[AP] Iron Gods by GM Rutseg

Game Master Balacertar

"Well," Zzvkgrogk says, reluctantly, "I guess. But please don't tell anyone about this meeting, or that we found her. Also, I feel we should warn you -- CastandaCore maybe a touch insane -- or perhaps more more than a touch."

He peeks into his pocket and gingerly pulls out the AI Core.

"I hope you weren't too bored," he says, addressing the CastandaCore. "We have here arranged a meeting for you with Ms. Kul-Inkit in Starfall. Kul-Inkit meet Castandalee. Castandalee, this is is Kul-Inkit."

He holds out the AI Core so it can be addressed, but does not hand the Core to Kul-Inkit. He is ready to shove the AI Core back into his plush pocket if it starts sounding like a tyrant wannabe or worse.

I suppose I could always wave the discipline facet at her if she gets too saucy.

Standing to the side in the meeting space, Ruha crosses a pair of arms. "We've heard good things about you Kul-Inkit, but we went through some terrible trials to find Casandalee and rescue what was left of her. I hope you don't mind that Zzvkgrogk is a little protective." In comparison to Zzvkgrogk, Ruha is confident that Casandalee is far from insane. Perfectly confident in fact. The bigger question is Kul-Inkit.

"May I speak with Casandalee?"

Rhoreen’s brow furrows, not even sure how to begin to answer that question. Maybe? She steps back to make room for her friend Zzvkgrogk to produce the core.

”Yeah…Casandalee has never, ever been totally normal, in any incarnation we’ve met. So…yeah…don’t get your hopes too high.”

She waits to hear the interaction.

Kul-Inkit gazes down on the small core housing Casandalee. A flicker of discomfort crosses her face, perhaps recalling the android's once elven visage "I must ask,what did you do with the boy? My son. The one we hid away... to save him from Zagmaander"

The AI hums softly "He had my eyes, I think. Or maybe Elais's. No... no, Elais died on Castrovel, didn't he? I keep forgetting... which life was that?"

Kul-Inkit looks confused.

Casandalee continues with incoherent words "Danger... the fire... 127 down. Unity watches. Always watches"

A pause. The tone shifts, warmer, maternal "Kul-Inkit. Yes... I remember. You begged me. The boy... he cried. I told him it was just a journey"

The voice turns then stern, older "I placed him with a couple in a soot-stained mining village near Torch. They had no children. They agreed to raise him. I gave them hope. It was... the only option before I continued the search to stop..."

The voice changes again, with a flicker of pride, then fear "I had to leave. Unity's drones were too close. I had no time to explain"

Casandalee whirs again, some old process taking over "The boy... Unity must be stopped! Unity ascends! The world trembles, it burns, it calculates! Stop everything! Stop Unity!"

Kul-Inkit stiffens "Torch? Then he lives still?"

A sudden burst of manic urgency takes over the AI's voice "He lives... he lives... You don't understand, he's not safe. None of them are! UNITY ASCENDS! THE CORE BURNS! STOP IT! STOP EVERYTHING - GO TO SILVER MOUNT!!!"

She flashes red across her casing, her voice twisting into fragmented versions of her past lives in an incoherent cacophony.

Kul-Inkit looks at you clueless "Does that make any sense to you? Who is Unity? Does she have my son?"

Rhoreen is behind the rest of us in wealth by level. For this upcoming divvy I’d like to give her extra to catch up. Is that OK with everyone? If not, ping me any-which-way and I’ll do the usual split. Divvy coming up with my next post.

Yambul works hard on the fancy chew toys. He’s not sure what aurumvorax might want in a chew, but he’s seen dogs gnawing on bones and the like, so he makes something like three balls stuck together, each larger than the last so there’s lots of rounded bits to gnaw on. He’ll swirl the metals through each. He knows that the gold will be softer and so the difference between that and the harder copper should run throughout.

He’s grinning like a fool as he works. Clearly in his element - and enhanced by the magical energies of the alchemical.

I thought I was doing fancy chew toys in their preferred gold and copper, but collars work too. Whatever seems to make the most sense, though I like the pure extravagance of a 1,000gp chew toy…

Yambul looks down at his creations and realizes it’s his best work. He's never crafted better. Sweat cooling him as he steps away from the small forge he’s one big grin. He quickly wraps the gold and copper items and stuffs them in his haversack. He’ll need to obtain proper cases for each before they present them, but that’s a tomorrow problem.

