Edda readies the Forge card, but does not activate it yet.
She returns to the others and describes what she saw.
"If I were to approach any further by air, he might see me easily since there is no cover. I have no idea if he can hurt me from range, but I suspect he could, somehow. Any ideas on our approach? If the man is direct, then WE should be direct. I could easily blast him from the air...if we still wanted to take that route."
"Well, we can always save fighting him for when communication breaks down." Basil says, still concerned about the stability of the world they're in. "But we need his token nonetheless. We should see if we can just get it from him."
"Let's go over and have a chat then," says Niklos. "No way of knowin' what he wants afore we ask the man 'imself..."
He digs out what might once have been a white handkerchief, waving it as a sign of truce as he approaches the forge.
Edda lands.
"Lets go together for now. I would like to hear what this guy has to say for himself."
As you climb the twisting stairs, you get in sight of the forge, close enough to hear the sound of hammers and bellows, as well as deep voices chatting. Suddenly, the chat ends, and three heads surrounded by a crown of fire pop out over a low wall, looking at you.
"Hey, you ********* ******! Get the **** away from our forge, ugly **** of ********** *****! ******! Take a ****** and ****** ****** ****** or just **** *** **** out!" shouts the first, in your general direction, before the other two chime in, this time slinging some really offensive words.
Edda shrugs.
"HM. Why are dwarves the cursing-jerks in every story? I know sailors that curse more than they do!"
With that, Edda begins her own tirad of foul-mouthed nonsense.
"Take those beards and hammers and shove them up your ********!!!"
This tirade goes on for about 3 or 4 minutes.
"Well... Those are combinations of words I've never heard of before." Basil admits, his ears turning away from the tirade of angry words.
Even Niklos is somewhat taken aback by the sheer volume of profanity being slung back and forth between Edda and the strange dwarves. While the two parties stop for breath before another barrage, he does his best to get a word in. "Yeah, uh... f*ck you! We don't give a sh*t about your forge. Just point us to the Ticktock Man, and we'll f*ck right off..."
Edda pulls out the 'Brass Dwarf' Card displaying it for the weird fire-dwarves.
The magic of the ancient Harrow card, together with the teamed insults of Edda and Niklos, appear to impress the fire dwarves.
"Well, you ****** pansies, you swear like ******* ****** nine year olds, but you put in some *********** effort. Come up!"
One of them pulls a lever, causing a noise like something grinding to a halt. Looking upwards, you see a stone ledger rise, blocking a small avalanche that was apparently headed your way.
As you get to the forge, you see it stocked with all kinds of blacksmith tools, and two of the creatures have come back to hammering and quenching pipes and wrenches. Another welcomes you in its own way. "Well good ****** day to you. Here to see the boss, am I ****** right? You'll have to pass through the ********'s pub, then the old smithy and its ******* ****** **** of a ******* ****** ** an' ******** occupant. Wanna drop a word to the old tickin' *******?"
Smiling at the salty language, Edda feels almost at home.
"You better ******* believe it! Now get your Brassy-******* out of our way!"
"Wanna drop a word to the old tickin' *******?"
Niklos nods along, doing his best to parse all the useful information from the sea of expletives. "Well, that's only fair, ain't it? Seeing as you're doing us a favour, and all that. What do you want said?"
"No, I mean, the way to his place's a ******* hell of a labyrinth, but he had the *********** idea to set up a pipe to tell us our ********* duties without moving his fat ********* ***. We share a ******** wall but he's claiming placing a ******** ******** door would be a ********* risk! So if you wanna ********** tell 'im you're coming, speak in the ********* copper pipe down there, an' he'll hear you, if he's not busy *********** around."
Edda hesitates at the speaking tube presented by the odd dwarves and talks to the others.
"Should we announce we're coming? He doesn't seem to like visitors much from what we've uncovered."
Niklos stops to consider the issue, losing some of his former bravado as he weighs the merits of both approaches. Overcome by sudden anxiety, he thinks on the previous time he went into obvious danger without heeding the omens. This state of uncertainty seems to take longer than he can stand, finally resulting in him yanking out a card to decide for him...
He shows the card to Edda, sighing in relief. "Well, it looks like the cards are telling me to listen to you. Fine, let's play it safe then. I'll go look ahead..."
The way forward leads to a giant-sized drinking room showing signs of wear, a layer of dust covering the lone table and bar. Two sets of double doors
in the southeast corner lead out of the room. A dozen of drunken fire dwarves are slumping on oversized stools, while a cyclops is cleaning glasses with a bored look. He doesnt't look like he noticed Niklos sneaking in.
Stepping up and wanting to avoid another confrontation, Edda follows in Niklos steps.
Basil lets Niklos lead the way, considering how dangerous the place would be if a fight broke out and what he could use to his advantage in this area.
