[AP] Iron Gods by GM Rutseg

Game Master Balacertar

The town of Torch has long enjoyed a singular claim to prosperity—a violet flame that burns atop Black Hill in the heart of the town. This flame burns incredibly hot, and while it’s usually the size of a bonfire, several times a year the fires spew up into the heavens in a brilliant beam of purple violence.

Torch is one of the only locations where adamantine and other skymetals can be worked with relative ease in Golarion, and its entire economy has risen around these purple flames since its fires ignited spontaneously in 4602 AR. Traveling smiths come from across Avistan to pay for the opportunity to work with them. Of course, Torch needs all the visiting trade and coin it can gather, for the taxes and tariffs the Technic League charges the Numerian town on a monthly basis are exorbitant. The town prospers, but the bulk of its income is quickly extracted and brought to Starfall.

Which is why, when the fires atop the hill suddenly go out, the town is in trouble...

Chapter 1: Fires of Creation by Neil Spicer

It is a torrid summer, yet more than the intense scent to sweat and sulfur that traditionally plague the complaints of Torch citizens, today no one talks about anything else than the missing flames and the failed expeditions to the bowels of Black Hill.

Yesterday, it was expected Khonnir Baine would return from his second foray into Black Hill caves, but there were no news of him or his expedition. Today, many people has decided to approach to his business to see if he has returned during the night.

The open windows of the Foundry tavern let in a pleasing breeze accompanied by the buzzing sound of the cicada. Val Baine, the young Kellid girl daughter of the Town Councilor, walks from table to table cleaning and bringing food to eat to the customers. Her worried expression leaves little doubt, the wizard has not yet returned.

Her foster siblings, a young Kellid boy working in the stove, and a half-elf girl proudly holding a metal stick exchange stares and sentences, while a rat-man is attempting to fix a ceiling fan without much success.

You see a very young human with a few extra pounds around the middle, slouching along.

Yambul dresses in predominately dark clothing, which he hopes hides his general pudginess. He’s plain in his appearance with brown stringy hair and equally brown eyes. His skin, as with many Kellid, is a light brown, but his tan is fading - sure proof that his latest work has been indoors. He’s also large as Kellid's tend to be, and solidly built.

He wears studded leather armor a bit too tight and which is showing its wear, even though Yambul is a young man, in fact scarcely a man at all at barely 18. He has a giant falchion sheathed on his other shoulder, but it looks relatively new. Then there’s the well worn chef’s knife carefully sheathed at his belt. That has seen some use but whether on humans or ham it’s hard to tell. He also carries a heavy pack, bulging with odds and ends.

You may have seen young Yambul in the market (area 11), plying his wares crosslegged on a couple well worn but beautifully woven blankets along the road. He has had a variety of jewelry pieces - mostly silver wire woven with interesting non precious stones. You haven’t seen him in the market for the last few months however.

Now he looks uneasy as he works the grill absentmindedly - his gear piled in the corner. True there are several things on his mind just now, purple… sigh, but he mostly just worries about Khonnir. He looks over to Val, worried for her too, but unsure what to do about it. So he keeps his head down and works the grill for now.

A ratfolk walks into the Foundry wearing a cloak pulled down slightly over his face. He doesn’t bother trying to conceal his ears which jut out of the top of his hood in rakish angles. He notes the somber atmosphere and tries not to be disrespectful. You’ll have known him to frequent the Church of Brigh, and to be an understudy of some sort under Khonnir Baine.

He wanders over to the mechanic and glances at the fan.

KnowEngAid: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20

”Oh, this is a tricky model. But this here goes like that and this whole bit is upside down on this one.” He whistles slightly and unintentionally through his incisors on every “th” and ‘s’ and points to bits and pieces of the contraption.

He strolls over to the bar and politely orders a ginger beer and a straw.

”I am thinking of managing an expedition of my own into Black Hill,” he says to Val in earshot of her foster siblings. ”Maybe just me. Not just to find your father, but to fix the – ” he gesticulates wildly in the direction of Black Hill, "thing… You know. Get the purple going again. I do so want to see the purple skyworks! It not being here is bad for the town. I heard Garmen Ulreth, the owner of the local gambling house, is considering relocating his business in a few months to a different city. It would be good for the town and probably him if he didn’t feel that he must move just to eke out a decent living.”

Rhoreen, strutting with purpose (a pride, perhaps?), enters the Foundry hoping that both the panicked talk about the flame's burnout has toned down in its hysteria (it was making her nervous) and that she might get a quiet meal while she decides what to do...and also with hopes that Khonnir had returned.

Entering, she nods at Yambul, recognizing him from her own encounters with Khonnir, but then also frowns because she wonders who is making food if he is eating?

And turning to the bar, she begins to make a sound like she is trying to produce a honking glob of brackish phlegm from the deepest part of her throat...but doesn't consider it too rude as she's just trying to say Zzvkgrogk's name in greeting. She recognizes the ratfolk from both here at Foundry and again from the common Church of Brigh.

"Any word? Anything?" Rhoreen moves to speak to the bartender and ratfolky friend. About 21, the half-elf was friendly, and nice to a point. She carries no menacing cook weapons (like a giant falchion when getting a local lunch), just a small crafting dagger, and wears no armor. She does have a handy hip flask, but it's filled with oil for her work. A metallic holy symbol hangs near the skymetal wand around her neck. She is dressed in craftsmans clothes. Her golden hair is tied back in a sensible ribbon of cloth, and her brown eyes are stubborn, prideful things.

"I wish we would hear something. Anything. Good or bad. Not knowing about Khonnir is troubling to say the least," Rhoreen vents, having a hard time thinking straight with the worry, not just for Khonnir, but for her future. She had hoped to craft here with her life, for the rest of her life, and even had hopes to open her own forge eventually (the Prideforge), but with no flame, she could understand why Garmen might want to move away.

She orders a beer and some food, taking a stool to mope and hope for better news.

Rūha sits at a table almost in the center of the Foundry's common room, with no one else sharing her table. You see that she's a tall, lanky humanoid with four arms and a clearly elongated cranium. Currently her top two arms have their elbows resting on the table, with one arm lowered and one hand lightly resting on her cheek. Her second set of arms is quietly folded in her lap - unobtrusive, but obvious. Her leathery skin has a mottled lilac hue. A set of unusually fine goggles sit on her forehead and a close-fitting black face mask covers her mouth and nose. Both are made of unusually flexible, resilient materials that look like something of a cross between metal and fabric. She wears a long black jacket over a plaid dress shirt and tie, as well as a more ordinary set of loose trousers. Each item of clothing has been specially tailored to her anatomy.

