Numeria. A strange, strange place filled with eccentric individuals trying to scrape out a living from beneath the heel of the Technic League.
Or at least, that's what you've always heard. You haven't been here all that long, and Torch doesn't have much of a League presence.
Or so you've been told.
Fortunately, the people of Torch are remarkably welcoming to strangers. Travelers often happened by the town, eager to use the namesake forge or pick up some wares made of various skymetals to bring south for trade. The fact that one of the great Sellen's tributaries runs nearly all the way to the foot of Torch's walls certainly made it a good place for merchants and prospective adventurers alike.
It was that latter occupation that drove you here, though you've only been in town a day. You've set up camp in the Evercandle Inn, on the eastern side of Torch. You could even look out your window and see the Torch... if it was lit.
Because as fate would have it, you've arrived at a 'perfect' time. The town's namesake torch, the mighty purple flame that burns at all hours through the clouds and into the sky... has gone out. Just about a week ago, too. The town's been up in arms, and you've just heard that one of the town's councilors has gone missing. No one seems sure what to do, and everyone's afraid that the town will collapse into ruin if the Torch isn't reignited. (No one knows how to do this, of course.) Worse, without a steady revenue from smithing skymetals, the Technic League really will crack down on the town - banning merchants and wanderers from the town as they claim all the strange technology of Numeria as their own.
The good news, though, is that you met a pair of like-minded souls last night in the common room. They seem like pretty good folks - and both the death of the Torch and further empowerment of the Technic League are bad news for all of you. You agreed to meet back in the common room and come up with a plan of action (however basic it might be) after a good night's rest. Maybe the other councilors might know where to start.
You wake to a cloudy and somewhat chilly Numerian day. You wonder if the weather ever really gets any better in this northern wasteland. You've always wanted to claim the title of adventurer... time to go out and get it.
Gramorn Tohim Kest adjusted himself off the makeshift bed of dirt and weeds that he carried in his pack. Though beds were a modern convenience, he felt comfort in the dried and cracked undergrowth that marked the darker aspect of a plant's life.
A breeze blew from a nearby window tossing aside some of his trappings, causing the gnome to stare blankly. Dark shadows filled much of the room, welcoming him to another overcast Numerian day. To Gramorn, this was yet another day in his life as a bleachling. At somepoint during his middle years, Gramorn stopped caring about the world. Was it the strange land he had traveled to? Was it the dark foul magic that finally warped the gnome's life? Or had it been the presence of foreign artifacts caused adverse effects on the world. Whatever it had been, Gramorn developed a different connection with the First World, one where at the cost of sanity and life experience, he gained an understanding that his culture feared - bleaching.
But in Numeria, a land filled with savage barbarians and foul magicians, few cared for his disposition.
Muttering a silent prayer, he called to mind with which magic he would use for the day, and readied himself to meet with the people he met last night.
Gramorn moved to the common room and waited for the human male scholar and human female warrior to appear.
William Jannis scowled at the visage of himself he saw in the dirty mirror. His once jet black hair was streaked with white at the temples and his beard, scraggly and untrimmed, had it's own tendrils of uncolored, traitorous hairs. He was by no means a handsome man, but he had a kind of rugged charm, an honest-to-goodness working man's cadence. His pale blue eyes had the beginnings of wrinkles at their edges that gave him a kindly look, even when he scowled at himself.
For much of his life, he had been a plain and simple working man, unconcerned with the goings on of the world and the foolish tales of adventurers. He had been, until a few years ago, an engineer. A workshop boy at the age of eight, pumping bellows until his shoulders screamed in agony, then in the fullness of time an apprentice, a junior and after much experience, an engineer proper. All that changed with the coming of the blight, a disease which had ravaged his village and left all but a few dead. He had watched helplessly as his wife and children faded and perished along with most of the people he had ever known in his life.
He had always been a clever man, and throughout his youth he had maintained a kind of fascination with wizardry and magic. He had dabbled with silly little magics, coin tricks and the like, and with nothing left to keep him in his village, he had decided to roll the dice and try something new. So here he was, in a tavern dressed in a robe with a spellbook and a magic ring. The past years were a blur and he still wasn't really sure how he had gotten himself to the point he was at, but here he was.