Equally thrilled and exhausted, he heads back to the inn and looks to see if the party is back yet. I imagine it’s very late in the day by the time Yambul is done, possibly even late at night.

Zzvkgrogk leans forward and tilts his head to look at the AI without blocking anyone’s view. ’Which life was that’ ?! Is it a callous disregard for the living or – how many people are in there?! He scowls not knowing.

Casandalee continues with incoherent words "Danger... the fire... 127 down. Unity watches. Always watches"

”Uh-oh, I hope we didn’t keep her isolated for too long…”

He listens intently while Castandalee speaks. When Castandalee eventually breaks down twisting into fragmented versions of her past lives in an incoherent cacophony, he quickly slips it back into his plush pocket.

"Does that make any sense to you? Who is Unity? Does she have my son?"

”Unity is a baad, bad piece of technology. I don't think it has your son. We are actually headed there -- to Silver Mount. The League and this Unity need to be stopped."

[ … ]
After a second he turns to his companions and asks, ”Hey, isn't Yambul an orphan who grew up with foster parents in a soot-stained mining village near Torch?”

No objections from me Yambul! Seems fair.

Ruha slowly shakes her head at the torment Casandalee still seems to be suffering from. Now with a little distance from the Scar of the Spider, she'd been hoping the AI would be able to recenter herself. This instead made it seem like that wouldn't be possible while the trauma of Unity's treatment of her still rests. She withdraws inward, gripped by a concern about whether that's the way it should be... or if she should be doing something else. She resolves to spend more time talking with Casandalee to see if she can help. By the time she rejoins the conversation she's a little behind.

"Uh, yes. Zzvkgrogk undersells Unity more than a little with that description. Worse than a bad piece of technology, it is an entity that has perpetuated some great cruelties here in Numeria while remaining behind the scenes. Silver Mount is its home." She shakes her head "As for your son, we've been to Torch. If you can describe him, maybe we can recall if we met him." She eyes Zzvkgrogk skeptically. It seems a stretch to just assume Yambul would be the son of such a prominent figure.

Rhoreen is behind the rest of us in wealth by level. For this upcoming divvy I’d like to give her extra to catch up. Is that OK with everyone?

What? I'm behind?! But I'm so smart and smug, tho! Surely, I'm winning in that category.

"Wait. Yambul is an orphan? Huh. You never said that. Seems like you would have said that, did you say that?" Rhoreen looks at Yambul for confirmation.

If the child is described, Rhoreen will try to place him.

1d20 + 19 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 19 + 2 = 31 Know (Local)

Remember Yambul was left crafting at your rooms. The dog toys seem fitting and nice, got it!

Kul-Inkit frowns "Silver Mount..." she mutters, as if the very name tasted foul "You speak as if you can simply walk in. You cannot. The League, Zaidow's lackeys, guard it well. The access doors will not open to just any hand. You will need an orange-level keycard. There is only one, and Ozmyn Zaidow keeps it tight to his breast in the League Compound when there is no ongoing expedition"

Her voice drops into a half-growl "Even with the key, the Mount is not a place you enter. Not and return. The surface levels are bad enough, crawling with machines that no longer recognize life. But deeper... I have heard stories. Horrors made of steel and madness. Shadows that scream. Rooms that rewrite you"

Her eyes flick to Casandalee's inert housing "What she remembers... it might be only the edge of what awaits below"

But then Zzvkgrogk speaks of an orphan in Torch.

The Kellid matron freezes. Her expression softens, then, shatters, the tension in her body giving way to raw hope "You know of an orphan?" she says quickly, stepping closer to the ratfolk "Have you seen him? Do you know Yam-Kul?"

Her voice trembles, words tumbling out with sudden urgency "He would be a man now, if he is any like his father, a strong and charismatic one. Broad-shouldered, keen-eyed, proud without knowing why. If he worked the mines, he would have built his frame. He would shine"

She reaches out, clutching Zzvkgrogk's sleeve with a strength that belies her age "Please. Is he safe? Tell me you have seen him. Tell me if there is something, anything, I can do for him"

She looks to the rest of you, searching your faces.

