kaska both recognize the best place to place a cylex charge to bring down the receiever array. It's a 20-foot climb to reach the support structures, at which point you'd have to carefully place and arm the explosive.
An eerie silence hangs in the air. You can't quite shake the feeling of being watched.
Kaska looks up at the big disk and sticks out her hand. "Give the thing to me."
She climbs the tower to the spot they've selected and places the charge. Within a few minutes she's back on the ground.
"All set. Let's move back and blow it up."
Fireday looks around the area, the eerie feeling reaching even his machine mind.
Holg is silent, his front frown worried while Kaska starts her ascend "I felt some magic trying to invade my mind. Be careful Kaska. I do not think all those bodies there are casual"
The Kellid prepares his sling to cover Kaska on her climb up.
Despite Fireday's paranoia, he doesn't notice anything in the area. Holg readies his weapon as Kaska climbs up, but she is able to make it to the base of the dish without incident. She spends a few minutes preparing the cylex charge, confident of its positioning, then she climbs back down to rejoin the group.
"Let's make haste. This was too easy," Fireday comments.
"Sure, let's get some distance, then we detonate the thing" Holg looks at the detonator with bright eyes "Can I press the fireworks button?"
"Be my guest Holg. I think you have the button anyway."
Once you are a safe distance away, Holg presses the button on the detonator. The cylex explodes, destroying the receiver array in a tremendous explosion! Twisted metal rains down on the immediate area as the flames gutter up into the sky. There's no way that anybody in Scrapwall could miss such a huge conflagration. If the Lords of Rust didn't know you meant business before, they certainly do now!
"Hahaha! Look at that!" Holg looks at the remains of the structure descending from the sky, his eyes are wide and bright contemplating the show "What a beautiful destruction!"
As things start to calm down the Kellid warrior points to the north "So, it seems it is time to pay a visit to those Lords of Rust. I wonder if they will come to invite us or we shall do something to request access to their base"
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Coen looks up with some dismay when the structure is destroyed and literally goes up in flames.
" I really don't get this city, this is all so pointless. Just a big fight to see who can be lords of the trash heap after we ruin everything of worth."
Fireday makes the sign of the sword after staring in confused, terrified awe at the explosion.
"Better that the wicked waste their energy fighting each other rather than harming the innocent, I guess?" he says to Coen. "Maybe what we're ruining is the wicked folk and something better can emerge afterwards. Ripping out the weeds so the flowers may grow. Viv probably would know better, since she's lived here, while we are just visitors."
"Mostly this city sucks," says Viv. "We don't have the means to convert this to something good, so best to deny its use to the wicked. Like I said before, this city needs the long-term help of people more qualified than us. Anyway, we can't worry about that right now. We need to focus on hunting down and stopping these evil wannabe gods."
Holg looks at Coen with a face of not understanding the man "Well, how you will prove you are stronger than the others if not destroying more things and in a more astonishing fashion than them?" the man really looks clueless at the sorcerer strongly attempting to understand something that escapes his wits.
"By building something better. Like Khonnir Bane. Nobody doubts his strength, and people are also happy when they see him see him coming."
Fireday looks between the seeming two groups that have formed in their party, confusion and concern on his face.
"What's the alternative? If this is pointless, then what should we be doing instead? The Acts say 'Justice and Honor are a heavy burden for the righteous. We carry this weight so that the weak may grow strong and the meek grow brave.' What you seem to be saying is we should just abandon our quest, go back to Torch and...then what?"
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"Go back to Torch and live our lives. That's what. Why does there have to be more than that? There isn't, for me at least. I'm only here because Hellion is here. I only care that Hellion is here because it is a threat to Torch."
"I think we should keep our heads clear about something. We have no friends here. The ratfolk are a gang like the others. The only difference I see between them and the others is they have found us useful enough for meeting their ambitions to not kill us for our possessions. We have struck a temporary bargain with them, information in exchange for solving the problems they can't solve for themselves. When we leave, after we're finished, the ratfolk are on top. Scrapwall is exactly the same garbage pile after as it was before. Nothing has changed except who bloodsucks off who. That is all and I don't care. You can't fix something that won't be fixed."