Dismissing himself in the mirror, Will turned to the spellbook sitting on the desk and opened it, letting it fall open on the first page and ran his eyes down the familiar words there, mumbling as he committed a few to memory.
Snapping the book shut, he stuffed it into the leather backpack sitting on the edge of his bed and then slung the bag over his shoulder. He made his way out to the common room and spotted the white of the druid he had met before, an odd thing, but interesting.
"Morning," he grumbled, his voice was gruff but friendly in a passive kind of way.
The White Druid glanced at the scholar who had joined him.
The human male arrives.
In his younger years, Gramorn may have assaulted the scholar with a multitude of questions, hoping to poke and pick the man's brain of any and all interesting facts. However, Gramorn merely looked past the scholar and regarded him with disinterest. Allowing no time to pass, the druid cut straight to the point.
"The female warrior has yet to arrive."
The gnome's voice was cut and cry like the Numerian wind. His face displayed no emotion.
Bloody odd sort of fella, Will thought to himself, about as interestin' as watchin' glue harden." However, he had long since learned to school his expressions and instead of showing the mild amusement he felt, he simply shrugged.
"I'm sure she'll be along soon enough," he grumbled casually, then smiled as he caught the eye of a serving girl. She reminded him a little of his daughter. "I'll take whatever's hot for breakfast, missy, an' small beer if ye've got it."
Kala. Davina. The names shifted around in her head as she braided her hair tightly against her scalp,making sure any errant silvery strands were pushed back into place. She had introduced herself as Davina to the strange duo, but Davina sometimes still felt like Kala, the Kellid barbarian girl who had been found wandering in the wilds. Her bronzed skin betrayed her heritage, along with the various scars, scarification and tribal markings that decorated her arms, legs and temples. Even the leather band that pulled her hair off of her forehead was markedly Kellid.
This dichotomous existence, the barbarian warrior against the wandering scholar, had led to her wandering for the past few years. A certain sense of numbness permeated her actions, the grief fading to sheer anger at what had happened. She knew they were behind the deaths of her family, and they would pay.
Checking to make sure the room was exactly as it was before she had stayed there, Davina smoothed a wrinkle in the bedspread out before one long glance in the mirror. Her appearance wasn't the first thing on her mind, but she wasn't daft. She fully realized that the way she looked could certainly prove to be an advantage with most.
The studded leather armor that fit her body closely over leather leggings and a tunic were hardly the mail she had wanted, but limited provisions had led her to choose weapons for the time being. All of her clothing, from boots to armor, were a dull shade of dusty amber brown, nearly matching her skin and the dusts of the wild itself.
Hefting her pack onto one shoulder and cursing the loud clank some of her weapons made, Davina trudged downstairs. Her cold violet eyes swept the crowd looking for the strange little white man and kind-looking wizard. Or sorcerer. She wasn't exactly sure what he was.
Finally acquiring her target, she approached without hesitation. The crowd at the bar stared as the strange-looking six-foot barbarian sat down without ceremony.
Tucking one of her oddly golden pieces of hair behind her ear, she nodded. "Morning," she said to the group, a brief smile fleetingly crossing her face. Her voice sounded like bells, slightly higher than would be expected from such a robust woman. "I'll have what he's having, but no beer for me."
They have both arrived... thought the gnome to himself. He had certainly met many different people during his travels, and the duo that stood before him wasn't anything to talk home about. A strange barbarian woman and an old man.
Clearing his throat with a gutteral noise, Gramorn looked upon the new arrival with disdain.
"The fire is out. The denizens of seem to require it for their livelihood less hard times come. tests all those who clamor for success."
Allowing his words to fall, he turns his head towards a nearby breeze and a slight glimmer of happiness crosses his face. Though fleeting, this was perhaps the first time Gramorn showed emotion.
Snapping back into reality, he continued.
"As well as their leader. I, am not from this...dwelling." His cold eyes peered at each of his comrades.
"What should we do?"
Will leaned back, looking across the table at the woman on the other side. A finer, more solid specimen of womanfolk he had rarely seen before. He let his eyes linger for just a moment, then moved them away, up to the smoke-blackened rafters of the ceiling.
