An isolated bastion of civilization in the magic- blasted wasteland known as the Mana Wastes in western Garund, the Grand Duchy of Alkenstar is one of the most unique cities in the Inner Sea region. Alkenstar stands atop a massive cliff overlooking the Spellscar Desert, the mighty Ustradi River bisecting the settlement as it flows over the Alken Falls on its way north to Nex. The city’s mastery of science amid the unpredictable magic of the Mana Wastes has Alkenstar’s influence extend beyond its local region, and its innovations such as firearms, clockworks, and alchemy keep it a relevant part of the larger economy.
....at least that's what the text books say about this place...
Ask a citizen and it's a different story, they'll tell you of the stifling heat, the endless days of humid smog, being afraid to step beyond the city walls for fear of what lies beyond....
Still, whatever they may call it, it's a home for you; at least for now.....
...and today finds you in the Ferrous Quarter; this grimy district in Smokeside is the location of many of Alkenstar’s most famous taverns and small artisan workshops. Adventurers flock to the quarter’s myriad rumormongers and city criers in search of the latest gossip, though trustworthy leads are in scarce supply. More prevalent are the delicacies and powerful ales served at the many inns, taphouses, and eateries lining Ferrous Quarter’s primary thoroughfare, Hammer Avenue. Visitors with sufficient coin can find nearly any sort of Garundi traditional food for purchase along this main street.
One of the oldest markets in Alkenstar has grown up in a large square where Hammer Avenue bisects the Lane of Alloys and it is here, amongst the gaudily decorated stalls and the throng of citizens and traders going about their daily business, that our story starts...
dotting.
Every name in her address book had led to a dead-end. One by one, she had tried to track them down, fellow lovers of music and art, but they were nowhere to be found. Through neighbors and speaking to passers-by, she discovered that most of them had fled the city, when they could, or tried to blend and renounce their old paths. It was a depressing time.
Twylla came to the marketplace and found a seat beside a market stall. Maybe she had come too late...
The auburn-bearded dwarf stalks through the market, eyes sweeping from side-to-side under his black hat. The stub of a cigar juts from his mouth and a great black musket is strapped to a holster on his back. Where was that damnable gnome? Probably another dead end, but Istil was usually pretty reliable. Soon as I find 'im little mouth full of Betty'll make the little worm talk.
Little did Twylla know, in the stall next to her seat two men were arguing over a set of books bound together. One man was the merchant, a dwarf insisting that the books he held were none other than the Mysteries of Shadows, a three volume set found in the trunk of an abandoned caravan cart. The other, whose large brown eyes appeared elven but whose ears were that of any other man, was Scaramanga Root.
"Forgive my ignorance sirrah," he says to the merchant, almost mockingly "but I can't believe you sit on one of the rarest collection of books in the world. Especially that you sit on it in this damned wasteland, no less." some of his words were in dwarven, others in kellish accented common.
"Ah whaddaya know ya damned rascal! Every wizard I've shown this to has told me the same thing, lad." The dwarf retorted.
"If they were wizards, and I'm not saying they were, I would be curious as to why they didn't tell you that you were full of it!"
The argument continued on with pointed fingers and raised voices, sometimes friendly laughter.
From your positions around the market, with keen eyes trained across the crowded square everything seems entirely normal.