She does not appear to be any creature widely known in Golarion. To top it off, to anyone who has been in Torch for a while, she's definitely new in town.

She sighs as she looks around the room, letting her hand drop to fiddle with the small thin wooden placard pinned to her lapel. The placard reads Hello, My Name Is Rūha. I don't bite. The second statement has clearly been added after the fact.

She ponders her poor luck at missing the fabled "Torch" the town is named after, and looks around for any familiar faces. The news that someone had to go on an expedition somewhere to try to 'fix' the torch fills her with curiosity, but she decides to listen for now rather than alarm people by talking to them first.

I'll walk right in, and he'll be sitting right...

Roughly two meters in height, a female elf enters the Foundry, and immediately begins assessing faces through goggled eyes. She takes them off briefly to clean them on a handkerchief tied to her belt, then puts them back on, and continues to enumerate the patrons in her mind.

...there...

When she arrives at the last face, her shoulders slump, and her chest sighs, as she obviously fails to find the proper face. She decides that for now, her place is not in the doorway of the tavern entrance, but rather at a table by a window, where she can set down her backpack, and her longbow, and probably her rapier too. The leather armor isn't coming off any time soon, as there is still plenty of day left, should she decide to scamper off to another part of Torch before the sun goes down.

Where are you, Revion..?

This is not at all what she pictured, arriving in Torch. She expected the spectacle, the great roaring purple flame, to tease her from afar, to beckon her ever closer to town, where the townsfolk became more than just busy ants at the edge of her vision upon arrival.

One thing at a time, Chaance. You know only what you've gleaned from that decent fellow and his horses, which isn't much, but really, who wants to chew the cud among the horse dung, when you can have a charming tavern, full of colorful characters, brimming with actionable intelligence?

She does a double take, regarding the humanoid with more arms than are necessary. How did I miss... Rūha, is it? Poor thing, people thinking you must bite.

The new guest of the Foundry reties her ponytail, then orders the day's dish, and something non-dehydrating.

"I am thinking of managing an expedition of my own into Black Hill. Maybe just me. Not just to find your father, but to fix the – thing… You know. Get the purple going again. I do so want to see the purple skyworks! It not being here is bad for the town. I heard Garmen Ulreth, the owner of the local gambling house, is considering relocating his business in a few months to a different city. It would be good for the town and probably him if he didn’t feel that he must move just to eke out a decent living.”

Now that's more like it!

Chaance smiles, as she regards the ratfolk's pronouncements. She wonders if he'll go on, but he's already given her a new name, and a shared interest in Black Hill. He's promising.

"I wish we would hear something. Anything. Good or bad. Not knowing about Khonnir is troubling to say the least."

Chaance frowns, as she regards the half-elf's declarations. She hopes that she'll go on, as not knowing about Khonnir means not knowing about Revion, and she shares the women's trouble with not knowing things, in general, or specifically for that matter.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear. You're talking about Khonnir Baine?" In the very moment of speaking his name, Chaance puts two and two together, and realizes the ratfolk spoke of a missing father, and now the half-elf speaks with concern about Khonnir, so the father of Val, right there, is both Khonnir and missing.

"Can I help?"

Adjusting a couple pieces the rat-man finally makes the ceiling fan resume working. By when he takes sit, Val Baine has already placed ginger beer with a straw at his place "Thanks Zzvkgrogk, you are a charm"

The Kellid patroness negates with her head towards Rhoreen "No, Khonnir has not made it back through the night."

When Rūha makes it into the tavern, there is a general silence as people lay eyes on her, but when she takes sit, Val comes to her place and puts by her the soda water with herbs the establishment uses to receive guests. The bubbles pushing up the orange dyeing herbs remind the molten burbling material of a foundry.

Then, the elf enters the tavern and the conversations in the tavern resume.

Val leaves more foundry beverage at Chaance's table and takes note of her order for lunch that she repeats back to the kitchen with loud voice "Grilled poultry and carrots, Yambul!"

”I am thinking of managing an expedition of my own into Black Hill,” he says to Val in earshot of her foster siblings. ”Maybe just me. Not just to find your father, but to fix the – ” he gesticulates wildly in the direction of Black Hill, "thing… You know. Get the purple going again. I do so want to see the purple skyworks!”

"The purple thing... ah... you youngsters know nothing..." the oldest farmer in town, Old Man Cogsburn, negates and grumbles with his venerable cracked voice "The first time I seen that purple fire shoot up into the sky, it liked to scare all my damn goats. They started bleating something fierce and then they up and bolted straight through the pen, knocking down half the posts. It took me two days to get ’em all together again and back in the pen, and after that the nanny goats wouldn’t give milk for a week. And the goats weren’t the only ones frightened to hell! I shot up out of bed and darted to the window as the ground rumbled—I got tangled up in my blankets and damn near fell flat on my face! The sky was cloudy that night, and that purple flame lit up the whole thing in an eerie glow. I thought them demons from up north had attacked us for sure... Just let the damned flame stay down."

The younger farmer by him laughs and pads the hands of the old one "Y'ou know, the flame has been there continuously for more than a century. Do you want us to trust you were there to see it, Cogsburn? Each time you explain it, the goats put down more posts and the milk took more time to resume"

The old man seems to take offense and grumbles, taking a sip of his soda "We Kellids belong to the plains. All that technic-thing is only going to have us all killed one day or another."

Val smiles to the old man, then back to the rat man "You are too charming Zzvkgrogk, but it is too dangerous. You know what happened to the halfling adventurers, and to Parda Garr's thugs, and to the worshipers of Brigh... only Khonnir's group made it back and you saw what he brought, that disabled metal semi-humanoid. You heard his stories about the enormous vermin and other scavengers... what if those tunnels really connect to deep down and the creatures of the Darklands finally bested him..." the girl bites her lip.

A young redhead woman, known as Emelia Otterbie by the locals of Torch, enters the tavern and looks towards Val. The Kellid negates, and the young woman takes sit visibly affected while the tears crowd her eyes.

"Can I help?"