”Like I said before, this place needs way more help than we can give it in an afternoon or even a month. They need infrastructure. Stable food and water supplies. A shared sense of polity. Wiping out Hellion and monsters is a bandage for a wound on a body that’s diseased and decrepit. We strike out at the worst parts, prop up what little good we can. We can’t fix this place unless you want to commit to living here for years and taking an active role in building up a new, stable, self-sufficient community.”
“You can’t make crops grow and farms flourish by hitting them.”
Holg looks confused of the conversation going around "I do not grasp what you mean. This seems a straightforward system. The strong gets the glory" he smiles at the others thinking that is clear enough to not need explanation "Well I mean, there are not mischievous cunning plans misleading you. There is just what it seems to be. You do not pass your life working in one direction made to thought it is for the benefit of the tribe, only to discover at some point you have been working all your life for the glory and well-being of another one, or you not find yourself you have been committing your efforts in futility as they will have no impact in the world"
"Here it's easy rules for everyone, you win, you get the glory, you loss, your competitor got it" the man nods sure it has sense "You always know were your place is. You are not confused and mislead by the ones who really rule. This is truthfulness"
Coen sighs deeply at Holg's comments, the conversation is too much like every talk he's had with the tribal part of his family. Another part of why he won't fit in with either side's heritage.
"I just meant I don't like it here, I don't like who I have to be when I am here. Let's get this done so we can go somewhere else where the water is cleaner and everyone is playing a slower version of 'let's kill each other to see who gets to rule.'"
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As you are making your way back from the ruined receiver array, static screeches across Scrapwall, followed by the metallic, grating voice of Hellion.
*DENIZENS OF SCRAPWALL! IT SEEMS THIS BAND OF UPSTART NEWCOMERS IS DETERMINED TO PROVE THEIR SCRAP-WORTH IN A MANNER MOST BOLD! NOT ONLY HAVE THEY WIPED OUT THE SMILERS AND SLAIN THE MANTICORE THAT HAS PLAGUED THIS REGION OF LATE, NOW THEY HAVE DESTROYED A DEVICE MOST SACRED TO MY FAITH! SOME MIGHT THINK THAT THEIR BRAZEN ACTIONS MIGHT ANGER ME, BUT THAT IS NOT THE CASE! RATHER, I WELCOME THESE NEW CONVERTS THAT ARE OBVIOUSLY SO DESPERATE TO PLEASE ME! THE LORDS OF RUST INVITE THEM TO BATTLE IN THE SCRAPMASTER'S ARENA, TO PROVE THEIR SCRAP-WORTH FOR ALL TO SEE! THIS IS AN OFFER NOT TO BE REFUSED! SO SPEAKS HELLION!*
Another burst of static, then silence.
"Wow! Di you heard that?!" Holg closes his fist strongly "It has come the time to show the truth about this Hellion and all his false-hoods! Let's bring him and all his minion's down! We can get a peaceful rest afterwards at the civilized Torch if you please"
Holg resumes his walk with good mood towards the Arena with his greatsword ready.
”But what if we’ve already made plans?” Kaska complains dryly toward the nearest speaker.
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"Go back to Torch and live our lives. That's what. Why does there have to be more than that? There isn't, for me at least. I'm only here because Hellion is here. I only care that Hellion is here because it is a threat to Torch."
"I think we should keep our heads clear about something. We have no friends here. The ratfolk are a gang like the others. The only difference I see between them and the others is they have found us useful enough for meeting their ambitions to not kill us for our possessions. We have struck a temporary bargain with them, information in exchange for solving the problems they can't solve for themselves. When we leave, after we're finished, the ratfolk are on top. Scrapwall is exactly the same garbage pile after as it was before. Nothing has changed except who bloodsucks off who. That is all and I don't care. You can't fix something that won't be fixed."
Fireday scratches his head as Kaska expresses her disdain.