Time passes until, close to midday, over the general clamour of the market; the advertising of wares to be sold, the convivial chatting of the citizens, the occasional raised voice from the shops and the taverns, a new noise is heard. Faint at first but growing in volume, the unmistakable noise of an approaching brass guardian…the crashing of heavy metal feet against cobbles accompanied by the whirring and clanking of gears. The mood in the market changes instantly…
Of course you have heard the rumours, stories of the previously infallible protectors mysteriously breaking down and, more recently, tales of the brass guardians running amok causing indiscriminate damage and injury…all rumours of course as there has been no official word on the veracity of these stories…but, and you can see it now, the very citizens they were designed to protect are scared…
Turning the corner and moving into the market square, the brass guardian looks no more innocuous in the city of smog than it has ever done before. Yet, whereas people would have previously milled around their clockwork protectors, now there is a very empty space around the walking machine. The market square falls silent as the thronged masses hold their breath and wait to see what happens next…all eyes are on the guardian as it ponderously moves into the centre of the square. Towering above the citizens at some ten to twelve feet high, the brass guardian is an imposing construct and, even before the current rumours had spread amongst the populace, would command a degree of respect. Standing impassively in the centre of the square, its head rotates through a full 360 degrees surveying the scene…
…suddenly there is a furious whirring sound from deep within the guardians' body accompanied by a crunching of metal grinding against metal…people around you scream in panic and start to scatter from the market…
…then nothing, the guardian just stops…
…and stands perfectly motionless and silent…
…the sun glinting on the brass statue in the centre of the square…
The gnome was proving impossible to find. Must've gotten word to make himself scarce... For what must be the tenth time today Bragi shoved his way out of a small shop, this one selling various glass pipes and bottles imported from some town in Qadira when he sensed something change in the crowds on the street. Then the crash of the brass guardian. Just nervous, this one hasn't gone crazy yet...don't blame them for keeping their distance. The dwarf is about to turn his back and move on to the next shop the gnome is said to frequent when he hears the sound. That furious, whirring sound. Damn if that doesn't sound just like the one that lost it down by Old Bridge back near the start of this nonsense. Bragi's mind races back to the fight that claimed the lives of two shieldmarshals and ten citizens before he helped put the guardian down.
With a smooth motion, the black-hatted dwarf draws Black Betty from his back, just in time to see the guardian stop. "Aw s~@$..." Now what? Is it going to go berserk or go to sleep. "Spider, get out here now, we might have trouble!" A tiny spider made from black slate scrambles out of Bragi's bandoleer and perches on the end of his musket. Cautiously, Bragi draws a bead on the guardian and slowly advances...watching...waiting...
Finnian wandered the market casually looking at wares. He was more interested in soaking in the atmosphere of Alkenstar to see if he had made a good choice. The proliferation of firearms was somewhat dissapointing as he had a feeling that they would dominate the field. However, the reliance on thses metal guardians gave him heart. No machine could match Finnian's skill and swordsmanship and he looked forward to proving it. He also picked up on the current growing distrust over the constructs, another opportunity for him.
Rounding a corner he saw one of these metal guardians. The sudden noise and reaction of the crowd put him on alert and his sword was out in a flash. There would be no running for Finnian. Cautiously, he approached the construct.
As the crowd flows out of the square, two figures cautiously approach the inert machine, weapons poised and ready…
...and then, looking back into the square, the citizens realise that the brass guardian has merely stopped….
Panic is quickly replaced by an atmosphere of derision as howls of laughter (although you could probably say that it is slightly relieved laughter) erupt around the square. Almost as quickly as the chaos had descended, the normal hubbub of the Market returns with little notice given to the guardian standing lifelessly in the square. Any examination of the Brass Guardian by yourselves reveals nothing, the machine appears completely defunct.
Whilst the adults continue to shout, barter and laugh, children start to play in the shadow of the brass guardian…whether it is to shelter from the sun, to show how brave they are or ignorance matters little…one brave boy, maybe ten years of age, boldly climbs on to the immobile machine and, producing chalk from within his clothing, crudely draws a fools' face on the visage of the guardian…The boys' playmates whoop in delight and admiration at his bravery and at his juvenile humour.
Suddenly and without any warning, the brass guardian bursts into 'life'…to screams of horror from around the square, it grabs the boy in its' oversized hand and tosses him across the square where he crashes into a wall landing in a mangled heap of broken limbs. With the sounds of gearwheels accelerating inside its' torso, the malfunctioning monstrosity bears down upon the scattering crowd…
Scaramanga's concentration is broken as he hears the boy crash into the wall, the sickening muffled sound of bones breaking jarring him to attention. He takes a careful look at the construct and wanders have I seen this before?. He then kisses the ring on his finger and disappears, literally, into the crowd in front of him.