"You are not from here, isn't it? Are you a sort of adventurer perhaps?" Val questions back the elf "Well, if someone could have a look at those caves and help father, I would be kindfully indebted to that person... or group... But the idea is just too dangerous, too many have perished, and Khonnir himself is an experienced wizard that made up a well rounded group before trying to make it down... I cannot imagine what kind of hazard he faced that he could not make it back already..."

Chaance's face slips into something placid, before she remembers to smile at Val, maybe as some form of reassurance. No lamb to the slaughter here, my dear. "Adventurer? I suppose you could call me one, yes. More of a visitor, Maybe? If I understand it correctly, I'm sorry to hear your father has gone missing. I might be inclined to lend a hand, if I knew what happened in the previous attempts. Halflings, thugs, worshippers, you say? Yes, I'd like to know more, if you have the patience." Chaance's face has slipped into small consternation, and she renews her smile at the conclusion of her response to the daughter of Khonnir Baine.

The meat sizzles on the grill as the ratfolk speaks.

”I am thinking of managing an expedition of my own into Black Hill,” he says to Val in earshot of her foster siblings. ”Maybe just me. Not just to find your father, but to fix the – ” he gesticulates wildly in the direction of Black Hill, "thing… You know. Get the purple going again. I do so want to see the purple skyworks! It not being here is bad for the town. I heard Garmen Ulreth, the owner of the local gambling house, is considering relocating his business in a few months to a different city. It would be good for the town and probably him if he didn’t feel that he must move just to eke out a decent living.”

He flips the potatoes, a little too early if he’s to be honest with himself, but his attention is elsewhere.

He hurriedly finishes cooking the meal, and shunts the plate to Val. He then walks out of the kitchen a bit, just to within earshot, ”You can do that?” he asks the diminutive manager, ”You can just go on an expedition? Aren’t there, like I dunno, permits or something to get?” He wipes his hands on a towel and considers his options.

"Any word? Anything?"

”No word of any kind.” he looks around nervously, licking his lips, ”And it’s been too long.”

He sees the look on Val’s face and quickly adds, ”Maybe. Look, I don’t know. I’m just a cook.” He shrugs uneasily and goes back into the kitchen to make a few more meals.

Plating them quickly, he returns from the kitchen with the meals instead of handing them to Val. He arrives just in time to hear…

”You are not from here, isn't it? Are you a sort of adventurer perhaps?” Val questions back the elf ”Well, if someone could have a look at those caves and help father, I would be kindfully indebted to that person... or group... But the idea is just too dangerous, too many have perished, and Khonnir himself is an experienced wizard that made up a well rounded group before trying to make it down... I cannot imagine what kind of hazard he faced that he could not make it back already…”

Yambul looks quite scared as he says, ”I’m not scared. I’ll go with you. I’m not too bad with a falchion, but I’m not so good at figuring stuff out if we run into any technological stuff. Lord Baine hasn’t taught me that yet.”

He wipes his hands off on his rag and throws it over his shoulder, staring at Zzvkgrogk.

Rhoreen rises to go give Emelia a hug, sharing a pain of worry and loss. ”I’m sure they are just being thorough in their search, Emelia. They’ll be back soon enough,” Rhoreen offers comfort. ”Gerrol will be back soon.” She stands a few moments in shared pain with the woman who is a peer.

* * *

”Can I help?”

”Are you an adventurer?”
”…creatures of the Darklands…”
”Adventurer? I suppose you could call me one…”
”Aren’t there permits to get?”

Rhoreen closes her eyes and takes in all the talk, waiting for something to happen. Some piece of hope or direction that she can’t really grasp at the moment.

Her eyes go from Yambul to Chaance and then back to Zzvkgrogk.

Rhoreen makes a sound from her throat that is approximately what is sounds like when a cat is offering a tangled hairball to the carpet at 3am, but not to be rude, but as she tries to say Zzvkgrogk‘s name: ”<*sound*>, are you really thinking of going down? Another expedition?”

Zzvkgrogk climbs down from re-installing the fixed fan on the ceiling and takes his place at the bar, ecstatic to find a straw and a ginger beer already waiting for him.

”Thanks Zzvkgrogk, you are a charm"

Val’s voice reaches something in the young Ratfolk, though all he can think is out of my league and for something… something else I don’t have a word for. His ears blush a little. ”As you wish,” he simply replies reaching for the straw, ”and thank you.”

”I love this place,” he says to Rhoreen. ”They are always ready with just the right thing at just the right time.”

"Any word? Anything?"

Zzvkgrogk shakes his head sadly in part because of what he has not heard, and in part because of what he has heard. Why, does it seem so hard for non-ratfolk to say my name? ”I have not heard anything.”

’Hey – “ he says, changing the subject. ”’Prideforge’? By any chance – do you know of Clockmother of Brigh, Scrapwall? You are…” the spitting image? No, too young even for a half elf… ”by your looks, you could be her daughter.”

When Rūha makes it into the tavern, there is a general silence as people lay eyes on her, but when she takes sit, Val comes to her place and puts by her the soda water with herbs the establishment uses to receive guests. The bubbles pushing up the orange dyeing herbs remind the molten burbling material of a foundry.

Zzvkgrogk pulls his ginger beer closer to his person. Four arms? Hmmm… maybe she is from the stars also? WHOA! His beady black eyes sparkle a little bit as he tries not to stare at the placard bearing being. Those are the best goggles I have ever l ever laid eyes upon! Eventually he gets around to (surreptitiously enough for his own belief) noticing the placard.

Bite? Is someone making her wear that?

”See what I mean?” he says to Rhoreen as Val serves her. ”They are what humans would say ‘Brot on the spot’ with the service!”

He grunts when Yambul mentions "permits", because he knows spitting would be considered rude here.

He excuses himself and makes his way to Rūha. He pulls out a chair and tries to turn it around to sit on it defensively, as he had seen Redtooth do once in awhile – but his cloak gets in the way and he merely manages to fumble it back into place.

He clears his throat. ”My name is Zzvkgrogk,” he states emitting a noise sounding much like airy hiss followed by what can only be described as a reverse croak. ”Is there, a … “ not ‘Thing’, what are they? Oh – that’s it! ”a folkmoot in town?” he asks, pointing to her placard. ”By the way, those are the most staracular goggles I have ever seen!” he exclaims, genuinely admiring them.

”You're talking about Khonnir Baine? Can I help?”

Zzvkgrogk III sizes up Chaance and her weapons. ’Do you know how to use that?’ is probably not the first thing you want to ask someone carrying a rapier. There’s a bow too, anyway.

