From the depths of the pipeline come surging the owners to the multitude of skittering scrapes Arzazel had heard scant seconds previously. The noise is unlike any that has ever been heard by those present. The clatter and skitter of hundreds of metal bits scratching across the pipe's interior crescendos the nearer they draw, amplified by the cramped quarters that currently contains it. Further ahead at the pipe's bend, a dim, blue light begins to reflect off of the thick, soot-stained interior walls. The pace of whatever approaches does not seem to be terribly swift at present, though even this avails little in the way of identifying what it might be.
Bazuul the flashes back down the tunnel past Sampson—unseen—to climb once more into the safety of its master's garments.
The spectral whispers continue, heard only by Sampson.
"Betraayyeer in our middssst. Filllltth. Not oooof the cooourt."
The shade approaches slowly, though still non-threateningly for the time being. "Leeeeooovarde — weeee sssseek hisss flessssh."
"In theee fouuundrryyy" Sickly blue lights appear where eyes should be on the horror's face. They stare cold death directly at Sampson's own eyes. It raises a hand and gestures towards the Kuthite symbol still in his clutches. "Carrryyy wiiiiith. Veeeengeeaaance"
Adurus, Arzazel, Nathmir, Sampson, Vincent, Zeltresh
???
Eldred, Rutilus
"I do not work for free spirit," Sampson says, while also being aware of the impending skittering noise and blue light. He moves back away from the grate and back to the entrance of the boiler, making room for the gnome and drawing his falcata. He tucks the holy symbol into his belt.
"C'mon Zeltresh, time to cook." Eldred climbs into the boiler and sets himself up to cover the gnome as he works his magic. "Things get messy, you get behind me. Just keep slinging."
Adurus, now hearing the chittering but not seeing its source, puts away his mace and draws out a volatile flask of alchemist's fire, ready to let it loose on whatever appears from within.
////
////
////
//The Boiler Room//
As the as of yet unidentified creatures continues their approach through the pipeline, all present set to preparing themselves to deal with the approach of a presumed threat.
The shadow that lingers in the confines of the boiler slowly sinks into Sampson's own shadow, the brief appearance of its eyes vanishing similarly. A brief chill makes its way up the Hermean's spine; it is not a chill of fear, but the presence of the supernatural now being harbored in his footsteps. "I do not work for free, spirit" echoes through Sampson's head in his own voice in a manner that first strikes him as taunting. Eventually, his response being fed back to him subsides, and the disquiet spirit hisses a response in its usual manner, "Whaaaaat... doessss it requiiiire? Paaaayyyment ree....eeeendered. Coooooins? Vaaaaaults? Iiiiinfooormaaation?" The questions stifle Sampson's own thoughts as they are posed, even as the man makes his way out of the boiler to allow the gnome and others to clamor in behind him.
All capable of seeing allow their gazes to remain affixed to the bend in the conduit ahead. Preceding their arrival, the blue lights emanate strong and vividly; not nearly so bright as a torch, but substantial enough to reveal the surroundings of their passage. What appears is... unexpected.
A small horde of egg-shaped metal balls, each no larger than a small kitten, teeters forward slowly and awkwardly atop six metal, crab-like legs that continue to scratch and scuttle through soot against metal pipework beneath. Emanating from the center of their orb-like bodies are small shimmering runes, mostly azure in color and the source of the light that preceded their arrival. They surge forward like a carpet, uniform in movements and utterly united in purpose. As their facades orient themselves towards the boiler, they take notice of the band of intruders within. The blue, glowing runes that hover suspended less than inches away from their "faces" wink out in an instant, just as quickly replaced by the appearance of an entirely different one—crimson and flickering in a steady pulse. As one, the small automatons cascade at a much more hurried pace towards the boiler.
______________________________
First smoky elementals, now a small horde of egg-shaped metal balls: You're not in Cheliax anymore. Arzazel does not expect to be useful, so he moves away from the open access and joins the group.
__________________________________________
Adurus steps up among the others and steels his nerves, prepared to throw the flask once the swarm draws nearer. He shouts to the others, his adolescent voice cracking, "Stay away from in front of me!" while drawing a deep breath.
Nathmir knew his priestly abilities were useless against machines for the most part. A bolt would fair little better. He puts his crossbow away and gets his staff ready.