They shouldn't have let down their guard
Finnian darts towards the construct dodging the last few feet to slip under it's reach.
Swift=enter Crane Stance. Move= move to G7 using Acrobatics for last 5' to avoid AoO, Standard= attack construct, fighting defensively and using Power Attack. Free=release off hand from sword.
damage *note* sword is made of adamantine.
AC-33
CMD-36, +6 vs Sunder, Grapple, Disarm, & Trip
hp-81/81
status- crane stance, fighting defensively
"The bigger that they are...the harder that they fall?" Twylla reaches into the shadow realm and covers the area below the brass guardian with a slippery grease.
Holding B!tchin' Betty in one hand, Black Bragi begins waving the bystanders away, "Gods damn it you idiots. Get out of the way in case it...oh s!+@!" Too late, the dwarf's jaw drops with disbelief as the boy is thrown across the market. "Get. Down. Now!" Rapidly assessing the positions of bystanders, Bragi aims Betty at the Brass Guardian and fires off four shots, reloading after each with his hands a blur of motion.
Shouting for people to move out of the way, there are a series of explosions as the dwarf lets a fearsome salvo loose from his gun. Two of his shots find their target as the bullets leave dents and holes in the Brass Guardians armour
An elven looking lady at the periphery of the Town Square, standing resolute in a sea of panic, simply stares at the malfunctioning guardian…
…and it promptly falls over…limbs flailing wildly as it loses its footing...
A sole human elects to engage the Guardian in combat…perhaps mistaking its fall for a catastrophic failure, the man fails to exercise enough caution on approaching the prone machine and, although he attempts to leap out of the way is hit by a flailing arm
Brushing the attack off, the man adopts a more defensive position and, seeing a gap in the machines armour, pluges his sword into its torso. There is a terrible screaching of gears and cogs tearing…metal on metal…but the blow is not decisive.
Standing, the Brass Guardian looms over the man and, for the second time, slams a large metal hand against him.
As the construct stands, Finnian takes advantage of its momentary vulnerability.
damage
Then when the creature attacks he easily swats the blow aside and ripostes.
damage
Finnian's blade becomes a blur as he attacks all out
Swift=Adaptive Tactics (Sense motive DC=10+BAB of target) for a +2 to hit. Full round=full attack with same modifiers as before and gaining Defensive Parry as well.
damage
damage
damage
AC-34
CMD-37 (+6 vs grapple, sunder, disarm, and trip)
hp-61/81
status- Crane stance, fighting defensively
crit damage
Twylla begins to rush impetuously towards the lone figure facing the construct in hand-to-hand combat, but stops herself upon realizing the danger. She calls out to him. "Discharge this spell on the construct, channel it from your blade! It will blind it." She opens her right fist into the sign of a flame, and Finnian's blades begin to shine brightly.
Scaramanga watches with curiosity as warriors descend on the construct. "Only adamantine will fully penetrate her shell," he calls out, though no one can see him, "Be wary of that! She also has a pencaht for exploding!" He draws his revolver, takes a few steps back and fires two shots into the back of the construct
"Adamantine, eh? Always wondered why these bastards were so hard to drop." Black Bragi reaches into a lower area on his bandoleer. Pulling out a handful of his prized adamantine bullets, the dwarf reloads and continues firing into the Brass Guardian.
With the Brass Guardian clumsily returning to its feet, the swordfighter catches sight of a large opening in the Guardians armour; plunging his sword forwards, his blade sinks deep into the clockwork innards of the machine. Moments later as the Guardian clumsily swings at his assailant, the man easily ducks the pummeling fist and, spinning on his heel, slices the arm clean off the machine. This proves to be the deathblow….the machine comes to an abrupt halt...
If Scaramamga had had time to cry a warning, he surely would have…for he would have known that such machines do not simply stop…the high pressure and stored energy within the clockwork winding and the pistons has to be released somehow and…with a screaming of tearing metal, those stood near the machine are caught in an explosion of cogs, gears and shrapnel.