”Sure,” he says uncertainly, "But why?"

Val smiles to the old man, then back to the rat man "You are too charming Zzvkgrogk, but it is too dangerous. You know what happened to the halfling adventurers, and to Parda Garr's thugs, and to the worshipers of Brigh…”

Of this tone of Val's he was less fond. ”Amateurs,” he interjects.

”...only Khonnir's group made it back and you saw what he brought, that disabled metal semi-humanoid. You heard his stories about the enormous vermin and other scavengers...“

He tries not to look hurt when she refers to ‘enormous vermin’. ” – I think I can fix that semi-humanoid too, it probably needs more metal humanoid parts. It’s probably useful,” he insists, calmly.

”what if those tunnels really connect to deep down and the creatures of the Darklands finally bested him? … But the idea is just too dangerous, too many have perished, and Khonnir himself is an experienced wizard that made up a well rounded group before trying to make it down... I cannot imagine what kind of hazard he faced that he could not make it back already..."

He feels the weight of the Device in his pocket, and sadly imagines.

He wipes his hands off on his rag and throws it over his shoulder, staring at Zzvkgrogk.

He’s so young, with such a big weapon. Not gonna ask him either just in case… but that’s the thing about people sometimes… they underestimate. Can’t say no to him.

””<*sound*>, are you really thinking of going down? Another expedition?”

He nods to Yambul. ”As I see it, the longer we stay up here talking about it, the less chance we have of finding Khonnir.”

"Adventurer? I suppose you could call me one, yes. ... I might be inclined to lend a hand, if I knew what happened in the previous attempts. Halflings, thugs, worshippers, you say? Yes, I'd like to know more, if you have the patience."

Val smiles at Chaance, seeing a chance to find help for her father, she explains the recent events to Chaance, including the details about the expeditions, which everyone in the tavern can hear anew.

”You can just go on an expedition? Aren’t there, like I dunno, permits or something to get?”

The man by the window, a brunette Kellid of pleasant expression and fine clothes raises an eyebrow and answers Yambul with calm voice while taking a bite from the dish the cook just put on his table "Why you do not ask at the Town Council about it? While no one stops you to go down the caves, things found there belong to the tribe, in this case the Council. I have seen this problem before."

Rhoreen rises to go give Emelia a hug, sharing a pain of worry and loss. ”I’m sure they are just being thorough in their search, Emelia. They’ll be back soon enough,” Rhoreen offers comfort. ”Gerrol will be back soon.” She stands a few moments in shared pain with the woman who is a peer.

Emelia Otterbie is soothed by Rhoreen's gesture, she sobs, then cleans her tears, and smiles back at the half-elf, reassured "Thanks. The Council will send someone else. I am sure. Father will be generous with anyone bringing back Gerrol. I am sure."

He tries not to look hurt when she refers to ‘enormous vermin’. ” – I think I can fix that semi-humanoid too, it probably needs more parts. It’s probably useful,” he insists, calmly.

"Can you Zz?" Val's gloomy expression is suddenly replaced by hope "Of course, why did I not thought of it before? It can be useful! Khonnir left it home. Let me bring it! Perhaps there is some clue on it!" the young Kellid girl goes into the kitchen, tapping Yambul in the back happily, and excitedly exits the tavern through the backdoor.

Yambul makes an attempt at the rat folks name, and fails, his tongue crossing in the z’s. ”<*sound*>’s Expedition. I like the sound of that. Count me in.”

"Why you do not ask at the Town Council about it? While no one stops you to go down the caves, things found there belong to the tribe, in this case the Council. I have seen this problem before.”

”You mean we can’t keep what we find?” he shrugs.

He looks uncomfortably at Val’s back as she leaves, ”Er… assuming I can have the time off from the kitchen?” he asks the empty air as if reminding himself to ask when she returns.

He takes a quick tour of the tables to collect dishes and returns to the kitchen to work.

"By any chance – do you know of Clockmother of Brigh, Scrapwall? You are…by your looks, you could be her daughter.”

Rhoreen narrows her eyes to think if she would know this Brighan Clockmother, but she does not.

[b]"No, I have not heard that. It could be a coincidence, but then again, there are some who say all dwarves look alike, though that cannot be true," Rhoreen answers, uncertain.

I had no idea. Lol.

* * *

”As I see it, the longer we stay up here talking about it, the less chance we have of finding Khonnir.”

Rhoreen pauses for a moment. She looks at the ground, then at Emelia, still trying to find a way to help.

[b]"I'll go. Can I go? I'd like to go. I'll go to find Gerrol. I'll go to find Khonnir. It can't be worse than waiting for him to return. It's been too long," Rhoreen looks to Zzvkgrogk and then to Yambul. "And it's better than sitting here waiting."

Rhoreen sits and sips her beer again, thinking what needs to be done...and hoping to stick around to see the android. She had heard of the discovery, but had not yet had a chance to see it herself, much less interact with it.

"Do you need help, Val?" Rhoreen asks after Val had already left the building. Shrugging at her tardiness, she begins to nervously help bus the tables and stack the dishes for Yambul. S

Rūha nods her thanks to Val for the drink. She spends a moment looking around for a straw, but upon not locating one, she lets the drink sit for now. In the mean time, she returns her up-right hand to her cheek, fingers tapping away as she listens to the fascinating discussion happening nearby. It was easy to see that the whole community was in upheaval over this missing Khonnir, and not just him from the sound of things. A whole expedition missing... no, multiple expeditions? Quite dangerous. And that mention of the Darklands? Some kind of abyssal realm, perhaps?

But its the mention of a "metal semi-humanoid" that draws Rūha's most rapt attention. These last few weeks, she's heard talk of some of the things found here in Numeria. Among them, objects and beings that are quite out of place. This could be one of them. Of course, it could just be a common golem of the magical variety, which would be interesting in its own way.

She smiles when Zzvkgrogk comes up to her table and takes a seat, visible by the creasing at the edges of her eyes. "A pleasure to meet you, Zzvkgrogk." Her speech holds an accent that's hard to place - two parts River Kingdoms to three parts Ustalav, maybe. She extends her up-left hand across the table to shake. Her pronunciation of Zzvkgrogk's name is almost spot on, despite having heard it only three times, and only once from the ysoki himself. "If there is a folkmoot, it would be the first time I'm hearing of it. Is that a local tradition?" She raises an eyebrow "As for the goggles, they are nothing too special, I assure you." She takes them off her forehead and passes them to the ysoki to take a closer look.