"Well, I'm goin' to eat breakfast. A fella should never start the day without he eats somethin' first, it sets a body up just right for whatever..." he nodded slightly at the gnome, "tests it might come across."
Davina smiled briefly at Will, who seemed pleasant enough, and tried not to frown as she listened to the cranky little specimen in front of her. Miserable old codger, she thought as she caught the smell of frying meat on the air.
"As am I. Fuel is required for any machine to work." she said evenly, hunger scrambling her thoughts, the aromas dancing in the air tantalizing her senses.
"Do we wish to find out whoever, or whatever, caused the fire to go out? Or is the finding of this councilman more pressing?" Davina inquired quietly without pretense.
"Water, ash, sand, and the lack of air are common causes for a fire's death." Gramorn said dryly as he stared at the barmaid. His eyes were like coals upon sand.
A moment passed and she didn't seem to regard the gnome.
"Back in my day, people earn their coin. I suppose this world is different."
He watched the customers of the inn. To him, they seemed like termites esting their way through a long decayed log.
"It would be best to ask these denizens. Surely, they have some use." When he had finally caught the attention of the barmaid, Gramorn gave a hard stare and cleared his throat. "Miss, these humans need food. And while you're at it, where is your missing leader?"
Gramorn's feet shuffled as he eased himself in a chair.
The elder woman sitting behind the counter area of the common room gives the strange group a moment to settle before nodding to what appeared to be a much younger version of herself. The young girl scurries over, eager.
She nods profusely at the rapidly requested order and returns with a trio of plates and mugs. A stale-looking, hard roll sat beside some off-color eggs, and some kind of gruel complimented the final third of the plate. The cups held some rather brackish tasting water - all save Will's, which held a frothing beer fresh from the keg.
At Gramorn's inquiry, the girl turns to look at her boss - who gives her a slight nod. There weren't many other patrons up and about in the inn at this hour. The dying Torch had likely scared several prospective customers away. It wouldn't be long before the town became a ghost town at this rate.
The youth slips into the fourth chair at your table. She speaks in a heavy Hallit accent, the language of the northern lands. She'd clearly picked up the Taldane tongue from some travelers and spoke it with a careful but knowledgeable manner. "If we knew where he was, wouldn't we have found him by now?" She laughs a little, despite the gravity of the situation in Torch. The girl abruptly coughs and stifles her joviality. "But Khonnir isn't our leader, really. There are five councilors in Torch, and they have led us well so far. That's what Grandmamma Murgrave says, at least." She hesitates for a moment, then adds, "I'm inclined to agree."
"Thank you," Davina automatically responds in her native Hallit, taking the plate and cup carefully.
Davina questioned her choice of water the moment that the cup hit the table. Looking longingly at Will's beer, she reminded herself that a clear head was imperative for solving a strange puzzle like the quandary of the torch and councilor. It all made no sense, unless the League was behind it. But Davina was biased towards that conclusion of course, and she recognized she jumped to it far too often.
"So some feel that with or without Khonnir's return, things will be fine?" Davina asks bluntly, inclining her head at the young girl whose manners reminded her of her own.
Skewering some eggs, Davina began to pick at her plate with haste.
Will half listened as he speared his... well, they might have been eggs, maybe. He shoveled a sample into his mouth and didn't entirely regret it. The small beer, on the other hand, was excellent. Brewed in small towns since time immemorial, small beer was beer without the alcohol, or very little of it anyway. A quick glance into the stuff pertaining to be water in the others' glasses made him quite pleased with his choice.
"In any case," he grumbled around bites of kinda-egg-stuff, "we should go speak to these councilors. Takin' the word of a girl," he nodded towards the young woman, "even such a wise one as this, isn't the best idea. Better to get it from the horse's mouth."
Gramorn eyes the feast that stood before him.
Eggs. Bread. Gruel. Water. Service...
Without so much of a thought, he pushed his plate of eggs and gruel towards the rough looking woman.
"Davina. You require sustenance if you are to function."
Left with only a cup of muddy looking water and a hunk of stale bread, Gramorn began to eat his share of the food while hearing his teammates talk.