.
Fortunately, none of the bystanders within the square were caught within this potentially fatal blast…in fact, as the dust and smoke clears, you can see that the square stands almost completely empty as the panicked crowd pushes its' way down the neighbouring streets. The child who had been flung across the square remains lying on the ground with two adults kneeling next to him...
Twylla runs over and kneels next to the boy (or his corpse, anyways) to check if he's still alive.
Finnian rolls with the blast, but still takes substantial damage from flying gears and shrapnel. He looks around in alarm before realizing that no one else was harmed. He heads to a fountain to clean off some and sits tiredly on the edge. He kneads his shoulder that absorbed the first blow from the construct and winces in pain.
"Damn, that thing hits hard! I think I need to find a bed."
He nods at the gunman.
Thanks for the help, friend. I really didn't want to get hit again."
Finnian then looks to the group by the child hoping against hope that he is not dead.
The black hatted dwarf walks forward and extends a hand to Finnian. "You might have been hit hard, but you hit harder. Nice fighting. Now let's have a look and see if this one left any clues, then we can see about patching you up. I'm glad that woman is already looking after the boy. It got him even worse than you." Black Bragi stoops over and begins picking through the remains of the guardian. Hoping to find something that might be a clue to the creature's behavior.
The adults, a man and a woman, next to the fallen child turn to Twylla and Finnian, "That monstrosity…." the woman choking on her tears, "…could have killed our boy…". The boy, head cradled in his mothers arms, is unconcious but breathing. The man stands and with a voice full of accusation, "Why didn't you stop it sooner? Why is it my boy lying here? Why not you?", his voice trails off….
- There is nothing obvious that you can determine within the wreckage of the Brass Guardian…to the untrained eye, it looks like a heap of broken cogs, pistones, levers and gear wheels.
In the aftermath of the explosion, the crowd does not return…the plume of smoke issuing from the wrecked guardian serving as a warning beacon to the citizens that trouble is brewing...and to those appointed to keep the peace in Alkenstar, the Shieldmarshals, a sign that their attention is needed. A few minutes, at most, pass before the first of Alkenstar's wardens appear…badge in one hand and pistol in the other, a middle aged man with a demeanour that would best be described as surly, looks at the motley collection of individuals gathered in the square…
Some kind of elf? And who's that fellow covered in blood?…strangers and not to be trusted
Oh, and Bragi…I have never liked him…not surprised to see him here
...and that half breed Elf...I know we've been watching him...is he to blame for this?
"You….yes, You!!!!! ...Put down your weapons…and stand over there…", with a degree of self assuredness that borders on arrogance, he gestures you towards one of the market stalls and then moves to the citizens and their injured child.
Scaramanga moves toward the stall, though his eyes flicker around the square, looking for an escape.
Twylla looks the boy's father directly in the eye. "Your boy is lying there on the ground because it is the plan of the divines, like all the things. This trauma is not for the child, but for you. Think about that, and stand back."
Her hands begin to glow as she grabs the boy's shoulders, and lights begin to dance along the boy's body, knitting his wounds. Twylla pushes the boy upright by his shoulders as she is healing him, until he is fully vertical and fully awake. "By the power of the divines, you are restored; they have claimed you as one of their own." She performs a blessing on the child, stands up, and starts to walk off.
"Put down my weapon? Sure, I'll do that as soon as you make sure there are none of these contraptions running amok! You should be thanking me for doing your job for you instead." Finnian growls indignantly.
He stands up glaring at the warden.
Sigh, here we go... Bragi slides B!itchin' Betty back into the holster on his back.
The couple stand amazed as their child quickly returns to health...full of vigour....but their amazement is tempered, more than a little, by Twylla's impetuous words. Regardless they make great show of hugging their son and asking that he, indeed, okay.