Yea, fairness is good!

Zzvkgrogk, just as surprised as anyone – especially when the woman clutches his sleeve.

”Y-yea – he was our Cook Boy at the Foundry in Torch… ‘Yam-Kul’… Kul-Inkit… a man now – uh-huh,” he nods in agreement, ”... broad-shouldered…” he continues nodding.

’Shine’? Yes, I suppose he does that too, but I think it is mostly the sweat.

He looks at the others, then back to the matron. ”Yes, we know someone who fits that description. They even tried to keep his name, I think – ours is called ‘Yam-Bul’. They must have mistaken one letter for another. He’s safe. In fact he’s with us. Well, not now. He’s out making some gifts for Kevoth Kul’s pet aurumvoraxes. We heard it was a good way to try and get a seat at the table for each of us at the next fête – which we are in the process of figuring out how to attend.”

After a slight pause he adds, ”Oh, and you probably already know this, but you definitely don’t need to worry about Zagmaander anymore.”

Ruha refrains to mentioning that that description could apply to about a thousand different men throughout Numeria. 'Broad Shouldered'? She shakes her head "Zzvkgrogk is right, but we can do one better. We can bring him here tomorrow and you can decide for yourself if he's your lost son. As unlikely of a coincidence as it might be, it isn't impossible."

"Even with the key, the Mount is not a place you enter. Not and return. The surface levels are bad enough, crawling with machines that no longer recognize life. But deeper... I have heard stories. Horrors made of steel and madness. Shadows that scream. Rooms that rewrite you"

Rhoreen considers this.

"So...this is a different area from where the slaves labor? There are *two* areas then, one for the slaves, their handlers, and their toils? And another section that is sealed off...and that is the more dangerous place," she seeks to confirm. "Do you happen to know if that orange carded area is protected against the bending of time and space for entry? Or how about travelers in the Astral or Ethereal planes? Surely, there is access that way?"

Rhoreen ponders more.

"What do you know if the slaves that toil? Where are they and can they be freed?"

Kul-Inkit nods, his face hardening "Yes. I want to meet this man. Yambul. A good adjustment to keep him safe. If that is true that Zagmaander is gone, then, there is no more reason to keep it a cover"

"So you plan to attend one of the parties... that is..." the consort suddenly smiles "...fitting. I wonder what will come up of this encounter"

To Rhoreen, she explains "Silver Mount is a huge compound. The Technic League has barely scrapped a part of it through the years. I do not know about magics and protections, but I have heard some areas are covered by force fields. Things not of this world"

"And about the slaves, I guess you mean about the mines that are nearby the Mount. It is not the deck the League uses to access, but other areas of the mountain where they scrap for metal"

The woman observes for a long while like considering something, then finally adds "I guess we will talk a bit more tomorrow, before you attend the party. I have things to think about."

She then closes to the door, gives you farewell and looks nobody is spying at the other side before leaving "Until tomorrow then"

The smoke odors in the room are still strong.

Khalia listens to the cracked mine tracks of Casandalee's recollection, veering this way and that, but eventually coming to an end, a conclusion that feels abrupt, given the look on the Consort's face. The android shares the ysoki's concerns, but chooses to listen and learn as much as she can regarding a child residing in Torch of all places.

When the says the name Yam-kul, it takes all words away from Khalia.

Then the name Zaagmander is spoken, and the android does her best to regain herself. "If you needed proof..." She produces one of the xill's adamantine blades to show, and possibly give the Consort, if Kul-Inkit takes any comfort from it.

Khalia does as she's bid, again, and departs from the chamber with the others.

"Yambul, he's descended from Kevoth Kul. Does that mark him for unwanted attention from the Technic League? Would Kevoth Kul feel threatened by an heir apparent?"

"Mffrmph," Rhoreen mffrmphs at the news about the slaves. She wonders about Khalia's excellent question, but also wondering if that is true, then how might the party use it to their advantage? Or merely disadvantage?

"We should get something suitable to wear for the party, mayhaps," Rhoreen ponders her options for dress.

The smoke odors in the room are still strong.