To the gnome, breakfast was a social activity that he rarely engaged. He didn't need any set time to consume sustance. When hunger came, he would consume. Hacking off a large piece of bread and gnawing on it like a critter, he spoke while Will Jannis was proposing his theory.
"I am able to speak with horses - well, with all living creatures from this plane. A gift for my current condition if you will. Perhaps asking the important figures of this settlement we can determine Konnier's absence."
Davina barely veiled her contempt with a glance at Will when he mentioned the poor young lady's gender. As if being a female results in incompetence. What the girl said definitely has intrigue if this is truly how the townspeople think.
Taken aback by the tiny grouch's offer of food, she nodded and took the plate. Due to her upbringing, she never refused a plate of food that was given unless she suspected poisoning. And with the stagnant movements of the gnome, she doubt he'd go to the trouble.
"Thank you," she said quietly, and started on Gramorn's plate after she finished hers in a few moments.
"Actually if you really can speak with horses, if this Konnier fellow had a horse, it might be worth a try. An unorthodox approach may be our best in this situation, considering it sounds the councilors appear a bit...unperturbed by the absence," Davina said, swallowing the last bit of gruel and stacking her plates.
Swigging down the water, she finished both plates before Will appeared to be halfway through. Living on the trail had no room for anything but speed, as the archaeologists had trained her to take her meals in under ten minutes. Davina still had not outgrown the habit.
Will almost spat out his beer as he tried and failed to strangle a laugh. The idea of the little white gnome wandering around conversing with horses amused him greatly. "Ah ha ha! Right from the horses mouth!" He slapped the table in his mirth. "That's grand, that is!" Smart he may have been, but he had a simple, pleasing sense of humor. His estimation of the gnome went up a few notches at the discovery of a sense of humor.
The girl at the table looks between all you, doing her best to keep up with the conversation with her slower Taldane. At the mention of her wisdom she does seem to perk up with a bit of pride, waiting until the laughter settles down before adding a simple comment.
"Sorry, I don't think Khonnir had a horse... But if it helps, you might talk to Val." She waits for a moment and realizes you probably have no idea who that is. "Oh, um, Val's his daughter. We're uh, friends."
"Well now, as to that. I don't know that I'd want to bother the young 'un, not after losing her father. I doubt she'd be able to tell us much and it might only upset her." Will gave the girl a comforting smile, "I reckon the council is our best bet."
"A Council." intoned Gramorn as he finished his hunk of bread. "Agreed. If the offspring knew something, our situation would be different."
Pushing aside his plate, Gramorn motioned his allies to find the council.
"Our Council awaits."
"I think if the girl thinks we can help her find her father she will be willing to help, Davina said in Taldane. Switching to Hallit she muttered a few disparaging words under her breath about not being a wilting flower.
"If the councilors are unbothered by his disappearance I think we should talk to both parties."
The youth rolls her eyes as she's spoken over, standing up and getting ready to walk away right as Davina speaks up. She grins wide, obviously enjoying someone taking her side. "Val's pretty good at fending for herself. Don't just disregard her - or me - just because you're old!"
The elder resting by the countertop interjects, then hanging her face in her hands. "I think you've helped enough. Go clean up the chambers."
The girl huffs and leaves after giving Davina a quick nod. She disappears up the stairs, stomping the whole way. The woman at the counter looks both apologetic and embarrassed on behalf of the child. "I'm so sorry about that... don't mind her. She didn't mean none of it, I'm sure. Those two are just spitfires." The woman's Taldane is much clearer, more practiced. She's obviously been at this a while.
Such troublesome creatures thought the Gnome silently to himself.
Gramorn couldn't help but comment about the current situation.
"Judging by the sprout's reaction, I suppose Val would have more answers than seedy elders. Time waits for no one. Which shall it be?"
Standing near the mouth of the door, a cold eerie light surrounded the bleachling.
Will nodded at the girl's words, considering that he had, perhaps, unduly dismissed her out of hand as a child.