"I will not ask again Sir....PUT YOUR WEAPON DOWN!!!!", the Shieldmarshal's pistol is very much trained on Finnian now....with his aim remaining fixed on the swordfighter, the Shieldmarshal has a hushed conversation with the parents of the child. Standing too distant from the conversation continuing around the injured child, you are unable to determine exactly what is being said; what is clear though is that the Shieldmarshal does not yet feel comfortable enough with the situation, nor with 'the strangers', to lower his aim. In between exchanges with the childs' parents, he glares at you, his expression full of mistrust.
As the discussion continues, more and more of Alkenstar's lawmen arrive until, no later than five minutes after the Brass Guardian first went haywire, there are a total of ten Shieldmarshals in the square… and not one of them will engage you in conversation beyond requesting that "you stay exactly where you are…and no funny business….."
Scaramanga chooses not to risk an escape, standing firm as he is surrounded by Shieldmarshalls.
Meanwhile across the square, the first Shieldmarshal to have arrived appears to be finishing his discussions with the child and his parents. Whilst you are still unable to determine the details of what is being said, there does appear to be a certain amount of pointing and gesturing towards you. Moving away from the citizens at last, the Shieldmarshal gathers four of his colleagues (who have been standing guard at the junctions with the roads leading into the squares) and moving towards you, announces "I have just been told a very interesting story…a very interesting story indeed…"
"It seems to me that you are responsible for stopping what could have happened here today…Eric's parents over there", gesturing towards the adults, "tell me that you dealt with the Guardian very quickly…and that you restored young Eric's health ".
Nodding at his compatriots, the Shieldmarshall continues, "We would commend you for what you have done today yet it was never your responsibility or right to do so, we would have dealt with the Guardian in a less destructive manner", with a slightly apologetic look upon his face, ".....Persons know and persons unknown, you are to be placed under arrest for the crime of destruction of Town property".
In unison, the Shieldmarshals approach you with weapons drawn…
"You would be wise to cooperate"
Well, at least he looks embarassed about it.
"Arrest, eh? Well, I'll come with you to at least speak with someone in authority. Lead on and lets get this sorted out, I'm more interested in getting some rest and recuperation anyhow."
Finnian stands and gives the Shieldmarshall an expectant look as if to say, what next. He sheathes his sword, but makes absolutely no move to relinquish it.
The grizzled lawman, gestures along Hammer Avenue, to the East. "Now, if you would be so good as to follow me?"
You have little time to respond to the Shieldmarshal before you are made aware that you are being watched….
Looking to the sky you can see, silhoutted against the smog of the day, two winged brass constructs, each the size of a small bird of a prey, flitting and hovering. As far as you can tell, from a distance, these constructs are not armed…they hover in place, apparently suveying the Town Square, for less than a minute and then move, at speed, out of sight towards the south.
…and then, that noise again…the noise of heavy metallic footsteps on stone…the noise of an approaching Brass Guardian…in fact, the noise of several Brass Guardians…
The grouped Shieldmarshals tense and, as one, turn to the south, weapons ready…towards the increasingly loud marching.
*sigh*
"Can I draw my sword now?"Finnian asks exasperatedly.
Bragi scowls and chomps down on his cigar, "You sure you still want us to follow you boys? Sounds like things might be about to get more exciting here. I think our friend with the sword might have the right idea."
"Blasted..." Scaramanga says, his hand twitching toward his own gun.
The atmosphere becomes unbearably tense with the sound of the approaching Brass Guardians. The Shieldmarshals completely ignore you and adopt defensive positions around the square...
...crash...clunk...crash...clunk...crash...clunk...
The lead Shieldmarshal shouts to his colleagues,"If these are hostile, take them down!!!!"
...CRASH...CLUNK...CRASH...CLUNK...CRASH...CLUNK...
Until, around the corner of Hammer Avenue, three Brass Guardians stride into view...
"On my command...", Pistols and muskets are aimed towards the new arrivals...and then, "HOLD!!!!!"
