Seeing his companions switching to diplomacy mode, Alldur waits to see how things play out, a spell on his lips.
"I will not fight you if you defeat Furkas and send me home."
"Counter-offer: You tell us what a Furkas is, where it is, and how to send you home, and then we'll defeat Furkas and send you home!" Poshment says sternly, doing his best impersonation of a courtroom lawyer, but one only based off of second-hand knowledge.
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"Furkas, is the ghost in charge of this place, he used to be the wizard in charge but he died years ago. Now he keeps us all here as his playthings. I don't know where he is, I'm not allowed to leave this room but I think he has a laboratory in the basement. If you defeat Furkas it will release my ties of service to him."
"Yikes! A GHOST?!" Poshment shouts. "Milani preserve us! And, you know, help us smite the s%+$ out of the ghost too. Explains why the hospitality's been so lackluster."
"Sounds like a deal to me," he says, turning to his allies. "Finish going up, then head down to the basement?"
'Sounds like a solid plan. I wonder, though, if we had just gone down instead of up, that we could have saved ourselves a lot of hassle.'
Zimdoz nods at Alldur, ”yes. But there’s no way to know whether up or down would be best. Anyway, I’m on board with not shooting anyone I can avoid shooting.” He whispers to Alldur and Poshment and Grezzag ”I am pretty low on ammo too so...”
Heading up the stairs you find yourselves in yet another atrium. There is a door immediately to the south from which you can hear nothing. There is also a door to the east from which you can hear a regular rhythmic creaking.
"Uhhhh, this one first?" Poshment suggests, pointing at the silent door. "Sounds like someone's getting it on in the other room, might as well give them a chance to finish up before barging in there!"
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'Should we stand outside the door and clear our throats loudly? You know, let them know that we'll be with them in a minute? They might have just started.'
The silent door opens into a small storeroom.
Loot: 4 tower shields
4 masterwork longswords
6 nets
4 masterwork heavy crossbows
200 crossbow bolts
20 silver bolts
40 cold iron bolts
5 screaming bolts
10 +2 human bane bolts.
While the loot is handled, Poshment clears his throat several times outside the other door. What starts off as intentional quickly turns into an obligation as his throat starts to get all funky. He doubles over coughing and begins to conjure water from his hand to pour into his mouth. "If... if they didn't... didn't know we... we where...," he gestures vaguely at the door. "You know."
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Zimdoz nods and checks for traps.
You do not find any traps on the door.
Getting the nod from Zimdoz, Grezzag holds his axe in one hand and opens the door.
Raw iron, spools of wire, and sturdy jars filled with colourful liquids line the north and east walls of this large room. A balcony crosses the room from northwest to southeast, looking over a sweltering workshop. A large iron and mithril swivel crane perches at the edge of the balcony, its boom long enough to reach the stores and lower them down into the foundry below.
"Hm. Rather disappointing development, really. So tame," Poshment comments.
Grezzag pops open the door to the north.
As Grezzag moves across the room the boom of the crane swings out and attacks.
"Ooooh, so the crane was doing the dirty! But... with what?" Poshment wonders out loud. "Okie-dokie, looks like a real bruiser either way. Milani, guide your most faithful revolutionaries, that's us, in case you're wondering, and make that horny crane keep it in it's pants!"
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Grezzag takes the hit on his armor like the tank he is and laughs. "Not even a scratch. Let's see how you do!" With borderline manic glee, the Half-Orc gets his axe spinning.
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Zimdoz delays until he sees what happens as Grezzag attacks the crane, being low on ammo.
Alldur moves forward to catch as many as he can with his spell.
Enraged Grezzag swings his double axe in a flash of steel and completely destroys the crane, pieces flying everywhere.
Alldur you recognise the creature as an animated object, specifically a crane. No vulnerabilities resistances
Grezzag spits on the heap of scraps.
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Poshment scowls at Grezzag. "I used some good magic just now and then you just blow the thing to pieces immediately. What a waste!" he complains.
With Grezzag standing triumphantly over what's left of the crane, the little Gnome opens the door to the north.
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The walls of this laboratory are painted bright white. A partially disassembled mechanical man spreads across an otherwise clean desk. The automaton's lower half is intact, but its arms are disconnected from its torso and its torso and head are both spread out in their component parts. The single eye in the middle of the creature's face is dim. Hatches lead out of this room to the west and southeast.
"Think we can turn this one into a friend? Or at least keep it from ever becoming an enemy?" Poshment asks the technologically inclined of the party.
Gressag heads over to the next door and opens it once everyone is ready.
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Zimdoz cheers a little as Grezzag dismantles the animated crane. Whey get to the next room, he examines the creature.
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Alldur also pours over the mechanoid, seeing if it is salvagable.
'This is the kind of opportunity I've been hoping for. Imagine, our own robot!'
You can repair the crane, however it is not very portable as its fixed to the floor (unless you can come up with a way to disconnect it and then carry it.)
The upper halves of the next room contains eight metal creatures hanging from hooks in the ceiling of this narrow room, each trailing wires from its torso like mechanical viscera.
"Gross...? I think it is gross. How do we know they aren't going to start moving and proceed to try to throttle us? I mean, I know they won't because we brought a Grezzag, but still, you know?"
You are able to repair the mechanical man, it is another riot robot. Zimdoz is able to modify its circuitry so that it sees you as allies.
Zimdoz wipes his brow, and nods at the others. ”um - what should we call it?” He waves at the robot. ”See Grezzag? Not all robots are bad.”
Grezzag growls at the machine. Stepping up to it, he pushes a finger into it's face and shoves it a little. "Fine, I guess this one can hang around. For now. Don't come crying to me when it stabs you in the back though!"
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'Perhaps it already has a name.' Alldur gently pushes Grezzag out of from the front of the robot and leans his own face in, almost touching the robot's. 'What is your designation!' The wizard practically shouts at the automaton.
"I am riot suppressor K4, what are your orders."
Zimdoz cackles happily. "Um, okay. Follow that guy - " he points at Grezzag, "and attack whatever he attacks, following the rule that you will do so without putting yourself in harms way, but trying to flank when possible." He smiles at K4.
"You've got to be s+~*ting me," Grezzag says with a shake of his head.
Annoyed, he opens the next door.
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The upper halves of eight metal creatures hang from hooks in the ceiling of this narrow room, each trailing wires from its torso like mechanical viscera.
The robot speaks, "Hello."
"Hi there Mr. Roboto, are these friends of yours? Zimdoz and Alldur, do you need to get your magic going again on these guys or what's the deal here? Looks like a butcher's cellar!" Poshment asks.
'Without legs I don't know much what use or threat they'd be. Maybe I can get one going again and see if it knows anything?' Alldur approaches the nearest half-robot and begins examining it.
"I regret that I do not recognise them Master."
As Alldur approaches the parts flail in his direction.
Grezzag grabs Alldur by the scruff of his robes and hauls him back to safety. "SEE?! Nothing but trouble!" he says, pointing at the mangled robots. "Unless you've got some of your magical mumbo-jumbo to turn them off, I'll do it myself!"
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Zimdoz nods, but when Alldur is hurt, he squeaks "agh, Alldur!" though he seems relieved that nothing worse happened. He holds up his little paw to Grezzag, "finesse!" His nose twitches and he carefully looks for a way to disable the half-robot.
Zimdoz is easily able to disarm the trap and the robot parts fall apart. Hanging from a hook at the southern end of the room is a nuglub skin drum.