Groomahk pounds his chest and snarls at the false image!
ngebmo' ghItlhvam! Hom nuch nuH wej HajchoHtaHvIS groomahk! ghor 'obmaQ!
Then, he crouches down, feeling around where the image was.
False image! Groomahk does not fear the weapons of weakling cowards! His ax will break them all!
The sworn band stepped through the rocks-that-were-not and find themselves in the mouth of a short tunnel that ends in a metal wall, its door standing open. Light shone from within. They found another iron cave beyond, its roof made of glowing squares. To either side, twisted machine innards twitched and turned, studded with wide thorns and fangs.
Another set of doors stood past the steel horrors, closed against the sworn band.
"Feels like we're walking into the belly of some giant metal beast. Think the beast knows we're here?"
Issuing a slight growl from the back of his throat, Rikal looks about. "If the beast thinks to swallow is, it will be slain from within."
Groomahk snarls at the twisted heaps of metal. Why wold they not stand against him at fight? Cowards! He snarls again, and then pays them no mind. Weaklings are not worth the effort of thought. He turns to the door and heaves against it with his mighty thews, forcing it open.
Groomahk snarls at the twisted heaps of metal. Why wold they not stand against him at fight? Cowards! He snarls again, and then pays them no mind. Weaklings are not worth the effort of thought. He turns to the door and heaves against it with his mighty thews, forcing it open.
Groomahk heaved at flat expanse of gray metal that made up the doors, but the might of his thews was not enough for the bewitched metal. As he worked, the iron innards of the room twitched to life, tiny pinpricks of witchlight racing down them for a moment as a disembodied voice spoke:
Lightning shot from a thousand points at once, striking the whole of the sworn band, and hurting Groomahk and Karek the worst.
Ref DC 16
"Aarrghh," Rikal says, as electricity courses through him. Glaring around the room, he curses in Hallit. "This beast believes us to be invaders. Perhaps we should break its teeth."
Groomahk roars in rage as the false-lightning bites his body! His body swells to the size of a giant, and the light of madness fills his eyes. His thews grow with power and froth drips from his tusks.
He draws his massive axe and launches himself on the workings of the metal men, smashing his axe into everything he can.
When the lightning passed, Chotka reached and tapped on the metal doors, testing their sturdiness.
When the lightning passed, Chotka reached and tapped on the metal doors, testing their sturdiness.
As Groomahk laid into the metal, striking sparks all about, Chotka tapped on the doors. They seemed untroubled by the false lightning and as sound as ever.
The metal voice spoke again:
A low growl issued forth from behind Chotka's fangs as he looked about. "What do the words of the metal men say? I do not understand their crackling and beeping noises," he snarled.
Rikal is momentarily torn. He does not wish to reveal he can understand their words, but knows that the translation is vital. Sighing, he says, "My tribe has several rituals for those who wish to become warriors. One of them involves drinking fluids not unlike those we have found here. There are vastly different reactions - some die, some become incredibly strong, some become dependent on them. These effects are used to determine if you are worthy of joining the warriors. When I consumed them, I was granted visions of strange creatures and metal men, and their strange language. Most nights since then, I have had similar visions. These visions have taught me the tongue of the metal men. Before the lightnings shot us, they said we needed to be "sterilized". Now, they say there is an electrical fault, something about needing to be fixed, and I think to present cards of some kind."
"Cards? Like those things we found before?"
Groomahk snarls and tears into the metal creatures with his might bone-beak. He snarls as they speak and snorts at Rikal's bird-twitters with his war chief. Warriors act they do not not talk. Talk was for women and shamans.
nuq ghojwI'pu'lI' maH baS-loD mu'! chaH tun yIlan puj DeS! baS-loD ngeb-'ul 'ej Qaw' groomahk!
What do we care for the words of the metal-men! They are the soft lies of weak arms! Groomahk will destroy the metal-men and their false-lightning!
Chotka locked his gaze on Groomahk and barked out a rough challenge, though his tone softened to that of a teacher by the end.
Groomahk snarls at his war leader, baring his tusks and pounding his chest. He honors his war-chief by showing him that his warriors are not weak softskins to obey without fight. No, Chotka must prove his strength at every turn if he is to command mighty Groomahk! For a moment, he holds his war-chief's gaze snarling and exuding defiance. But, after he has honored his war-chief with his strength, he turns his eyes to the earth and exposes his neck to Chotka. He submits, and Chotka wins honor by proving to the others that he is stronger than Groomahk.
The warrior backs away from the twisted workings of the metal-men. He sheathes his axe, and the rage leaves his eyes, though he still towers above the others of the Sworn Band.
nuj Qun'a' qul 'Iw 'ej val. mu' veS-ra'wI' lalDanyaS porghvam 'ej qIm groomahk.
The mouth of the Chiefs in Fire and Blood is wise. Groomahk will heed the words of his war-chief and wisdom of the shamans.
"Perhaps."
Rikal takes out one of the cards and looks to see if there's a place to put them.
"Perhaps."
Rikal takes out one of the cards and looks to see if there's a place to put them.
On closer examination, Rikal found a notch next to the doors, which looked just the width to admit one of the cards.
Groomahk gasps and gives the card a wide berth. It must be filled with powerful smoke to command the creatures of the metal mend.