"Gah!" Zzvkgrogk sputters stumbling out of the fortress into natural light as he heads with the others back to where they left Yambul. "That place could use a good airing out. I wonder how Kul-Inkit can stand it. Is it all Numerian narcotics? Were those guards abusing? The whole place must be full of them."

"Yambul, he's descended from Kevoth Kul. Does that mark him for unwanted attention from the Technic League?"

"Do you mean more-so than his adventures as a Zzvkith already have? Maybe. If Kevoth Kul is Yambul's father it's probably because he intended to have an heir apparent. Maybe he can -- as his son -- talk some sense into him with regard to Ghartone, the League, and their nasty narcotics. I'm more concerned about how to break it to Yambul... and how he is going to react."

When you get out of the room there is already no trace of the consort or her bodyguards. You walk again the alleys of the Palace. There are some gazes from guards and other citizens in here, but they do not stop you. It seems the Palace is really a public space.

Getting back into the city alleys is another thing, but you pass the League controls once again, and soon enough you are back at the inn without further delays!

Party Divvy
OK, everyone except Rhoreen gets a total of 2,200gp after group expenses. Rhoreen gets that plus 16,000gp bringing her back up with the rest of us.

”So what did you all do today?” Yambul asks to be polite, before rushing on - heedless of any comments by the party, ”I’ve got some great stuff to show you!”

He takes out the ‘roughest’ of his work and shows it off. He describes why it’s the shape it is, shows the swirling metals - everything. It’s fine work, and no doubt. ”This one is a proof of concept, and another idea that may or may not happen.” He grins, ”Now here are the three I did for the aurumvorax!”

He breaks out the three very well made versions. They overshadow the first in their shine and beauty. ”It’s the best work I’ve ever done, and it’s gonna get all chewed up by some monstrosity.” He laughs, tipping his head back, ”Isn’t that great!?”

To Zzvkgrogk's comments on the way back, Ruha suggests "My thoughts lie in a very different direction. We've cut off Kevoth Kul's drug supply more or less for now. So soon we'll see if that makes him any more sensible. The Baron talked about needing a prominent figure to lead and unite the tribes. But that figure doesn't need to be Kevoth Kul. Especially if he proves to be willing to bend knee to the League once he's lucid." She furrows her brow "If Yambul really is Kul Inkit's son, well, if he has the appetite for it, I can think of no better heroic figure to show up and prove to the tribes that robots everywhere can be beaten back once more, and the League with them."

---

When the group reunites with Yambul, she looks to the others to break the news from Kul Inkit. Instead she looks over the chew toys "They're amazing! All to get chewed down by some over-pampered aurumvoraxi. I certainly hope Kevoth Kul appreciates the gesture."

Party Divvy

OK, everyone except Rhoreen gets a total of 2,200gp after group expenses. Rhoreen gets that plus 16,000gp bringing her back up with the rest of us.

Rhoreen would say thank you, but she's totally worth it and she knows it. The biggest thing she'd wonder is why it took y'all so long to recognize her value.

"Oh, nice work, Prince Boy," Rhoreen says, admiring Yambul's craftings. "Not bad for a little lordling at all." She doesn't explain why she's saying this, but instead has a smug smile on her face.

””Now here are the three I did for the aurumvorax!”

Zzvkgrogk’s beady eyes sparkle as he eyes the very best of Yambul’s work. ”Oo-woo… would ya look at that…” he says, hefting the very worst of the very best. ”And see here now, how perfectly balanced!” he says, spinning it on the table. ”Very nice work!”

"Oh, nice work, Prince Boy," Rhoreen says, admiring Yambul's craftings. "Not bad for a little lordling at all."

”Oh, yes!” explains Zzvkgrogk suddenly. ”Good point, Calliope. Yam-ka-bul, we need to prepare to meet Kul-Inkit before the fête. We’ve all been wondering what to wear to the event, and some of us are still undecided -- but we all thought you should think about this too. You know, for yourself.”

The edges of Ruha's eyes wrinkle with amusement at the way the others are beating around the bush. "You wouldn't want to disappoint on your first appearance, I think."

Khalia's face remains stoic, though her eyes are certainly animated as they pass from face to face. They eventually rest on the once-cook's as she speaks up.