Niklos motions for the others to remain a few steps behind him, sneaking up to the southeastern door and checking it for locks and traps.
There are no traps on the oversized door, and although Niklos has to tiptoe to get to the lock, it's definitely easier to pick a lock this large, and it clicks open without too much effort. However, the passage is in full view of the cyclops, and he would surely notice if the door were to open... unless a distraction was provided.
Whispering to Niklos, Edda smirks conspiratorially.
"Got any ideas?"
"Bar Fight?" Gisele will whisper, trying to get a better look around. "Maybe not, they look too drunk."
Niklos rubs his chin and peeks back into the room.
"A fire could work," he muses. "Set their booze alight. That should get their attention, those damn drunkards. Anyone got a spark? I've got some of this, but just one dose..."
The scoundrel produces a securely sealed vial of sulphurous liquid and offers it to the group.
Edda nods.
"Those dwarves look like they are already on fire, so I doubt it would hurt them any. However, the only fire magic I know is too flashy to be used here."
Turning to Basil and Gisele, Edda raises an eyebrow.
"Either of you have the Mage Hand spell handy? That should work to set the vial in the optimal position for a distraction."
"No, but I've got luck like you wouldn't believe." Basil replies, giving a smirk.
"Mage Hand is one of the spells I am versed in. Gisele mentions. "Where would you like it?"
With Niklos directions, Gisele floats the vial along the ceiling until it is over the ale barrels. Then dismisses the spell, letting the vial fall.
Anywhere but the Harrowed Realm, someone would have questioned the wisdom of placing highly-flammable ale next to a bunch of fire dwarves on the top of a volcano. But logic's grasp on the Realm is tenuous, and the alchemist's fire cracks, setting ablaze a pool.
"Hoy, Voricose" says lazily the dwarf closest to the fire, pausing to belch loudly, vapors igniting in an azure cloud as they pass his flaring head "the ********** stocks are on ******* fire again."
The cyclops rolls his eyes, grabbing a heavy wool blanket from under the bar and walking over to the blaze to smother it. "This is going on your tab, Gurgut."
As the customers and the publican start arguing over responsibilities, they are too busy to notice the four slipping away through the door and into what looks like an abandoned workshop. A massive sinkhole hole takes up the southeastern half of the room, leading to a blazing hot chamber beneath. More astonishing, however, is the massive stone head poking through it, attached to a far larger body below.
The only occupant of this room is a fire giant kneeling on the ground, chiseling away at a stone tablet, surrounded by other scratch-covered similar ones. He doesn't seem to hav
He doesn't seem to have noticed you.
Knowing a few giants from back home, Edda feels a little sorry for a politically active one, and just attempts to disable him temporarily with her Slumber Hex!
With a poderose yawn, the massive humanoid slumps over his stone tablet, snoring loudly, his breath merging with the background sound of gears and cranks rotating.
Looking around his body, you find a bag filled with shiny rocks. Most look worthless, but you recognize a handful of rubies and a rough garnet as big as a man's head.
Talking quietly, Edda immediately hooks her thumb over her shoulder animatedly.
"He won't be out for long...let's get outta here. Gracious me! Such pretty stones! Anyway..."
EDIT:
You move past the slumbering giant, who's sleep-talking about glorious revolution and freedom, and into a small room that looks like a storage for construction materials of sorts: wood tables, steel bars, pain barrels and threadbare cloth. Past the next door, you finally find yourself in the beating heart of the Harrowed Realm: this mammoth chamber houses man-sized gears, pendulums, and screws amid puffs of steam. The noise rattles through the room, occasionally shaking free bits of the stone walls. Hammering furiously at a piece of pipe you see a small, halfling-like cowled figure, his skin stone and iron, spouting profanities at each blow of the hammer.
As you enter, the pipe cracks and splinters, and with a yell of frustration, the creature throws the tool at the door. Niklos effortlessly ducks and the Ticktock Man notices you, squeaking in fear and scrambling under a nearby workbench. "She sent, you, didn't she? That cowardly ant! To murder me! ME! The Pillar holding this Realm! As if she doesn't need me! Who sends steam to the Manmolds, freaking Balimar? But you aren't going to take me down easily! Give up! Flee! And I may as well be merciful! And for Sonnorae's sake, LET ME WORK! Isn't it enough that I'm forced to do all this? Just because I'm THE ONLY ONE who can keep things running! Sevenfold cursed the day I struck at her!"
His diction is crisp and rigid and his voice is high-pitched like a silver bell, rising to a metallic shriek as he grows irritated. You feel like he had a great need to vent some frustration.
Edda waves a hand.
You know...I was expecting something more impressive. I can actually say I'm a bit disappointed."
Niklos snickers under his breath. "Now, now, Edda! No need to be rude."