He shrugged one shoulder, "no need to worry, we were all young, once." he told the elder, then taking a second to finish his beer, he pushed his chair backwards and stood, turning to face the gnome. "As for what to do, I agree with the lady, we should speak to both of 'em, and we might as well start with the girl."
The most sensible place to look for Val was at Khonnir's local place of work - a tavern named for both the town's most profitable business and the workshop just behind it, The Foundry. It isn't particularly hard to find, being near to the town's western square. (The Evercandle Inn is, regrettably, on the eastern square.) A few friendly faces point you in the right direction.
They also tell you how great the food and company are there. It's supposedly one of Torch's most popular eateries. You wouldn't know, since it's been closed since you arrived. A sign on the door says as much:
"Closed 'til Further Notice.
-Val"
A quick peek in the window shows no signs of light or movement. A building to the right looks to be a workshop of some kind and the one behind both looks to be a residence. Neither looks like anyone's home - though, to be fair, it is a sunny morning. As sunny as Numeria ever gets, anyway. It's anyone's guess where Val may be.
Davina sighed at the seeming lack of life in any of the buildings. This seemed like an easy and logical place to start, but as most things, complications were to be expected.
"Let's at least knock at all of the buildings, at least we can say we've exhausted those possibilities. Perhaps she doesn't have lights on due to not wanting to receive guests- I am sure those helping her find her father are a different matter," she said flatly, internally contemplating where a girl of that age would have gone off to. As stalwart as Val was described by her young friend, Numeria wasn't an ideal place to be running about solo, even in the middle of the day.
Shading her eyes with her hand, Davina turned to the other two with a shrug, awaiting other suggestions.
"Home." said Gramorn as he shot past Davina. The gnome's reaction was precisely the answer to the Barbarian's inquiry.
Gramorn rapped several times on the door without any compunction and called out for good measure.
"Val. We have come looking for Konnier. Speak with us."
Stepping past the business, Gramorn knocks twice at the door of the home just behind it. He waits a few moments for a response, but gets none.
Instead, you hear the sound of glass shattering and wood cracking, followed by a muffled expletive. Sounds like it's coming from inside the house.
Glass breaking...
Several thoughts went through Gramorn's head.
Humans could be...mating or something is not as it appears.... Stepping to the side, he lifted a bleached finger towards the door and called out Davina's attention.
"Davina. Remove this obstacle. I heard something breaking inside. Konnier, perhaps?"
"Seems the most direct way but glass breaks easier than wood," Davina said. Glass breaking could be messy, so she tore a piece of her undershirt off quickly and wrapped her hand, heading over to the nearest window.
Lifting her fist, Davina smashed the window cleanly.
Will took a step back and murmured to himself, remembering the words, sensing the power within himself. It began with a flurry in his stomach that grew into a stirring, surging feeling. Raising one hand, palm upwards and open, he readied himself for whatever might come.
The window shatters, scattering broken glass across the interior of the small entranceway. A second expletive quickly follows behind it, less muffled now. You can hear wood creaking and bending, as though being bent far beyond its limits.
With a capable leap (and a careful step), Davina crosses over the threshold of the window and into the room. Turning quickly towards the source of the noise, she throws open the nearest interior door as Gramorn clumsily follow her daring entry into the building and Will prepares for imminent danger outside. No sooner does she open the door than she sees the one just beyond burst open as a teetering mechanical device comes bumbling out some kind of storeroom. Its single, blazing eye regards Davina for just a moment before turning abruptly towards the door frame.
The wall beside the door is half assembled, as though it had been torn to pieces, and the device's pair of four-fingered steel arms pry and pull at the door frame, trying to further disassemble the chamber. The casing of the creature has been partly disassembled, exposing sparking wires and whirring gears. Just beyond the creature, huddled beneath half of a desk, crouches a young girl with a wrench clutched in her hands. Another piece comes loose from the door frame, quickly and nimbly set beside the creature into a rather neat pile of broken timbers.
The girl's eyes meet yours, silently imploring you for some kind of assistance.
Whe nothing came crashing out of the window, Will advanced, moving forward the broken glass. He took one look inside and summed up the situation.
"Stand aside!" He grumbled, dropping his magic and advancing towards the back of the robot, he fell back on previous knowledge. If he could just reach inside the robot, he could probably disable it.