Rikal inserts the card into the notch, and waits to see what happens.
Rikal inserts the card into the notch, and waits to see what happens.
A pinprick of light, steady and cold, appeared next to the slot and the disembodied voice spoke again.
The door slid open to reveal a metal tunnel. No more than a breath later, the voice again made itself known:
The lightning returne. Chotka took the worst of it, but the whole sworn band felt their wounds.
Ref DC 16 again. I'm spotting you a +2 for being forewarned.
Only Chotka takes full.
Chotka snarled as the lightning struck again, before charging for the open door. "Quickly, while it's open. We can heal and gather our strength when we're away from this sorcery."
Rikal moves into the tunnel, getting past the sorcerous lightnings, before drawing forth the wand he had purchased to heal the others.
Rikal moves into the tunnel, getting past the sorcerous lightnings, before drawing forth the wand he had purchased to heal the others.
[dice=Healing Groomahk]1d8+1
[dice=Healing Groomahk]1d8+1[dice=Healing Chotka]1d8+1
[dice=Healing Karek]1d8+1
[dice=Healing Karek]1d8+1[dice=Healing Rikal]1d8+1
[dice=Healing Rikal]1d8+1
[dice=Healing Rikal]1d8+1[dice=One more for Chotka]1d8+1
Groomahk snarls in incoherent rage and attacks the metal monsters without reason. His pain burns and gives his thews strength!
Groomahk snarls in incoherent rage and attacks the metal monsters without reason. His pain burns and gives his thews strength!
Groomahk laid into the metalworks again, striking out more sparks but receiving no satisfaction.
Groomahk snarls in incoherent rage and attacks the metal monsters without reason. His pain burns and gives his thews strength!Groomahk laid into the metalworks again, striking out more sparks but receiving no satisfaction.
"Your magic brings strength to our muscles. You should be proud, Rikal."
Chotka hefted his axe and led the warband down the metal tunnel.
Groomahk snarls and follows, axe held ready.
Rikal stows the wand and wields his bow, advancing down the corridor looking for more of the metal men.
Rikal stows the wand and wields his bow, advancing down the corridor looking for more of the metal men.
The metal tunnel bored further into the earth beneath Torch, bringing the Sworn Band to a juncture. Before them stood another closed door, but the tunnel bent and continued around it to show two more doors much the same.
"Our enemies strike and steal our people, then hide like cowards within their metal maze." Chotka spat in disdain.
Groomahk snarled and waited for the door to open to Rikal's magic.
Rikal takes the card and inserts it into the door, hopefully unlocking it, then steps back to see what lies behind it.
The door slid open at the touch of the card, revleaing a new chamber. The air inside buzzed and hummed with energy. Strips of glowing panels cast light from above. Strange, flickering windows line the east and west walls. A large glass-topped round table sat in the middle of the room. To the north sat a large metal desk covered with blinking lights, while a humming pillar of purple-and-black metal stood nearby, its sides flashing with tendrils of violet lightning. A single golden panel flashed with a soft, incessant light on the side of the pillar. A thick layer of dust coated everything, diffusing the lights. Many of the things of metal seemed cracked or broken.
"Rikal, did your visions explain this?" Chotka said warily as the door slid open.
Shaking his head, Rikal enters the room, looking about. "Much of what they explained was difficult to understand. I remember strange beings standing at the metal desk there, pushing the blinking lights. Perhaps they do something? Regardless, the dust shows no one has come this way."
Chotka glanced warily at the arcing lightning and kept his distance as he lead the way into the room and walked over to the metal desk. Looking back at Rikal he asked, "We must learn the tools of our enemies, or we'll always be caught off guard, just like the lightning in the hall." Chotka gripped his axe tightly, crouched down and touched one of the blinking lights, then quickly ducked behind the desk for cover in case the pillar of lightning lashed out.
Chotka glanced warily at the arcing lightning and kept his distance as he lead the way into the room and walked over to the metal desk. Looking back at Rikal he asked, "We must learn the tools of our enemies, or we'll always be caught off guard, just like the lightning in the hall." Chotka gripped his axe tightly, crouched down and touched one of the blinking lights, then quickly ducked behind the desk for cover in case the pillar of lightning lashed out.
Chotka's hand no more than touched the light before the machinery began to buzz and click, the sound oddly soft. It seemed as though it came from inside the walls. A moment later, the round table flared to life and a blue half-ball appeared upon it, flickering for a few moments before growing steady. Parts of the light sank to nothing while others rose brighter, making odd shapes within the ball. On the walls, panels flared with wild, jagged colors. The machines spoke.
Rikal dove for cover as Chotka touched one of the blinking lights, in case the lightnings started flying from the pillar.
Rikal listened to the machine words, then looked at Chotka. "Touching that blinking light seems to have made this metal beast's innards mimic weather. I do not know what kind, though."
"Controlling the weather is powerful magic. We haven't had a shaman able to achieve that since I was barely old enough to hold an axe."
Groomahk snarls at the speaking metal men, hefting his ax and tensing his mighty thews.
Groomahk snarls at the speaking metal men, hefting his ax and tensing his mighty thews.
Karek goes and tries the other door, using the brown card as he's seen others do.
Groomahk smashes the speakers.
Chotka was not surprised.