"I can't...quite understand. For me, living my life IS getting involved in problems like these. The whole reason Iomedae has empowered me is to bring the wicked low and uplift the righteous. If you stay only in your own town, care only about your issues, then you can allow evil to take root and grow elsewhere. That's why the Technic League continues their madness and cruelty, since each community here prefers to focus exclusively on their own issues instead of uniting against this oppressor."
He frowns concernedly.
"Besides...the ratfolk are a family too. Redtooth turned to us to help save her brother, and then he helped us fight the Smilers out of gratitude. Maybe just by helping them Redtooth and her gang have been given an example to follow. You're making a lot of assumptions about this place and its people, when we've only been here for a few days. How do you know it can't be fixed if you don't try?"
[b]”Like I said before, this place needs way more help than we can give it in an afternoon or even a month. They need infrastructure. Stable food and water supplies. A shared sense of polity. Wiping out Hellion and monsters is a bandage for a wound on a body that’s diseased and decrepit. We strike out at the worst parts, prop up what little good we can. We can’t fix this place unless you want to commit to living here for years and taking an active role in building up a new, stable, self-sufficient community.”
“You can’t make crops grow and farms flourish by hitting them.”
Fireday nods.
"I know that, but to borrow your metaphor, what we're doing is weeding the garden. Maybe even after these basic efforts something better will finally emerge without all the evil choking it out."
Holg looks confused of the conversation going around "I do not grasp what you mean. This seems a straightforward system. The strong gets the glory" he smiles at the others thinking that is clear enough to not need explanation "Well I mean, there are not mischievous cunning plans misleading you. There is just what it seems to be. You do not pass your life working in one direction made to thought it is for the benefit of the tribe, only to discover at some point you have been working all your life for the glory and well-being of another one, or you not find yourself you have been committing your efforts in futility as they will have no impact in the world"
"Here it's easy rules for everyone, you win, you get the glory, you loss, your competitor got it" the man nods sure it has sense "You always know were your place is. You are not confused and mislead by the ones who really rule. This is truthfulness"
At this, Fireday shakes his head.
"Easy rules don't always mean a fair game, Holg. This is why I walk Iomedae's path instead of Gorum's. Even honest oppression is still oppression, and must be fought with just as much vigor. Besides, there is still plenty of deception here. Just look at Hellion. Whatever he is, he is no god. He pretends to authority and power he doesn't have, which leads the greedy and desperate to compete to seek his favor, hoping for rewards or miracles he won't be able to give."
Coen sighs deeply at Holg's comments, the conversation is too much like every talk he's had with the tribal part of his family. Another part of why he won't fit in with either side's heritage.
"I just meant I don't like it here, I don't like who I have to be when I am here. Let's get this done so we can go somewhere else where the water is cleaner and everyone is playing a slower version of 'let's kill each other to see who gets to rule.'"
"But who you are hasn't changed, Coen. Have you considered that maybe instead of Scrapwall changing you, it is you that is changing Scrapwall? And besides, there are lots of places in Numeria that are just as bad as here, if not worse. Scrapwall's ugliness is simply on display for all to see. There are towns in Numeria that seem not that different from Torch that would hang me if they knew I was an android, or are thoroughly under the Technic League's thumb just as sure as Starfall is. That's why I got involved in Torch's troubles, and why I'm going to keep travelling Numeria after we're done here. To keep making this place better for all."
As you are making your way back from the ruined receiver array, static screeches across Scrapwall, followed by the metallic, grating voice of Hellion.
*DENIZENS OF SCRAPWALL! IT SEEMS THIS BAND OF UPSTART NEWCOMERS IS DETERMINED TO PROVE THEIR SCRAP-WORTH IN A MANNER MOST BOLD! NOT ONLY HAVE THEY WIPED OUT THE SMILERS AND SLAIN THE MANTICORE THAT HAS PLAGUED THIS REGION OF LATE, NOW THEY HAVE DESTROYED A DEVICE MOST SACRED TO MY FAITH! SOME MIGHT THINK THAT THEIR BRAZEN ACTIONS MIGHT ANGER ME, BUT THAT IS NOT THE CASE! RATHER, I WELCOME THESE NEW CONVERTS THAT ARE OBVIOUSLY SO DESPERATE TO PLEASE ME! THE LORDS OF RUST INVITE THEM TO BATTLE IN THE SCRAPMASTER'S ARENA, TO PROVE THEIR SCRAP-WORTH FOR ALL TO SEE! THIS IS AN OFFER NOT TO BE REFUSED! SO SPEAKS HELLION!*
Another burst of static, then silence.