Vincent stands with his shield up, bracing for the threat making it's way toward them through the very pipeline they hoped to use to gain entry to the main building. As the wave of metallic spider creatures moves down the pipe, he quickly realizes his blade will be next to useless against such a large number of foes.
"We've got to thin their number, and fast. Hopefully if enough of them are destroyed they will disperse or flee..."
He looks around to the others to see what they have planned. Zeltresh had begun the tell tale movements of an arcane maneuver, while Adurus stepped up with something else in mind apparently, and Vincent quickly dismisses the thought of blocking the hatch with his shield when Adurus requests to have a clear line in front of him.
As his mind races with his options, he notes the flask of fire on his comrades belt, and says, "Mind if I borrow that?
Vincent takes the flask and prepares to throw it, timing his throw to be after whatever Zeltresh and Adurus can muster. If the two of them could manage to thwart these...things...he didn't want to waste the resource.
__________
When Adurus dismisses his request to use the weapon at his side, Vincent instead raises his shield and sword, bracing for the wave to make it's way out so he can hopefully eliminate a few of them with his blade.
__________
I would assume not since all you gotta do is open your fingers, if it's in your hand.
Also of particular note, any area of effect damage the swarm sustains takes longer to repair than individual strikes. (I should also mention, nothing about their design renders them immune to negative energy channels, unless I'm overlooking something)
The swarm of automatons move as one, their crimson runes flashing quickly in unison in a way that is remarkably unsettling. Whatever these creatures are, they appear to take great exception to the intrustion presented by those present. Even so, they seem to have trouble moving through the pipeline easily. Those on the fringe of the mass are forced to attempt to scurry along the rising curve of the pipe's interior, often scraping ineffectually and following back into the rest of the horde. The net effect of their troubled approach is a greatly diminished pursual of those arrayed within the boiler—many of whom prepare various volleys of fire to deal with the veritable carpet of metallic vermin. It is an uncommon sight, for certain; seldom do unthinking constructs manage to appear hungry, and yet these things seem voracious.
Their appetite is dissuaded by a display of incineration that few have ever witnessed. Zeltresh, though diminutive in size, releases a blaze that washes through the pipeline in a gust of heat, sending sparks hissing from several among the swarm and momentarily burning along various lengths of the conduit's interior before snuffing out once more. A sudden appearance of fire affords all present a better look at the approaching swarm, though it is Zeltresh who notices something peculiar: whatever these things are, this is not the first scrap they've been in tonight. Several among their tiny host bear scorch marks and partially melted or fused bits of metal that were present before the gnome's own attack. His ruminations on this discovery are cut short, however, as Adurus ducks into the boiler to slide past Zeltresh and unleash a fireblast of his own. Once more, the approaching swarm is subsumed in a shroud of flame.
Vincent, seeing his moment, steps forward and attempts to sidearm his borrowed flask of alchemist's fire into their number as well. Given the cramped and crowded quarters he finds himself in, his aim suffers greatly. The tip of the flask catches on the boiler wall where the grate once stood, wobbling off course to shatter against the pipe's interior. As the fires of the substance flare up, the Field-Squire is disappointed to see that it missed his mark entirely, though fortunately none of his current companions were caught in the aftermath of his poorly aimed toss.
______________________________
"Pfah," Sampson says to the horde of little machines, seeing no worthy foe there. He steps aside and leaves the others to the task of destroying them.
Good thinking, Frig.
Eldred looks back at the gnome and takes a knee for a moment. "Zeltresh, get on my shoulders so you're free of this mess. Rain some more fire down on 'em , n' I'll keep ya clear."
...to hold aid up as I stand, hopefully only a move action for him..
"Light 'em up!"
"Just like stickin' kabobs, right? Can someone hit 'em with cold? Maybe alternating will throw 'em off!"
A small horde of egg-shaped metal balls, each no larger than a small kitten, teeters forward slowly and awkwardly atop six metal, crab-like legs that continue to scratch and scuttle through soot against metal pipework beneath. Emanating from the center of their orb-like bodies are small shimmering runes, mostly azure in color and the source of the light that preceded their arrival. They surge forward like a carpet, uniform in movements and utterly united in purpose. As their facades orient themselves towards the boiler, they take notice of the band of intruders within. The blue, glowing runes that hover suspended less than inches away from their "faces" wink out in an instant, just as quickly replaced by the appearance of an entirely different one—crimson and flickering in a steady pulse. As one, the small automatons cascade at a much more hurried pace towards the boiler.