He reached in, grabbed the pertinent part that he thought would disable the thing, and pulled.
Gramorn's eyes went wide as he saw a flying creature with skin like a warrior's armor flittering in the air. It's single eye reminded him of folktales concerning demons, but...it seemed different.
Feeling that it was the immediate danger, Gramorn clasped his hands together which produced a tiny storm. Fist sized clouds bearing miniscule lightning particles zapped in his hand. In one fell swoop, he casually lobbed the spell towards the creature, hoping to impede its movement.
.
"Secure the youth!"
Gramorn's tiny storm strikes the mechanical beast, but does little other than annoy it. Its single eye turns and investigates Gramorn before deciding the small gray creature is no threat. It continues to pull on the framing until a cautious Will reaches into the exposed wiring of the creature and yanks on a few exposed circuits.
At once the creature whirrs to life, spinning on its trio of gangly legs to face the offending Will. With a quick flick of its arms, the creature throws Will off and sends the man sprawling across the storeroom. With another quick jab, it tries to slam him against the wall - but the quick witted wizard evades the blow.
11/11
"Baargh! Hell an' death!" Will snarled, ducking the drone's crashing arms and raising his own. He brought the magic to bear, murmured the words he remembered and felt the power surge.
He let the spell fly, then shuffled his way backwards, away from the creature.
Davina's eyes met the poor girl's huddled under the table and she knew that she would have to get her out of her come hell or high water. Growling and holding back her first instinct to smash that strange-looking robot to kingdom come, she attempted to run over to her, dodging the spazzy-looking yet strangely frightening robot.
"Hold on, I'm coming, please try to stay calm," Davina said in rapid-fire Hallit as she bounded across the room. Standing in front of the girl as she reaches her goal, Davina turns her back to face the robot and maintains a defensive posture in anticipation of a possible strike.
"I am going to try to get us near the window, and when we are close, I need you to get out the window if you can and wait for us outside, okay? We are here to help you, Val," Davina continued in Hallit, keeping her voice as calm as possible.
As Davina heroically interposes herself between Val and the creature, Val carefully stands up and looks at the woman, confused. "I appreciate the help, but uh-" She gestures with the wrench to the robot still trying to disassemble the door while it simultaneously disassembles Will. "-I'd prefer if you stopped that thing before it wrecks the place. I kind of turned it on." She shrugs as raises her makeshift weapon to defend herself. "My bad."
Unable to disable the mechanical contraption through a more mundane means, Will resorts to a tried and true measure - a blast of magic. The jolt of electricity shoots through the device, popping and hissing as it spews a puff of black smoke from the exposed wiring.
7/11
Will now had the robot's full attention as it left the doorframe in its half-standing state and approached him at full speed. Without waiting for the man to react it lashed out with its mechanical arm, clubbing the wizard's leg with enough force to nearly break it. Stumbling back, Will finds himself pinned between the creature and the wall as it looms back, ready for another strike.
"Ineffective"
Gramorn grimaced as his storm impacted with metallic creature. Having few options left, he produced a sling and whipped it towards the enemy.
Davina was a bit confused but also a touch amused at the plucky girl's bravado. "Ok, well then, we will distract it. Please go out the window so any resulting carnage doesn't hurt you, and we all make mistakes," she said to Val, trying to bite back a laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation.
Noticing the robot being entirely focused on Will, Davina decides to take that moment to smash the robot into pieces, focusing all of her energy into one fearsome attack on the metal fiend.
The pain in Will's leg was significant, and he gritted his teeth against crying out. He recognized immeditately that if he didn't extract himself quickly, he was likely going to be pummeled to death by the contraption. He steeled himself and half-lept, half-rolled passed the thing.
Gramorn's sling bullet clunks against the hard metal exterior of the robot, dealing little damage but leaving a nasty looking dent in the chassis. Davina is confident her mighty blade can do more - until she leans into the swing.
Perhaps a bit too distracted with keeping Val safe, the barbarian loses the grip on her weapon and sends it flying into the wall, where it sticks firm. Val's eyes go wide. "Whoa! You're supposed to stop it from wrecking the place, not help it!" Val glances down at the wrench, then at the window, then back to the wrench. "Good idea, though." The girl leans back and, with a greatly exaggerated gesture, hurls the wrench at the robot.