Beyond the rising panic, you see (as has the lead Shieldmarshal), that these clockwork machines are tethered by chain and, having reached their destination, stand perfectly still...passive...
"Shieldmarshall!!!!...would you please appraise me of the current situation?", striding into view from behind the guardians, a lady in ministerial robes immediately takes authority of the situation.
"The criminals ...attend to the criminals...", the Shieldmarshal barks orders at his charges and, pistol holstered at last, strides towards the minister. Facing away from you, you are unable to hear exactly what is being said....although the discussions are distinctly heated.
"So she's the cause of all these problems?" she mutters under her breath.
Black Bragi lets go of a breath he didn't realize he was holding when Minister Baratella comes around the corner with the Brass Guardians. He hisses to the rest, "Eliza Baratella. Minister and Lead Engineer of the Brass Guild. Yeah, they're hers."
Eliza and the Shieldmarshal examine the wrecked Brass Guardian together…you can see the minister wincing at the extent of the damage caused to the clockwork machine…and from her very deliberate examination, it would appear to you that she is looking for something very specific within the machine and when, after less than a minute of examination, she seems to find it, her discussion with the Shieldmarshal becomes quite dictatorial rather quickly. As the volume of the discussion increases you are able to make out the final points that are being discussed.
The shieldmarshal, rather sheepishly, "….just doing my job, Ma'am…"
Eliza; "…well do it better in future then, investigate all of the relevant facts before arresting people you just don't know in future….".
Looking at his feet, the Shieldmarshal mumbles something along the lines law being better served by people and then, turning to his men, "Okay men, they're free to go…". The assembled shieldmarshals, as a man, holster their weapons and return to standing sentry at the entrance to the Town Square.
The minister strides over to you, "On behalf of Alkenstar, it falls to me to apologise for the over zealous behaviour of the Shieldmarshals…they are on edge and, frankly, looking for someone to blame in all of this…", catching herself, "My apologies, allow me to introduce myself, I am Minister Baratella and, in my capacity as Government and also as Councillor of the Brass Guild, I thank you for the service you have provided us with. The last guardian that ran amok killed several citizens and, one Shieldmarshal, before it was rendered inert…you have undoubtedly saved many lives today …and….I wonder…."
Eliza appears lost in thought for a moment and then, "Would you do me the honour of visiting the Brass Guild this evening? There may be a small matter that you could attend to…"
"I cannot speak for the others, but I would be happy to visit. If we need to deal with any more of these guardians, it would be helpful if you could tell us what they are capable of, what they are strong against, and what their weaknesses are?"
Black Bragi watches the Minister's investigation of the debris with interest. She knows something. What is she looking for in there? He strains to overhear the conversation with the Shieldmarshal, but it doesn't sound like she offers any hint of what she found before speaking to Bragi and the others. The dwarf waits for Twylla before responding, "Not just someone to blame ma'am, they're also doing their jobs and want to get to the bottom of this as badly as anyone. Used to work with them myself...I've done a few jobs for your Guild in recent months too. Of course, I'd be happy to visit tonight." Especially if it brings me closer to what exactly is going on here. I wonder if there'll be a chance to see what she saw in what's left of that Guardian.
Somewhat mollified, Finnian bows to the minister.
"Thank you good lady, I will gladly attend and offer what help I may."
Ah, a break, perhaps I can find something worthwhile here after all.
Eliza Baratella nods upon hearing each of your names; if she has previously been aware of you either arriving in or living in Alkenstar, she certainly doesn't reveal it.
Responding to Twylla, "Let us talk off the Brass Guardians this evening, I would rather not share such information in a public place…. Come to the Brass Guild at sundown this evening and I will answer all of your questions….as best as I am able." She smiles apologetically and takes your leave, "Until tonight then…". Turning on her heel, she walks over to the stationary Brass Guardians and, after a few short utterances, they reactivate…and move towards the destroyed Machine, collecting items of debris as they approach.
Twylla is interrupted as the minister charges off. She turns to her companions. "Well, where is this Brass Guild?"