When he comments back to Val that he might be able to fix the metal semi-humanoid, she comments "If you're going to take a look at this... construct... I'd like to join you. I have a passing familiarity that may prove useful."

She listens to Val's recounting on the various expeditions with a growing furrow to her brow. She quietly comments "That is quite an excess of missing persons." and then glances at the half-elf practically leaping out of her seat to go in and join the list of missing persons.

There is a sudden commotion coming from outside, from the north, followed by loud yells with Val's voice "Out of here! AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

The noise comes from Baine's home.
North building in the Foundry map

”That sounds like…Val?” Rhoreen says, moving to hear it more clearly. ”I think that’s Val.”

Rhoreen exits, still listening.

”Val?” She moves closer.

Hearing Val scream, Yambul grabs the chef's knife, setting down the dish he was washing, and rushes toward the home.

Not sure if we're in rounds, so I just did a bit, but Yambul is rushing to help.

As Rhoreen and Yambul get out of the tavern, they see Baine's home door is open. There is another loud knock and Val yells again "That is Khonnir’s stuff do not touch it!" before shouting in pain.

Anyone that approaches to investigate the scene, finds Val is at the storeroom and a pink haired woman with a self-sufficient look is holding the Kellid girl from the hair "Illegal possession of a drone device. Stay away girl if you do not want to have more trouble. This belongs to the Technic League”

By the woman, a young man dressed in typical League atire holds a strange device made of metal with two arms and four legs, as large as any of you. It seems damaged. The man looks at the scene emotionless.

When they notice your presence Val shouts at you "They entered home after me and want to take the device Khonnir found in the caves!"

The woman looks at you "Stay away, this is none of your business"

All the doors are open, except for the eastern outside door.

Rhoreen walks closer to get a better look, and she does not like what she sees…

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10 Know (Arcana)

…mostly because she does not understand what it is, but knows that Val wants it and this looks a lot like outright theft.

”Stay away.”

Though she is armed only with a dagger, and without armor, she stands her ground and does not stay away. She puts her hands on her hips, jutting out her chin in defiance.

”No, this decidedly is my business. If you have claim to that, then you should have gone through the sheriff or town council, this looks a lot like outright theft,” Rhoreen replies. ”You can put everything down and leave, offering apologies if you’d like, and then come back tomorrow with writ.”

Pinky laughs, then turns towards the young man "Did you hear that Arturo? The girl has more balls than most of your friends. Shall we take her with us?" then turning back her attention to Rhoreen, she adds "Dear, it is my guess you are new to Numeria. You just not meddle with the Technic League. You just pay and obey"

The man draws a shortsword with one hand and speaks. His voice has a high nasal tone "Move out of that door brat. Bella is not very patient. You took her in a good day"

"Oh, is it a good day?" the woman smiles "Oh, yes, I love summer days indeed darling"

Yambul rushes up, chef’s knife in his hand, still with a bit of onion stuck to it. He doesn’t like the looks of this, but it’s not his thing they’re taking.

But he’s loyal. So he looks to Val to see what she wants.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11 to determine what Val wants

He does however move right up to them. In their faces.

”Out of here! AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

”Oh Brigh!” he exclaims, bolting (for him) toward Baine’s abode. ”C’mon!” He moves as fast as his little legs will carry him.

…

When he finally arrives he snarls at the Technic League ”Let her go!” before succumbing to the metal lure.

KnowEng: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18 His eyes narrow then gleam. Yes, I can fix that.

He refocuses on the Technic League. Snarling, he lowers his lantern staff and lights the end.

When a Kellid the size of a wardrobe appears with a knife in his hand, the smile disappears from the pinky woman's face "Be careful laddie, you do not want to get hurt yourself with that"

His approach and a ratfolk appearing with a staff behind, is enough for them to know the mechanical device will not come out of the house without violence. As things develop Bella raises Val using her as cover, while Arturo leaves the metal construct on place, looking for something in his belt with his empty hand.

Chaance and Rūha have a chance to catch up with the others before the League fully reacts to the disruption on their plans.

Round 1: Chaance, Rūha, Arturo & Bella, Zzvkgrogk, Rhoreen, Yambul, Val

Everyone can act!
Chaance and Rūha, feel free to set your tokens closer before taking round 1.

Enjoying the Intro

Yambul looks quite scared as he says, ”I’m not scared. I’ll go with you..."

He's a dedicated one. Very gallant cooks they have in Torch.

"As I see it, the longer we stay up here talking about it, the less chance we have of finding Khonnir.”

Chaance thanks Val for informing her of the recent expeditions, heartening that one of them managed to return, at least.

"That is quite an excess of missing persons."

Chaance looks to the many-armed person, thinking the same thing. "Agreed."

"Sure, but why?"

Chaance considers the ultimate question. Why, indeed? "He's my name in Numeria." Before she can elaborate, the screaming and the hustling and bustling ensues.

...

Snapping to Attention

Round 1

Chaance decides that standing in yet another doorway will prove ineffectual, in what sounds like a baby belligerence growing up too quickly. She exits the Foundry, but decides it would be better if she didn't enter what must be Val's residence, given her voice coming from within.

Instead, the elf moves to a position which allows her to see the half-elf through the doorway, as well as catch glimpses of the inside. She doesn't stand idle, of course. Her hands fidget much less with her bow gripped, and an arrow nocked. Best not to stick my nose in, prematurely. Maybe a town squabble? Certainly no monsters. That man's too handsome to be a real threat... Chaance keeps an eye on the unfamiliar face, expecting to see it exiting the house soon.

Chaance calls to Rhoreen. "Is everything alright in there?"

Moved on Map! Lovely first Initiative Roll :)

Rūha leans back in her chair, but she can't see the source of the altercation outside. When Zzvkgrogk excuses himself to go investigate, she gets up as well, donning her goggles and settling them over her eyes. Once standing, she towers over the rest of the clientele - she's at least seven feet tall, if not even higher. Her long strides take her out of the door after the ysoki and in to the Baine dwelling - or so she assumes since everyone else is inside.

Oh, some local thugs.

She reaches for her bottom-right wrist, almost pressing her finger against it before stopping with a wry smile. Rhoreen, next to her, hears her murmur "Fat lot of good that'd do even if I still had it.". Instead she raises her voice to address the hooligans harassing the little girl who runs the tavern. "I heard the Technic League was comprised of skilled intellectuals, experts in the mysterious local artifacts. If you're truly what you claim, then there should be no need to harass children. Much less hurt them." She narrows her eyes.

