Lora reloads her pistol while sending more of her healing words into Eva.
The combusted is eager to jump the last rider and engulf it in flames, but Bleach instructs it to shower it with motes of fire instead. He then adds lightning to the mix, hoping it will be enough to take out the lone rider.
Eva and Royken flank the headless rider as they bash it with their weapons. Bleach zaps it with electricity and his minion moves to attack, landing two powerful punches. The final rider goes down, its mount vanishing.
The steeds may have evaporated, but their saddlebags remain. Inside is some mundane traveling gear, plus a grim trophy and two skull bombs.
One of the bags also has a journal, detailing the riders' encounter with Parsus and their journey transporting the pyronite supplies to the Gunworks. The last entry ends just before their arrival.
"That's it. I'm done," Dash declares, shaking her head adamantly. "I don't want none of whatever that bastard Parsus did to my companions. I'm taking my cattle and going back to Alkenstar! You lot can continue on to the Gunworks if you want to. If you do catch up to Parsus, make them pay, will ya?"
"Remind me to memorize some spells that deal with the undead," Bleach says under his breath as the last rider falls. Whether he's talking to himself or his companions is unclear.
"I don't blame you. If I could, I'd ride off as well, but alas. If we manage to see this through, you'll hear how our conversation with Parsus went. One day."
"You sure you'll be returning to Alkenstar?" Eva asks as they recover from the fight. "Loveless has her Shieldmarshals looking for you and if they do, they'll pin some crime on you and have you arrested and executed in no time."
"We freed Forua before that happened, but with us going after Parsus, the chances someone will step forward and do the same for you are dim."
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"I'll be alright. I've got other spots where I can lay low. Good luck!"
And with that, Dash dashes off!
"Someone's smarter than they look," Royken says as he watches Dash rush off.
"Let's get outselves together and get this f*#+ing Parsus sorted," he finally says, turning to the others.
Lora stands for a few moments, counting silently, using her fingers, stopping, looking up as if trying to catch a memory, and then sighs. "I've lost count of the people and things we've killed since the bank so long ago." she kicks one of the unexploded heads in the direction of the fleeing dash. "Before that, I had never injured anything more than a man's pride, a person's honor, and a few livelihoods." she sighs again watching the cows "No matter, Par-sus, is it? Seems he likes clockworks and explosives, seems like a jolly good time."
It takes a couple of days to reach the Gunworks, allowing you time to rest and recover. Perched atop a craggy hill on the edge of Lake Ustradi sits a massive castle with a commanding view of the surrounding wasteland. This citadel is the Gunworks, where Alkenstar’s engineers and metallurgists labor to advance the city’s black powder and firearms technology. The walls of the keep are angular and jutting. Behind their protection stand three large towers as well as the Gunworks’ proudest achievement: a massive cannon known as the Maw of Rovagug, which looms atop the castle like the horn of a mighty beast.
The acrid scent of gunpowder lingers over the fortress, spread through the wastes by a near-constant breeze that wafts from Lake Ustradi. During the day, the courtyard hums with the haggling of artificers and the whinnying of horses, punctuated frequently by resounding booms. Newcomers often dive for cover during the first explosion of the morning, while local residents barely look up from their tasks, accustomed as they are to the deafening crescendos that emanate from the Gunworks’ testing chambers.
After getting inside the fortress and getting your bearings, it's time to start gathering information. The best place to do so in the Gunworks is the Last Stop Saloon. This large saloon is the last watering hole for adventurers headed from Alkenstar to the Western Ravage. The saloon is frequented by a wide variety of gunslingers, card sharks, and deadly mercenaries in addition to off-duty shieldmarshals. A wide porch runs around the entire saloon, from which gunslingers lounging in rocking chairs size up the Gunworks’ newest arrivals.
When you arrive at the saloon, you see none other than Vewslog, the cyclops commander of the Leadsmiths, sitting on a rocking chair on the saloon's front porch, polishing his firearms. He looks up and tips his hat to you...
"Why good morning, dear Vewslog." the red head might look dusty from travel and is standing in front of a notorious but she still performs a delicate curtsey suited for the finest balls. "We seem to be running into each other quiet a lot lately. What, perchance, might be the reason for that, do you think?"
"Maybe just coincidence. Or maybe something more," the cyclops says cryptically, rocking back and forth. "Of course, if you turn over enough stones out here, you're bound to meet a rattlesnake. I've got my eye on you lot..."
The vibe the Last Stop Saloon is giving off makes Bleach feel he is a man out of place. The machoism on display, hidden beneath a thin veneer of aloofness, is anything but Bleach. And when paired with the pride the gunslingers take in their firearms, a clear extension of their projected self-image, he knows he doesn't belong here. All these feelings aren't that unfamiliar to Bleach, however, what with him being a necromancer from Geb.