Fireday glowers at the announcement.
"More evidence of his hubris, he presumes to know our motivations and our minds. But this is a chance to be the example I spoke of. We best his minions, maybe others will be inspired to do things our way rather than his."
Holg struggles to follow Fireday's line of thought, he is sure the android is right on it, but he cannot really grasp it. The Kellid though starts to resolve with a smile when the Warpriest talks about Hellion "The Speaker of the Sword. Your thoughts are deeper than most Philosophers I have met. You androids are surprising beings" Holg sets his greatsword over the shoulder in a relaxed but combative posture "I did manage to understand there is some fight involved. All the better we can focus on stopping the bad ones. I do agree about Hellion. Let's unmask it my brother in arms!"
Then Holg resumes his resolve to walk the way to the Arena and accept the invitation.
Coen looks at Fireday dismayed by his metaphor. When he speaks he isn't angry but frustrated and sad. He manages to hold back his emotions, but it's a close thing probably only made possible by the tension of the situation of being in a barbaric city with a machine god's electronic screaming their praises.
"Gardening? We're here to kill people because they attacked Torch. Maybe we're here for good reasons but we're not cutting back bushes, we're killing people. And once we're done killing the people who threatened Torch we're not staying around to fix things right? So we're just part of the culture here. People fighting and killing each other for recognition and fear.
I never wanted to be a gladiator, or a holy warrior, or a killer of any sort, but here I am. Maybe it isn't Scrapwall making me this way, but I can't see any other way to be and still live here. So I'm sorry but I hate it here, and I hate the people who made it this way... and myself for not being able to fix it without just buying in to their whole city plan."
"Then what DO you want to be, Coen?" Fireday asks.
It adds nothing to the conversation since she's walking up front, but Kaska rolls her eyes a few times as the other continue to philosophize.
"Somewhere else."
A short time later, you reach the Scrapmaster's Arena. An enormous battlefield sprawls here—a fighting arena that measures several hundred feet in diameter, ringed by mounds of junk and refuse stacked in tiers for seating. The ring has an arched opening in its westernmost end to allow access to the arena, while against the eastern side, a large metallic structure akin to a squat tower protrudes from the hard-packed earth. A wooden stairway wraps around the tower's sides, and a twenty-foot-tall stage protrudes from its western facade, overlooking the arena below.
A few orcs spar in the arena, but as they notice you, they quickly call out and fall back to the stage. From atop the stage, an immense troll in spiked leather armor peers down at you. She brandishes an autograpnel gun like the one Kaska carries.
"Ah! I know you who lot are. Your scrap-worth precedes you. I am Helskarg, of the Lords of Rust!" The troll leaps down to the arena floor, landing in a crouch, unfazed by the twenty-foot-drop. She then straightens to her full height of 14 feet! "You have heard the words of our god, no doubt. Have you come to test your mettle in the arena?"
Fireday glowers as the troll introduces herself and jumps down.
"We come to test ourselves against you and your fellow Lords, not to bow before the voice that you call a god!"
He raises his battlestaff defiantly.
"Hellion's power is NOTHING compared to the might of Heaven! OZEM FOR IOMEDAE!"
"Ha! That's great!" Helskarg laughs at Fireday's display. "Save it for the ring! The audience will eat that s&+# up! It'll take a bit of time to set you up with an opponent and get the word out to the crowds. Come back this time tomorrow, yeah? Then you can put on your show!"
Fireday lowers his staff, but does not stop glaring at Helskarg.
"More proof these Lords' piety is false. I insult her 'god' to her face and she laughs it off as a performance," he mutters to the others.