Round 1 action just to talk. Rūha doesn't expect this to come to blows.

The League raises eyebrows at the appearance of the four-armed Rūha inside the building, and pinky answers "Such a romantic and idealized point of view. Perhaps you should come with us, those multiple arms are sure worth a few hundred silverdisks for the proper master. A sure get in with the intellectuals."

Bella produces a thin slice of butter from her belt pouch "You better drop that knife before you hurt someone" and after saying a few words of arcane magic, Yambul's knife is coated with grease.
Ref DC 13 to avoid losing the knife

She then draws a steel shortsword, but the casting forced her to release the grasp on Val who is now just softly hold by a thin lock of hair.

Meanwhile, Arturo picks from his bag a silverdisk that shines with rivulets, and quietly introduces it into the metal device. There is a myriad of tiny blue arcs sparkling all through the metal case.
Yambul gets an AoO if he still has his knife and has Combat Reflexes or something similar to act while flat-footed.

The thing rises up straight with a jerky, staggering gait "*beep* *burp* ବ୍ୟାଟେରୀ ସର୍ବନିମ୍ନ କାର୍ଯ୍ୟ ସ୍ତରରେ ଲୋଡ୍ ହୋଇଛି *piiiip* ଭିଟାଲ୍ ସକ୍ରିୟ *beep* *piii* ମରାମତି *burp* *beep* ମରାମତି *piiiii*" it bashes the wall making a small hole with its metallic arm "*beep* ମରାମତି *piiiii*"

Val screams while wrestling to get away from Pinky "Oh stop that thing! It is going to destroy the house!"

Arturo is also holding a shortsword in his other hand.

Yambul: grease on knife (Ref DC 13)
Round 1: Zzvkgrogk, Rhoreen, Yambul, Val Round 2: Chaance, Rūha, Arturo & Bella

Everyone can act!

Rhoreen catches Rūha walking closer to her and her attention immediately sifts to the new threat(?). She now notes how tall the woman(?) is, spanning over seven feet, and involuntarily takes a step back as she approaches. With a face covered in mask, it is difficult for Rhoreen to read the intents on Rūha's face, but moreso, the additional arms trigger a memory...a memory of loss and sorrow.

Rhoreen shakes her head, trying to push the memory down because she has other things to think about.

"Fat lot of good that'd do even if I still had it."

Rhoreen's eyes flicker down to Rūha's wrist, then back to Rūha's covered face, her own breath strained and uncertain.

"I heard the Technic League was comprised of skilled intellectuals, experts in the mysterious local artifacts. If you're truly what you claim, then there should be no need to harass children. Much less hurt them."

Rhoreen's visions are snapped away by Rūha's words and she focuses on the brewing fight.

Round 1, Init 5

Rhoreen stares angrily at the violence at the Technic League has brought into Torch, especially now, when the town is so wounded, and missing so many loved ones.

Angrily threatened, she focuses on her prized, handcrafted skymetal wand bound around her neck, bonding to it her will and casting an ill jinx upon the Technic swordsman threatening Torch's Kellid walking wardrobe/cook who is missing his giant falchion.

Skymetal Omen: The subject of this omen is jinxed with the unquantifiable nature of skymetal. When the target makes an attack or saving throw during the next round, it must roll twice and take the worse result. A DC 14 Will save negates this effect. 1/50.

Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8 vs DC 13 or lose the knife

Yambul drops the knife and looks at it in the dirt a long moment. He looks back up at the man standing next to him, and the woman with the short sword a little ways away. No time to lose, and no time to go back, he struggles on.

He tries to take the item from the man’s hand. He doesn’t have improved disarm or steal, so there’s an AoO coming his way if the man has a weapon.

CMB: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

Sadly, his faith in Desna reveals that he is not destined to be the hero of this fight. He stands there empty handed with an empty look on his face, wondering what to do.

A 7, a 4, and a 6 to start the campaign. Sigh.

Will DC 14: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
The stare of the half-elf is well enough to jinx the League's cutie face.
Shortsword: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 101d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
His attempt to hurt Yambul when he attempts to obtain another weapon results in a total failure under the cursing stare of the blonde.

Arturo: jinxed r3
Round 1: Zzvkgrogk, Rhoreen, Yambul, Val Round 2: Chaance, Rūha, Arturo & Bella

"Oh, so you're rippers on top of everything else." Rūha's voice drips with disgust, the "Ustalavic" side of her accent becoming more prominent. She calls out to Zzvkgrogk and Yambul "If you're trying to disarm him, try from his left - he's limping. As for the woman, I shouldn't need to tell you that her low-cropped top leaves her unarmored where she most needs it."

Standard action to use Advice. This functions like inspire courage, so +1 competence to attack and damage and +1 morale vs charm and fear.

Zzvkgrogk drops his pack and strikes at Arturo with his pointy ended staff.

”I said let her go!” he tries not to squeak.

POKE: 1d20 - 1 + 1 ⇒ (17) - 1 + 1 = 17
For Damage: 1d6 - 1 + 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 + 1 = 2

Butterfingers still has a move action left...

So he'll try to pick up the knife again, hoping against combat reflexes...

Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24 vs DC 13 to collect his weapon

"Praise Desna!" he cries as he holds the slippery blade.

Rūha demonstrates a great clarity of mind as in the midst of the tense moment she identifies where to better hit.

Zzvkgrogk moves closer, using his long stick to just stab the man exactly where Rūha told him. Arturo bleeds and looks at Zzvkgrogk bothered.

With a quick look after his evasive knife, Yambul finally emerges victorious with the cooking device up in his hands and unscathed from tricky opportunistic attacks.

Val, seeing the grasp on her softens, attempts to bite Pinky in her hand, but she removes it from place and she ends with the head in Bella's belly. The woman gets the opportunity to attack, but she gets entangled with a shelve full of tools that fall all over.
Unarmed attack: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 21d3 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
AoO shortsword: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

The Kellid profits the chance to escape into the living room "Wicked League! When are they going to forget about us..."

Chaance does something heroic!