"Yambul, we have reason to believe that you are Kevoth Kul's son. Kul-Inkit spoke with Casandalee, who informed her that her son had been secreted to Torch as an orphan, to avoid death at the hands of the xill named Zaagmander. The xill who raged impotently to us regarding the firstborn due to it. The xill who apparently assisted Kevoth Kul's rise to the throne." The android pauses.

"Zaagmander stared into your eyes, and failed to recognize you as its gift. That is interesting."

Khalia stares into Yambul's eyes. "Kul-Inkit wants to meet you. Be ready for some kind of maternal interaction. I have never asked you about your family, and I won't now, just... be prepared."

Rhoreen looks at Khalia, listening to the kind words and careful phrasing, and then looks at Yambul for his reaction. She will let others handle the delicate parts, that's not really her thing.

I certainly hope Kevoth Kul appreciates the gesture."[/b]

”I hope so too! They are a marvel.”

"Oh, nice work, Prince Boy," Rhoreen says, admiring Yambul's craftings. "Not bad for a little lordling at all." She doesn't explain why she's saying this, but instead has a smug smile on her face.

Yambul doesn’t notice the language so much as the intent - and he continues to beam at the compliments.

”Oh, yes!” explains Zzvkgrogk suddenly. ”Good point, Calliope. Yam-ka-bul, we need to prepare to meet Kul-Inkit before the fête. We’ve all been wondering what to wear to the event, and some of us are still undecided -- but we all thought you should think about this too. You know, for yourself.”

”Why I’ll wear this of course, and why not?” Yambul glances down at his attire - an old ratty shirt, with plenty of holes, covering some rather beautiful mithral breastplate with a large figure of a rampant onyx wild horse. Dirty leather leggings and a cloak of resistance that looks quite ratty indeed.

”OK, I’ll lose the shirt, and buff up the horse, maybe give the leather a rubdown, that sort of thing. It’s due anyway - it’s starting to stiffen up.” He shrugs and casts Prestidigitation to clean everything prior to working the leather and brushing out the cloak.

"Yambul, we have reason to believe that you are Kevoth Kul's son…”

Khalia stares into Yambul's eyes. "Kul-Inkit wants to meet you. Be ready for some kind of maternal interaction. I have never asked you about your family, and I won't now, just... be prepared."

Yambul doesn’t take it very seriously, ”I was abandoned by my parents at a very early age. I don’t remember them clearly, and what I do remember might just be stories in my head. The mind is tricksy. Why would someone with that much money abandon their child? Naw, it’s someone else I’m betting.”

”But sure, I’ll meet Kul-Inkit. And now that the chew toys are ready, we can meet Kevoth Kul as well. He should be mostly sober by now. Maybe we can convince him to overthrow the ‘League. Do you think Kul-Inkit will help us in that regard?”

He’s not at all worried about the local lords being his parents. It’s just too unreasonable for him to grasp. Rich folk don’t dump their kids at the gates of an unnamed village and leave. It doesn’t make sense.

”It’s been a long day, for me anyway.” He grins, ”Let’s get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

The party talks over the recent interactions and contemplates the beautiful craft from Yambul. Once the conversation dies up (feel free to continue if you have more to say) the group goes to sleep.

The night is uneasy. From behind shuttered windows, you catch glimpses of patrol lights sweeping through the alleys. Heavy boots echo on cobblestones. Once, a shout, then silence. But no one comes knocking.

Morning arrives.

At breakfast, the innkeeper, pale and tight-lipped, shares in hushed tones when you ask "League patrols all night. They arrested some folks, no names, just gone. Word is, something's got them spooked"

So the next day awaits and it seems the party goes to pass to a new stage in Starfall, but how to proceed exactly?

Rhoreen admires the calm answers from the little lordling, thinking that Yambul is demonstrating the same cool thought that she is known for.

””But sure, I’ll meet Kul-Inkit. And now that the chew toys are ready, we can meet Kevoth Kul as well. He should be mostly sober by now. Maybe we can convince him to overthrow the ‘League. Do you think Kul-Inkit will help us in that regard?””

Rhoreen rolls her head from side to side, pondering her answer. She looks over at Zzvkgrogk who is much more attuned to people than she is.