Kaska leans over toward Fireday to fill him in, just in case.
"I believe she misunderstands our intent here. She thinks we're performers, gladiators. It may be a real fight, but it's also very much a show."
SPELLS
CL 5
Orisons (4)
light
divine guidance
mending
detect magic
Level 1 (5/day + 1 pearl of power)
magic weapon - D
bless
shield of faith
remove fear
burning disarm
Level 2 (4/day)
spiritual weapon - D
surmount affliction
sound burst
* defending bone
Level 3 (2/day)
* bull's strength - D
Channel Vigor
Before entering the arena Holg casts defending bone on himself.
Holg's eyes shine at the sight of the troll "Ah! You must be the HelSkarg!"
"Your fame precedes you. I am sorry but we did not come here to fight with puny gladiators. I am here to fight you personally and see how much is true of that Hellion's muscles of yours!" Holg draws his greatsword and shouts a battle cry "For Gorum!" while casting bull's strength on himself.
Helskarg blinks, then looks from Holg to the rest of you. "Is this guy serious? I mean, I'd hate to wreck you all after we've already got the hype train going for your arena bout, but if you insist on challenging me now, I'll be happy to rip you apart." There's no malice in her voice, only conviction.
"Sorry, I think you thought this was entertainment. We're actually here to straight-up murder you."
Kaska hasn't the vaguest idea what's just happened. But it's starting to look like the horses are already out of the barn.
She shakes her head in mystification and casts Lead Blades, figuring she's going to need it.
Helskarg shrugs. "Your funerals!" She quickly levels her autograpnel and fires at Holg. The adamantine spike cracks his defending bone and pierces his chest, lodging itself there. The troll then retracts the cable, yanking the cleric directly into melee range!
"Ah! Now I listen to you!" Holg smiles wide and opens his eyes with emotion while the autograpnel cracks into his armor and pulls him. The Kellid makes a great effort to remain on feet while it fights the vigorous pull.
"I have to admit its a pity there is no one else in the Arena to see this fight. But I have been talking with my friends and I doubt Coen here and the others would enjoy having to stay one more day on this pile of scrap!" instead of freeing himself, the cleric does make a tentative attack to measure the troll's skills while he talks.
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Kaska follows Holg in to the troll. She figures the man's unintentional charge due to the tow line makes him an excellent shield for her advance. She might have felt a little bad about this calculation, but Holg was heading there anyway whether he liked it or not, and he had demanded trouble.
Just before arriving, Kaska peels off and swings around to the troll's side before slashing at her with her falx.
.
"FOR VICTORY! FOR THE HEART!" Fireday cries hurriedly as battle suddenly begins.
He says a small prayer to Iomedae as he rushes to help Holg, cursing himself for wasting his most potent protections on the poltergeists.
"... the heart?" wonders Viv rhetorically before she lobs another one of her metal shards in an arc that passes by Holg and seems to leap in toward the troll with increasing speed as it goes.
"It means to strike at the heart of your foe to make sure they are slain!" Fireday replies as he runs.
Coen has a grim expression across his face as he silently gets down to business.
Glitterdust: DC-17
Coen coats Helskarg with glittering motes, but the troll resists being blinded.
Holg's first swing tears through Helskarg's armor and rips open her guts! She howls in pain as blood and entrails splatter on the cleric.
Kaska moves in behind him to get to Helskarg, but she bites the Kellid as she closes. Undeterred, Kaska retaliates with a powerful slash of her falx, further injuring the troll.
Viv blasts the troll, leaving her reeling, as Fireday wards himself and moves into melee range.
"Arrgh!" Helskarg roars, badly wounded. Her injuries are slowly regenerating, but she's still on the ropes. She glances over her shoulder as if gauging whether or not to retreat, but with everybody around her, it's unlikely she'll be able to escape without exposing herself to counter attack. So instead she drops the autograpnel and tears at Holg with teeth and claws!
Viv circles to one side to get a clear line of fire. With a practiced flick of her wrist she sends another shard flying through the air, carrying a wave of etheric force behind it.
"Someone get some fire!"