"Well, it seems you will need a lesson" the woman's sword suddenly shines with magic, then she says a word of daze pointing at Zzvkgrogk, then follows up with her other hand against Yambul who deflects the blade using his buttered knife "What's going on with that robot Arturo, get it out of here!"
Will DC 12 or be dazed 1 round, Zzvkgrogk
shortsword+arcane-spell combat: 1d20 + 3 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 3 + 1 - 2 = 5
Piercing damage+arcane: 1d6 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 3 + 1 = 8

Arturo snorts at Bella and grimaces at the pain. His shortsword shines with magic too, and saying a word of arcane power, his other hand crackles with electricity he uses to discharge with a touch on Yambul, but both this attack and the follow up with his blade are jinxed, and the luck, or better bad luck, preserves the cooker's pristine body.
Concentration DC 17: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 201d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Shocking grasp-spell combat+metal (touch): 1d20 + 3 - 2 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 - 2 + 3 = 51d20 + 3 - 2 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 - 2 + 3 = 18
Electrical damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4

shortsword+arcane-spell combat: 1d20 + 3 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (18) + 3 + 1 - 2 = 201d20 + 3 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (8) + 3 + 1 - 2 = 10
Piercing damage+arcane: 1d6 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 3 + 1 = 10

The robot behind rotates over itself and picks up one box from the floor, drilling a hole through. Wooden mugs with Torch's torch and the sentence Ya' torch! engraved start to fall all over hitting the floor "*beep* ମରାମତି *piiiii*"

Arturo: 2 damage, considerably wounded, jinxed r3, holding electrical charge
Round 2: Zzvkgrogk, Rhoreen, Yambul, Val Round 3: Chaance (x2), Rūha, Arturo & Bella

Everyone can act!
Chaance can go with his previous round action along with this one.

Round 2

"OH! Oh!!" Chaance moves to the window, her eyes now looking through two sets of panes, her personals, and Val's residence's. "That's what it sounds like!" The elf sees nothing but the metal construction in the room, all other things mere flickers in her peripheral vision.

Knowledge(Engineering), Metal Device: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

"This is spectacular! That's a TickTock! Well, that's not its formal name. More like a construct of the clockwork nomenclature, but it's much more endearing to think of it like a timepiece come to life! Listen to it! It's actually speaking out loud to itself, and likely to those who need to understand what it's about. It's not up to snuff yet, but I think this kind of TickTock can heal itself. In fact, it's declared as much with its words! '*beep* *burp*', well that doesn't really deepen the conversation, all noise, but it's also saying 'battery loaded to minimum working levels - activating vitals - repair repair'."

It takes Chaance another moment or two to understand that the others are actually fighting. "Hey, stop that! He's just a cook!"

Round 3

"Excuse me." Chaance shoulders her and her bow's way into Val's house, past Rhoreen, and raises her arrow towards Arturo.

"You're two against one, that's not fair." She lets fly a single arrow, hoping to discourage the swordsman from further aggression. Unlikely. He's decided to use magic, so he's more of a threat than I gave him credit for...

Longbow, Point Blank: 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 4 + 1 = 21 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 damage, PB

Do Ratfolk stand tall enough to provide the handsome Arturo Cover? Tune in next time, when the illustrious GM penalizes the noble elf's roll for such cramped quarters...

Chaance hopes in the last split second of flight that she doesn't see the back of Yambul's head suddenly show itself in the doorway.

Well, I've stuck my nose in it, for better or worse. Surely they'll come to see reason. They're well-outnumbered, unless there are more of them in town.

Round 2, Init 6

Zzvkgrogk is 'almost exactly 121.92 centimeters' tall.

Arturo bleeds and looks at Zzvkgrogk bothered.

Zzvkgrogk snarls back.

”Go Yambul! The boy has his ham knife back!
Even better, Val is free!

”Give up –” ZZZZAAP! Zzvkgrogk begins to speak, then is struck by a spell!

WillDC12: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (1) + 0 = 1

Woah, dizzy… Ohhh.. wow… look at that metal semi-humanoid-android go! Zzvkgrogk watches the robot punch holes in the walls, muttering to itself. He he smiles and basks in its chaotic frenzy, or tries to – then frowns, or tries to – But like me – it is stuck! … Beautiful metal thing…

”This is spectacular! That's a TickTock! Well, [ … ] it's also saying 'battery loaded to minimum working levels - activating vitals - repair repair'."

Let’s hope those batteries don’t give out before we can repair it! His eyes glitter in the chaotic display.

Round 2, Init 5

Rhoreen smugs as she watches Arturo fumble, fumble, and fumble again, the mercurial skymetal shifting the weaves of action around the man.
Feeling more confident, she switches tactics to try to interfere with the spellblade again, hoping to prevent yet more harm to the brave cook fighting with only his back up butter knife while his giant falchion lies back in the kitchen guarding the scallions.

She casts a very simple spell at Arturo. Daze, DC14 Will or be dazed.

Yambul ducks, dodges, and weaves and manages to keep his skin all in one place - though he’s sure that he’s bitten off more than he can chew.

As I read grease, I must make the Reflex save every time I try to use the item.
Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14 vs DC 13 or lose the knife… again

Yambul thankfully stabs the man before him with his buttery blade.
Dagger: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 5 + 1 = 18 (advice) damage: 1d4 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 4 + 1 = 6 (advice)

He looks for some advantage for the ratfolk, for all his courage, isn’t doing much damage, and Yambul isn’t sure he can hang onto his kitchen knife much longer.

Despite Zzvkgrogk's small cover, and the adjustment to avoid the engaged in melee Yambul, Chaance's arrow strikes on the man's left, exactly where Rūha advised and only thanks to that.

When the ratfolk is halt, dazed by Bella's arts, Rhoreen responds with just as much against Arturo.
Will DC 14: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

The man freezes in place, which is profited by Yambul to stab his knife deep on his belly. The greasy blade penetrates easy through the exposed clothing. Arturo falls over Yambul's arms, then to the ground.

Rūha does something heroic!

Val looks for something to defend herself and takes a chandelier in his hands "Can... can you use that TickTock or whatever it is to find Baine?!"

Bella looks unimpressed at her companion's fall "Men. Always unconscious before the real thing begins" she says a word of arcane power and her hand crackles with electricity.
Concentration DC 17: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21
Shocking grasp-spell combat+metal (touch): 1d20 + 3 - 2 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 - 2 + 3 = 11
shortsword+arcane-spell combat: 1d20 + 3 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (7) + 3 + 1 - 2 = 9
It goes just by an inch she does not touch Yambul's knife, she tries to stab him with her shortsword as well but the Kellid just dodges once more "Armfff!"