First smoky elementals, now a small horde of egg-shaped metal balls: You're not in Cheliax anymore. Arzazel does not expect to be useful, so he moves away from the open access and joins the group.
Not sure exactly what he expected, Zeltresh is taken aback by the ... things that come pouring down the pipe at them. His surprise lasts only a second as he reaches out for the fire within him. At the last instant he remembers his recent training with the warmages.
"Fire in the hole!"
Adurus steps up among the others and steels his nerves, prepared to throw the flask once the swarm draws nearer. He shouts to the others, his adolescent voice cracking, "Stay away from in front of me!" while drawing a deep breath.
Nathmir knew his priestly abilities were useless against machines for the most part. A bolt would fair little better. He puts his crossbow away and gets his staff ready.
Vincent stands with his shield up, bracing for the threat making it's way toward them through the very pipeline they hoped to use to gain entry to the main building. As the wave of metallic spider creatures moves down the pipe, he quickly realizes his blade will be next to useless against such a large number of foes.
"We've got to thin their number, and fast. Hopefully if enough of them are destroyed they will disperse or flee..."
He looks around to the others to see what they have planned. Zeltresh had begun the tell tale movements of an arcane maneuver, while Adurus stepped up with something else in mind apparently, and Vincent quickly dismisses the thought of blocking the hatch with his shield when Adurus requests to have a clear line in front of him.
As his mind races with his options, he notes the flask of fire on his comrades belt, and says, "Mind if I borrow that?
Vincent takes the flask and prepares to throw it, timing his throw to be after whatever Zeltresh and Adurus can muster. If the two of them could manage to thwart these...things...he didn't want to waste the resource.
The swarm of automatons move as one, their crimson runes flashing quickly in unison in a way that is remarkably unsettling. Whatever these creatures are, they appear to take great exception to the intrustion presented by those present. Even so, they seem to have trouble moving through the pipeline easily. Those on the fringe of the mass are forced to attempt to scurry along the rising curve of the pipe's interior, often scraping ineffectually and following back into the rest of the horde. The net effect of their troubled approach is a greatly diminished pursual of those arrayed within the boiler—many of whom prepare various volleys of fire to deal with the veritable carpet of metallic vermin. It is an uncommon sight, for certain; seldom do unthinking constructs manage to appear hungry, and yet these things seem voracious.
Their appetite is dissuaded by a display of incineration that few have ever witnessed. Zeltresh, though diminutive in size, releases a blaze that washes through the pipeline in a gust of heat, sending sparks hissing from several among the swarm and momentarily burning along various lengths of the conduit's interior before snuffing out once more. A sudden appearance of fire affords all present a better look at the approaching swarm, though it is Zeltresh who notices something peculiar: whatever these things are, this is not the first scrap they've been in tonight. Several among their tiny host bear scorch marks and partially melted or fused bits of metal that were present before the gnome's own attack. His ruminations on this discovery are cut short, however, as Adurus ducks into the boiler to slide past Zeltresh and unleash a fireblast of his own. Once more, the approaching swarm is subsumed in a shroud of flame.
Vincent, seeing his moment, steps forward and attempts to sidearm his borrowed flask of alchemist's fire into their number as well. Given the cramped and crowded quarters he finds himself in, his aim suffers greatly. The tip of the flask catches on the boiler wall where the grate once stood, wobbling off course to shatter against the pipe's interior. As the fires of the substance flare up, the Field-Squire is disappointed to see that it missed his mark entirely, though fortunately none of his current companions were caught in the aftermath of his poorly aimed toss.
"Pfah," Sampson says to the horde of little machines, seeing no worthy foe there. He steps aside and leaves the others to the task of destroying them.
Remember those Nattie totems we found south of the river? Frig sounds off in his ear.
Good thinking, Frig.
Eldred looks back at the gnome and takes a knee for a moment. "Zeltresh, get on my shoulders so you're free of this mess. Rain some more fire down on 'em , n' I'll keep ya clear."
The gnome starts to take affront at the sergeant's suggest, but newly-learned lessons about the advantages of higher ground ring in his ears and he nods his consent.