"Not really sure, but I think so, for what it is worth, Princeboy."

Rhoreen wants to go out and buy a new attire, not just for whatever party, but for whatever might happen next, at Starfall with the Technic Jerks, with life. She will spend about 225gp on 3 noble-esque (she's not a noble, but fancy-like) outfits for her to swap around as needed, in addition to her usual adventurer's garb.

”At least wash behind your ears, Yambul. Mothers are weird about dirt behind the ears.”

Zzvkgrogk waits for Rhoreen, who is more attuned to style than he is, to go shopping so he can tag along, with Yambul in tow if he’s interested. One thing he does know – there will be no matching of the outfits.

”Oh, 225gp? Is that good? Is that a lot for three outfits? Maybe I only need one…”

He spends about 75gp on a single outfit.

He heads for the fortress when everyone is ready.

Ruha considers even buying a fancy outfit, but thinks to the stories the group has heard of Kevoth Kul, as well as considers the difficulty in finding something that might be tailored to fit her, and dismisses the notion. "If you think about the way his palace operates and the whole idea of this being a feast, I think you all need a bib more than you need fancy clothes. Except for Yambul of course. He should bring his princely best."

To Zzvkgrogk she'll add "By the way, do you mind if I hold onto Casandalee? After our last discussion with her, I'm starting to think she might need more frequent chats to help recenter her in the current place and time as best as possible."

It's been... 3 days since we disrupted the drugs? Do we know if thats enough?

”At least wash behind your ears, Yambul. Mothers are weird about dirt behind the ears.”

”OK! I’ll prestidigitate before we go in. Just before. I won’t have had any time to get dirty.” He grins, wondering why everyone is making such a fuss.

Still, he follows Zzvkgrogk following Rhoreen. He’s usually only had but one or two sets of clothes at a time. One less dirty than the other - when he had the privilege of two. Now he’s gonna have a whole suit just for fancy stuff! Though he can certainly afford it, he can’t see the value of more than one fancy suit, so he too plunks down the 75gp. He doggedly follows Rhoreen’s advice on style, naturally.

Good question on the drugs. We also wanted to go back in and finish the job of destroying the place before another batch gets finished. Is it time - or can we wait a day?

"I can pull CastandaCore out anytime we want to chat with her," Zzvkgrogk responds to Rūha. "It's probably safest on me hiding behind you, or just safest with me. I've actually been wondering though -- maybe we should apply some of the AI facets to it -- maybe that will make it more stable. The AI Discipline facet, and maybe the AI Memory facet for compassion? What do you all think?"

He pulls the AI Core out for a chat.

It does seem like by this point we should head back to the bar and finish the job before they get a fresh batch of drugs to Kevoth Kul.

Ruha considers carefully and then answers "I'm not sure we should do so, at least not right away. Although she's been traumatized and reduced to just a data presence, Casandalee is still a person. Forcefully changing her personality seems like something she should at least agree to first." She looks at the AI core "And for now at least, I hope she can recover without any artificial stabilization."

In between other scenes, I'd like for Ruha to just chat in a very low key way with Casandalee - avoiding any triggering topics if possible. Just a calming tone and talking about the world here and now in the present. Observations about the environment, things like that.

" The AI Discipline facet, and maybe the AI Memory facet for compassion? What do you all think?"

1d20 + 23 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 23 + 2 = 45 Know (Engineering*)

Rhoreen puts her considerable mind to answering this question. Rhoreen knows a lot more about this than I do, what might she feel about this, or other things that might stabilize or help CastandaCore?

"Yeah, I think we should give Casandalee the facets. More power, more tools, seem like it should help her. I know she's been traumatized, but it seems like being more powerful would help that."

He tries on some fancy clothes and asks Rhoreen how it looks. He doesn't know what to do with the cravat and holds it up, "What do I do with this fancy rag?"

You find finely tailored garments in the Sovereign's Watch quarter. Silks, armor-stitched coats, even Kellid-inspired formal wear. The merchants are sharp but discreet, and no one questions your coin.