The TickTock meanwhile gets bored of the box and moves north breaking the window with its metallic arms "*beep* ଅସ୍ୱାଭାବିକ ଭୂପୃଷ୍ଠ ଦୁର୍ଘଟଣା *piiip* ମରାମତି *bit*"

Zzvkgrogk recovers from the daze.

Arturo: 13 damage, unconscious, dying
Round 3: Zzvkgrogk, Rhoreen, Yambul, Val Round 4: Chaance, Rūha (x2), Bella, Robot

Everyone can act!
Rūha can take his previous round actions too.

Rūha sees the cook and Zzvkgrogk struggling against the two hooligans, and wars internally for a moment with what to do. The two 'Technic League' members had already hurt and harassed a child, and were looking to steal a robot from her on top of that. The local law enforcement was probably as woefully ineffective here as it was in Hajoth Hakados, so chances are neither crime would be punished.

Right now though, they were armed and dangerous, even if incompetent. The two up front could get seriously hurt. She dashes in, circles past the fallen hooligan, and attempts to distract the remaining one to give the ysoki a better opening.

Spending two more rounds of advice. Then, moving in on first round, slowly due to acrobatics.

Acrobatics to avoid AoO: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15
Aid Another (bonus to Zvvkgrogk): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Zzvkgrogk shakes his head welcoming clarity.

"Let us turn it off. The batteries are being wasted!"

POKEatBella: 1d20 - 1 + 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 + 1 = 3 Bless
for Damage: 1d6 - 1 + 1 ⇒ (5) - 1 + 1 = 5 Bless

The diminutive warrior-want-to-be's spear goes wild, and he nearly jams it into the flailing android, pulling it back just in time.

Round 3, Init 5

Rhoreen moves to see the combat more clearly, taking in what is happening. Again, she uses her skymetal wand to jinx the remaining Technic Jerkhole.

Skymetal Omen: The subject of this omen is jinxed with the unquantifiable nature of skymetal. When the target makes an attack or saving throw during the next round, it must roll twice and take the worse result. A DC 14 Will save negates this effect. 2/50.

Yambul again manages to avoid the hammer coming down on his neck. He’s astounded at his luck, and prays fervently to Desna for just a little more…

Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22 vs DC 13 or lose the knife…

He 5’ steps to the SE to give Zzvkgrogk a clear shot. He takes a moment (move) to study his new foe (+1 att/dam), and he takes a slice at the woman trying to electrocute him (standard)!
Dagger: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 5 + 2 = 19 (advice, study) damage: 1d4 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 4 + 2 = 7 (advice, study)

He's pleased with his effort and hopes the group can bring her down quickly if he's hit too badly to continue himself. Desna's luck is fickle, and he knows he can't stretch it too far.

Round 4

"The TickTock is talking about an 'abnormal surface crash' and a 'repair'. Val, I think it's mostly harmless. So occupied with its own maintenance, I gather." Chaance wants to get closer, but decides she was lucky to have hit anything at all, with the indoor alleyway she's in.

She draws her rapier, and readies to strike at the last Leaguer, should she try and depart against the wishes of the others.

"Has she come to her senses? She must really want the TickTock, or she really thinks that highly of her fighting skills, to stand up to greater numbers like she is. Any chance we can start talking?"

Rūha jumps over the fallen man, avoiding the blade as the woman tries to slash at her.

Recovered, Zzvkgrogk pokes forward, but only stabs the wooden ground.

Rhoreen does more jinxing making Pinky's day even worse.
Will DC 14: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

Yambul holds the fishy knife and once more stabs at the belly of his adversary, opening an ugly bleeding wound. Bella spits a blob of blood.

Chaance does not see a clear shot and changes to a rapier.

"Do not think this is all... you will soon regret having wronged the League..." holding her belly with one hand, Bella jumps over the TickTock and through the broken window.
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 91d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13
She crashes against the glass, but with such a bad jinx, a large piece falls over her as she does. Further on, the woman falls badly over her ankle, you hear a loud snap, then she disappears as she falls to the ground knocked down.

"*burp* ଏକାଧିକ ସେନ୍ସର ତ୍ରୁଟି *beep* ସ୍ୱ-କାଲିବ୍ରେସନ୍ ସଂପୂର୍ଣ୍ଣ *piii* ଏକାଧିକ ସେନ୍ସର ତ୍ରୁଟି *beep* ମରାମତି *ip* ମରାମତି *puuurt*" the defective TickTock bashes the wall of the storeroom, breaking it slightly and making one shelve at the other side to fall, breaking the porcelain there.

"No!" Val shouts shocked "Stop that thing, is going to destroy the house!"

Bella: 8 damage, unconscious, dying, jinxed r5
Round 4: Zzvkgrogk, Rhoreen, Yambul, Val Round 5: Chaance, Rūha, TickTock

Everyone can act!

Does the town have a sheriff or law enforcement? And what, in general, does Rhoreen understand to be the relationship between the Technic League and Torch as it regards to things like this? We know the town pays a lot for the privilege of existing, but what about matters like this?

Rhoreen pauses, considering her next action. She angry.

Round 5

With the smash of a window, and a direct line of sight on the TickTock, Chaance deduces that the Leaguer might have just done more damage to Val's house that the broken little fella. She sheathes her rapier, glad to know she's unlikely to use it, and also glad to have both hands free, in case she needs to use her bow again.

She wants a closer look at the TickTock, of course, so she moves into the room, and gives it a once over. "Aren't you a sight." She speaks the Common tongue, uninterested in engaging the clockwork construct in meaningful conversation, as it's obviously unable to uphold its side of a chat.

Move to Sheathe, Move to Move, so much to do...

Unable to do anything about the robot, Yambul goes outside to drag the woman back in with the group. He doesn't know what the plan is, but he's sure that leaving a bleeding body in the street shouldn't be a part of it.

He tries to sheath his dagger to do so...
Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 vs DC 13

...and drops it on the floor. He leaves it there for the moment as he goes outside.

Round 4

Seeing the pudgy cook go to drag Pinkie back into the home, and not yet seeing any guards on the way, Rhoreen goes to see what can be done about the TickTock.

”Does anyone understand that language?” she asks, trying to piece together what the construct is trying to do…or what it might need to calm down.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21 Know (Arcana) or Metalcraft