It rebounds off the top of the robot - not even leaving a dent. She looks disappointed, but huddles near the back of the room and rummages through some stuff.
Satisfied that his blow connected, Gramorn readied another pebble and launched it towards the robot.
"Tougher than stone..."
6/11
Without any better recourse to take, Gramorn quickly loads another rounded stone bullet and launches it at the contraption. Again it plinks against the metal, leaving a tiny nick in the dull, partly corroded metal.
Will, trapped between a walking metal deathtrap and a hard place, opts to duck and roll around the device. The creature swing at him wildly, but its frantic movements are too slow on the clumsy, tripod legs. The entire robot swings around to face Will, but passes by Davina as it rotates. The devices pauses, its single crimson eye seemingly focusing and refocusing, before deciding to take a swing at the woman instead. Davina sees the clumsy blow coming and ducks back just enough, avoiding serious injury as the four-fingered steel hand scraps across several studs in her armor.
Will retreated, heading for the freedom and safety of the door. The pain in his leg made him limp a little and fueled an irritated, indignant anger.
He raised his hand again, and let the magic free, he spoke the words and remembered the feeling of the magic and it came to him. Magic missile. It seared from the pit of his stomach and down his arm in a rush of heady, thrilling power and flew from his fingertips.
Davina growled and hissed inwardly as the robot connected, displeased at the turn of events. Being disarmed and clonked over the head by a homicidal bucket of bolts was not a good start to this adventure. Resisting the urge to completely lose control, especially in front of a youth, Davina breathed deeply and counted to herself.
Reaching for her mace, Davina's hands clutched the weapon as she pulled back and took a swing at the robot, her focus on the head of the silvery bastard as she bit back curses in Hallit.
"Seriously!?!" Davina moaned under her breath in Hallit, a bit embarrassed that her and her associates have not taken out what is a seemingly basic contraption compared to the many mechanical artifacts she has seen in her time. Although far from an expert, Davina knew someone like Khonnir probably didn't have the resources to build complex creatures.
Or so she hoped.
With one last frustrated cry, Davina swung her mace at the middle part of the robot.
2/11
Davina is not bothered with the loss of a weapon - as a native of Numeria, she knew the merits of walking around with an armory upon one's back. With a quick grab for the nearest of her weapons, she finds a spare heavy mace in hand - perfect for crushing metal.
She lunges forward, but the robot pivots unexpectedly and twists, avoiding her attack - purposely or otherwise.
With the growing pain in his leg urging him to end the battle quickly, Will hobbled his way back towards their team's ingress while he finished the incantations for a quick missile of force energy. The arc of magic leaps from his fingers and darts across the building, piercing a searing hole through the side of the machine. It twists and turns, but still manages to hold itself upright. It jerks at a precarious angle and throws another odd-angled slam at Davina. This time the warrior sees it coming and quickly hops over the attack as she readies her riposte...
Which then falls flat onto a plate of surprisingly tough metal. The creature seems wholly unfazed by the attack, its single eye still glowing red.
"Girl!" Will barked loudly in his workshop voice, a voice calculated to be heard over the sound of trip hammers and roaring forges. It was loud in the small room, but not malicious. "Over here, child, the door!"
"Now then," he growled, looking at the drone closely for a sign of a weak spot. He saw what he thought was a likely target and aimed his next blast at that spot.
Summoning forth the magic and molding it to suit, he sent a blast of electrical energy into the target area.
Gramorn tries one more time to hit the robot with his pebbles.
The blight druid grew desperate with his attacks and decided to pull to aid his allies by creating distraction.
"I am blight, and I speak for all that decays. Have at you!"
Davina's patience wore thin as she tried again with her mace, aiming towards the center of the robot, hoping that would smash a central holding spot.
"I hate you, you stupid metal thing!" Davina tried her best to hold in her rage, not wanting to frighten the girl, but she knew if this hunk of junk wasn't fell in the next minute or so, she was getting perilously close to the end of her rope.