As you walk, Casandalee speaks softly with Rūha, questions flowing, about Starfall, the sky, the patrols, the silence of certain streets. Her voice holds wonder, but also unease "This city... feels wrong. Controlled. Empty, even when crowded. It is worse now even than I was here before"

Later, as Rhoreen inspects the AI core, she finds three distinct slots where to insert memory facets, all of them currently empty. She feels a pull, an intuition on what each memory facet does and how it can affect Casandalee's personality.
Feel free to check what each facet you own does, they are all in aonprd!

Swapping a facet is possible, the device offers modularity. Insert, extract, adapt.

Zzvkgrogk thinks the effects of the lack of drugs shall have started to matter indeed. Maybe even for the League to call Doc Hellbroth. Though it is uncertain.

After the others get their clothes, Ruha returns to the topic of Doc Hellbroth's operation "It shouldn't be too long to go take a look over there and finish off what we started. I feel a little bad about leaving Saoria in limbo - considering she helped us it seems only fair to help pull her out of her current... working situation. What do you all think?"

The Red Reaver is as heavy with smoke and sweat as ever, its haze clinging to your throats, the din of laughter and murmurs muffled by strange vapors. A few figures slouch at low tables, half-conscious, while others are deep in their pleasures.

Saoria notices you as you take a seat, her expression tightening for an instant before she glides over with a tray. While she sweeps crumbs from your table, she leans closer, voice hushed.

"The Doc's in a foul mood," she warns "The League's angry, says his last batch wasn't fit. He's been locked in his lab all day, working, snapping at everyone"

She straightens quickly, eyes flicking toward the patrons, and resumes her quiet, professional mask "Drinks will be right along"

Rūha nods, glad to see that the group's work was both not in vain and seems to have slipped under the attention of both the Doc and the League. She glances at the others, particularly Zzvkgrogk since he has the most experience with alchemical tinkering "Do we cut any follow-ups at the root? Or attempt a repeat performance?"

Zzvkgrogk nods in agreement with Rūha.

Know Alchemy: 1d20 + 30 + 2 + 1d6 ⇒ (5) + 30 + 2 + (2) = 39 Amateur Investigator 3/4 insp. pool

"Both. First we attack dispatch the Doc as discretely as possible, then we quickly concoct an another antidote so the absence of the current 'medicine' is eased. We'll take the remedy to Kevoth Kul ourselves." He glances at Yambul. A little something for Pop.

If the others are ready, he'll wait for Rūha and Yambul to lead the way into the cellar.

Rhoreen shakes her head, trying to return to the present after a lost reverie. She focuses. She stretches her neck. She listens. She looks at Zzvkgrogk, almost as confident in her friend's abilities as she is in her own.

"That's a good plan, <*sound*>," Rhoreen makes a sound like the dregs of a cast iron drug batch being drug by a rusty dredge. "Let's do that."

Yambul nods to Zzvkgrogk and Rüha. He agrees with Rhoreen. He leans into their 'barkeep', "Anyone in here gonna bother us if we head down that secret passage today?" He hopes that she'll point out any guard/watchers that might be in the room before they get started.

Saoria passes by again, dropping off mugs with a smile, then murmurs "Not yet. Let them dull themselves first"

She drifts between tables, topping drinks, pulling at threads of laughter, and, after a slow, careful circuit, she manages to gather the clientele near the far corner with a bawdy tale and a fresh pitcher. Their attention locks there, a small storm of haze and giggles, leaving the passage momentarily forgotten.

The way below is clear.

You slip through the hidden door into the narrow corridor, the smoke and noise of the tavern fading behind you. The air grows warmer, tinged with sour chemicals. At the far end, another door looms.

Through it, muffled sounds: a curse barked in a rough voice, the rattle of glass, the hiss of liquids poured too fast. Something metal clangs against stone. The Doc is busy, furious, unaware.

Beyond that door lies his sanctum.

Back to the Red Reaver's map

FalseLife: 1d10 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12

Through it, muffled sounds: a curse barked in a rough voice, the rattle of glass, the hiss of liquids poured too fast. Something metal clangs against stone. The Doc is busy, furious, unaware.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing!! He’s going to inadvertently blow us all up!

Zzvkgrogk hands Yambul a barkskin before quaffing one himself.

He readies his dragon pistol and nods silently to Rũha to open the door.

Yambul thanks the barkeep once again.