Turning towards the Ticktock Man, he nods affirmatively. "Yeah, we we're sent by Queenie. However, aside from boredom, I ain't got no need to see you dead. So, how about you hand over your token, and we'll be on our merry way. Otherwise, you chance us killing you—even temporarily—and everything might go to hell in a handbasket while you're away. Why take the risk? Be reasonable, mate."
"My what? Ah, the token. Wait. The token? Why d'you need the token? Unless... no. No, it can be. Can it be? Is it? Are you seeking to slay Zassrion?"
Without leaving you time to answer, he peeks above the workbench, eyes glimmering in his earthen skin.
"Right, right, all right, how about this. A favor for a favor. The Nightpeddler's been keeping a shipment of precious metals from me. Adamantine, mithral, sort of things I need to keep this PIECE! OF! GARBAGE! running. By the way, can you pass the hammer?"
"Anyway, I need those metals. If you get them to me, I'll give you the token and, uh, there are some tools I got lying around, weapons and armor and somesuch. And, uhm, -considering the weight of adamantine, decay rate one hundredth of copper, a thousand barrels of ale, two centuries of pain at one day per day- yes, you can murder the creepy bastard to death, I'll still manage to keep up with my work until he comes back, Marzalee will be happy and MAYBE she'll LET! ME! WORK! How's that?"
"That sounds like a good deal." Basil observes. "What do you three think?"
Edda sighs...
"Whatever."
"And where can we find this Nightpeddler?"
"Oh, you can find him..." The Ticktock Man moves to a large orrery and starts spinning it, metal shining blades of light in the dark room. "...well, not by looking for him. And not by waiting for him, that's for sure. If we can trust this thing, he's camping in the Trackless Dearth. And if we can't, I have no clue."
The orrery stops, metal crieking menacingly, and the creature returns to his workbench, rustling among spare parts. "You know the way? Just get lost in the Briar, you'll get there eventually. All things that are lost find their way to each other, in the Dearth. Including, apparently, MY! DAMNED! COPPER! PIPES!"
Rushing to the other end of the room to shout indistinctly through a hole, presumably at the fire dwarves.
Edda grimaces.
"Trackless Dearth? Why does that sound like some sort of desert? I hate sand."
"Because it is. Have you ever tried getting sand out of clockworks? Bloody nightmare, I'll tell you."
Niklos considers the offer, tapping his foot and grasping the hilt of his rapier. "Well, that seems like an awfully long trip, and we're already here... then again, I don't fancy still being around if and when things go to sh*t. And I suppose we would have to visit this Nightpeddler fellow regardless, seeing as he is a Conspirator as well..."
Turning back to the diminutive caretaker, he narrows his eyes appraisingly. "Fine. Tockers, mate! We'll be off, so... uh... mind telling your boys to let us through, no hassle? It'll save us some time, and you'll have your pipes in sooner..."
"Uh, sure, look on that corner table, the one loaded with old trinkets. There should be a few silver badges, I used them for couriers."
Rustling among the junk covering the table you do indeed find a dozen of old badges marked with clock hands. They are tarnished and battered, but the craftmanship is solid.
Basil will simply pick up and pocket the lens while he's picking up a badge and everyone's bodies are blocking the view of the Ticktock man, deciding to wait to tell the group until they leave the immediate environs. Unless the Ticktock man is actively watching them, that is. Or it's too big/heavy to pick up easily, but I doubt it is.
Edda looks at the others, and sees Basil grab something from the table casually.
"OK...well thanks for the dirt and steam Mr T. Gotta go kill a Nightpeddler. Whatever that is."
Noticing Basil's somewhat unsubtle attempt at thievery, Niklos does his best to block visibility to the rabbit-man, as well as babbling inanely to keep the Ticktock Man distracted until the group is ready to leave.
Basil pockets the trinket, and indeed Niklos easily notices. And you all grab a badge.
While on your way back, you stumble across the fire giant that Edda had knocked out earlier. He's back at work on the signs, but this time he notices you, since he's facing the door towards the workshop, and he welcomes you with open arms and a fierce smile.
"And who are you! Not lackeys of that deplorable technocrat, I hope? You do seem freedom-lovers, independent thinkers, revolutionary fellows who will join the struggle for Giantkinds' right to autodetermine! You may be small giants, but if your hearts are righteous, you will rise taller than the sky! Unite! We have nothing to lose but chains!"
He dramatically points to an empty box with a Giant word that could be translated as "Cheyns" written in crude letters.
"And indeed they are lost! Ha! Another triumph for the cause!"
Edda buries her forehead in the palm of her hand and shakes her head.
"Crap."
She then looks at the giant, fingers pinching the spot between her eyes.
She then moves to pass the insane giant, waving her new badge and hoping it protects her from further conversation.