"Light 'em up!" Eldred calls out.
__________________________________________________
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////
////
//The Boiler Room//
Noticeably damaged by the various blasts of fire brought to bear against them, the horde within the tunnel seems undeterred in its single-minded purpose. Many lay in sparking, smoking, or singed ruin behind the bulk of the host, the runes suspended before them snuffed out entirely. Still others bear the scorched marks of the fires, the symbols changing from a pulsing red to a fluttering orange. Their path remains absolute, however, and the swarm threatens to wash over the intruders like a metallic tide. As they draw near, their exteriors begin to thrum with the flow of energies as a current of electricity begins arcing throughout both the individual components and the swarm as a whole.
___________________________________________________
With few options for attack, Adurus draws out his mace now, crouching low and preparing to swing it into the swarm of bizarre creatures when they draw nearer.
Arzazel watches in awe of his gnome friend and ensures that they are not ambushed while distracted by the things from the pipe.
___________________________
Nathmir moves to place himself in a better position, ready for the creatures should they come.
|
His mind racing, temporarily causing him to stall, Rutilus thinks over what he knows about constructs. As the group prepare themselves to be overrun by the metallic swarm, Rutilus's jaw hangs open at the sheer idiocy of his comrades.
"What are you doing, packing yourselves in there like that?! Do you want to be overran by the constructs and blown apart by your allies? Bah! These constructs can repeair physical damage done to them easily enough! Those without fire, acid, or cold attacks are just in the way!"
As he angrily berates his allies, Rutilus moves to the entrance of the boiler and lobs his held flask over their heads. Though he obviously doesn't try to hit them, it is apparent that he doesn't really seem to care of his attack splashes on his allies or not - a few acid burns build character, after all.
_________________________________
The awkwardness of his newly found perch prove disastrous to Zeltresh's aim, as his spell surges far overheard of the approaching swarm to trail scorch and flame along the pipeline interior beyond. Overcrowding is becoming an abundantly clear issue—one that visits ramification on all within and without the boiler tank. Even as Zeltresh's flaming blast surges overhead, Adurus attempts to swipe his mace through the ranks of their tiny foes. While several are knocked aside, the damage appears to be largely superficial. They return to their massive host without hesitation, seeming unperturbed by the squire's powerful blow.
Rutilus' frustrations are confirmed as he releases his alchemist's fire. Fortunately, the cramped quarters also afford nowhere for the swarm to hide even given his failure to accurately lob the vial. It sails passed the tiefling's intended target and veers to the right into the boiler's corner wall. The explosion manages to engulf a large flank of the swarm's total bulk, though the wave of heat that surges around the chemical reaction similarly catches Eldred and Zeltresh in its wake. Several of the automatons remain on fire in the aftermath, though continue their advance unabated, their orange "emergency" runes mostly lost in the orange and yellow haze of the flames engulfing them.
All inside the boiler wait on bated breath for the surge of crab-like constructs to approach, each hoping the fiery assaults being lobbed from overhead and behind suffice to arrest their charge. Unfortunately, this is not the case. Clattering forward, emotionless, the blanket of foes draws ever closer. And then they were upon them.
Bracing themselves as best they can against a foe whose diminutive proportions and sheer numbers are nearly impossible to defend against, Adurus and Eldred become nearly covered by the swarm. As they scratch, clutch, and clamor their way up the legs of the squire and corporal, a lattice of lightning surges through the whole of their host and through the forms of those they envelop. Worse yet, the small arcs of electricity being conducted through their tiny, metal frames lash out at those within close proximity as well, though the effects are far less dire.
______________________________
Though the runes themselves are beyond your understanding, it's easy enough to determine, even unaided by divination, the likely culprit behind their existence: arcane mark. A simple cantrip known by nearly every person the world over with a simple grasp on arcane spellcasting, weaving it into a construct in a manner that conveys messages would not be difficult. In fact, it seems rather clever.
The meaning of the runes are entirely lost on you, but you remain convinced you have seen that exact symbol before somewhere. If you're not mistaken, its origins are Hallit.
Playing fast and loose with the rules here, but in order to leverage a two-handed weapon with a gnome on top of you it's going to require you to make an Acrobatics Check. You can use anything one-handed just fine, but "hands free" will cause some complications.
Sampson moves over to the wall to watch the fire show and waits.