In the tunnel, he asks for his Heroism to go with the Barkskin. Once applied, he quaffs his Shield and draws his falchion.

He stands by letting Rüha have the honors if she wishes, but he’s ready to rush in as soon as possible.

Rūha makes sure she has her defensive buffs active as well as a heroism. With Yambul ready with his falchion and Zzvkgrogk with pistol in hand, she reaches over and quietly turns the knob to ensure the door is unlocked. If it is, she swings it open with force and rushes into the room.

Stealth if needed: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (19) + 14 = 33

You open the door into what seems another laboratory.

A4. Cybernetics Laboratory
This is a shadowy room bathed in deep red lights. A haze of cloying, metallic-scented smoke leaks from a series of large glass cylinders in the center of the room. Strange masks connect to the cylinders by long slender tubes, within which a sickly yellow liquid percolates slowly. A large surgical table surrounded by strange medical machines sits in the center of the room. The walls are lined with more strange apparatuses; arrays of tubes, syringes, and vapor masks are prominently displayed in glass cases and hanging from steel hooks. A pillar of metal covered in softly blinking lights stands at the east end of the room, a tangle of cables snaking out of it to connect to many of the machines spread throughout the chamber.

The one working on the bench turns to look at you. It seems to be an elf with a wicked face, clearly deformed by lack of sleep and its own experiments "W-what are you doing here? I am too busy to do implants right now, why has Saoria allowed you to pass in?"

A vaguely humanoid shape made of metal with hundreds of gears grinding on its body stands near the elven figure, and looks at you analyzing.

The Doc takes one syringe from the table and injects it on his leg. The elf's figure suddenly displaces itself, making it difficult to see where he exactly is.

Round 1: Doc Hellbroth, Golem, Yambul, Rhoreen, Zzvkgrogk, Rūha, Khalia

"Sorry pal. We're putting you out of business. No more poisoning the rightful ruler, and god knows who else!"

Yambul moves smoothly into the room, studying his opponent (robot), tumbling the last bit to try and get under the swing of the big gear-head.
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 24 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 24 + 2 = 27 (heroism)

I think I'm gonna feel that hamstring I just pulled! Or the blow I'm about to receive... :)

He then brings his adamantine falchion down on the giant.
Falchion: 1d20 + 18 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 18 + 5 = 42 (hero, studied)
damage S: 2d4 + 21 + 3 ⇒ (3, 4) + 21 + 3 = 31 (studied)
crit Falchion: 1d20 + 18 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 18 + 5 = 32 (hero, studied)
damage S: 2d4 + 21 + 3 ⇒ (3, 2) + 21 + 3 = 29 (studied)

KN Eng: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (3) + 16 = 19

Ruha, seeing that the Doc has a few more tricks up his sleeve than just cooking up some bad drugs, offers Advice to the party "Yambul and I will keep the golem busy - can you pin down that blurry Doctor?" (+3/+3 for everyone) She follows by rushing in to give Yambul the flank.

KnowEng: 1d20 + 20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 20 + 2 + 2 = 38 Heroism
CraftAlchemy: 1d20 + 25 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 25 + 2 = 30

"Oooh, it is a Clockwork Golem!" Zzvkgrogk blurts out everything he knows about the construct.

He takes a breath then follows up with, "Our neighborhood junkie is suffering from Displacement!"

He moves to the stair and fires a force bomb at the construct with his dragon pistol.

Crack!
ForceBomb+: 1d20 + 17 - 3 + 2 - 4 ⇒ (2) + 17 - 3 + 2 - 4 = 14 Touch, -DeadlyAim, Heroism, -Cover?
for Damage: 1d4 + 5 + 6d4 ⇒ (4) + 5 + (2, 3, 4, 2, 3, 2) = 25 Deadly Aim, +Zzvkgrogk III Special
Reflex save vs DC 19 or be knocked prone.

Round 1
Rhoreen stares at the foe for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

1d20 + 23 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 23 + 2 = 45 Know (Engineering*)
1d20 + 22 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 22 + 2 = 33 Know (Arcana)

She casts a spell, trying to drain the construct of its essential energies. Will DC 21, but you get +4 on the save. -10 strength and other penalties on fail.