When the imposing cyclops greets them, time slows down. Bleach would love to shower the porch in a sanguine mist, to ensure that no matter how many bullets fly about, he won't go down, but the collateral damage would be too much. After all, his companions aren't undead - ah! Sometimes, being alive makes things all the more complicated.
"Assuming you want to keep that eye, you best keep doing just that." The words might fail to pack a punch, as neither his voice nor his hunched figure does much to empower them, but perhaps the fact Bleach is a skilled necromancer is more than enough to give them some meaning.
Royken nods back at Vewslog, before he grunts at Bleach's response, and looks to see the cyclops' reaction. He's not sure why the necromancer is antagonizing the leader of the Leadsmiths. If he's not actively employed by their enemies, they don't need to add him to the tally.
"Inside," he growls.
Vewslog glares but says nothing else as you walk past him and into the saloon. The Last Stop Saloon is filled with hardened outriders and wasteland travelers who give you wary looks as you saunter in.
Lora gives the imposing cyclops a wicked smile and a becoming wave, more than slightly flirtatious. She leans into Eva "Might give him the tiniest pause before he shoots me in the head later, who knows."
Once inside she sighs "Bathes will have to wait I guess. Too many opportunities for interruptions with Him out there. I'll be back..." the bard slips into the crowd of hardened outriders and wasteland travelers, acting like a bit of silk in a briar patch, settling on a thorn, sliding against it, and making it remember that there are still lovely things out there. All before the silk slips off again, unharmed, to visit a new thorn.
Is it his garb that makes him stand out in a bad way? Or is it the sad attempts at small talk? Whatever it[ is, Bleach has no success whatsoever in prying any information from the Last Stop's clientele.
Royken growls a lot as anyone approaches and tries to make small talk. Unfortunately, that clear signal to not bother him only seems to attract more people who are curious about the dwarf. He downs a drink.
While neither Bleach nor Eva are able to glean much, Lora and Royken learn some interesting bits of information:
• The talk of the town is that the Gunworks’ two inventor hubs—the Tower of Metallurgy and the Tower of Engineering—both experienced strange accidents recently and each side is currently blaming the other. The heads of the towers (both geniuses with enormous egos) have grown increasingly paranoid and aren’t talking with anyone outside their own organization, fearful of spies. Both towers are demanding the shieldmarshals deal with the “problems” in their workshops, but so far Loy Ayton, the Gunworks’ garrison commander, has chosen not to act.
• Deputy Loveless and a guest named Ibrium both stayed at the saloon last week. Loveless met several times with the Tower of Metallurgy, and Ibrium met several times with the Tower of Engineering. They both had dinner with Loy Ayton during the final night of their stay and then left on a small boat. No one knows where they went.
• The garrison commander in charge of the shieldmarshals at the Gunworks is named Loy Ayton. While not necessarily an ally of Loveless, he’s dealt with her many times in the past, as they’re both high-ranking shieldmarshals. If anyone knows where Loveless went, it’s likely him.
Eva frowns as she tries to put the new information together. "Right, so we know Parsus bought the chemicals from Forua, then hired Dash and her crew to transport it all the way here... he then killed Dash's crew and send them back to silence her as well." She says. "We know shady deals are common in Alkenstar but this level of worry about dealing with all loose ends shows a new level of commitment."
"Very well, our theory still holds. Loveless, Ibrium and Parsus all came here and considering the two towers are blaming each other for strange accidents, it is clear they had already put their plans into motion." Eva adds, showing concern. "We have not heard about Parsus, who has the chemicals, but just about Ibrium and Loveless..."
"I'm thinking of two scenarios... first, Parsus is the one responsible for the accidents and keeping his head low, while Loveless and Ibrium work to instigate the towers against each other; second, Loveless and Ibrium both instigated and sabotaged the towers while Parsus is hidden somewhere creating pyronite."
"In both cases, it seems to be very important for her that the towers are locked and bickering and I bet she paid Loy Ayton, the garrison commander, to not do anything about it." She finishes.
"For what we should do, I can also see two options... plan A would be to reach the Heads of the Towers and make sure they understand they have been played and have a hidden enemy in common; plan B would be to try to track Loveless before she can put more pieces of her plan into motion." Eva finishes, drinking from her cup. "I personally feel plan A is safer. The Heads are waiting for the Shieldmarshals to solve the mysterious accidents so we could disguise ourselves as such and do the job for them."
Eva then tries to think of possible locations Loveless could be heading by boat.
Royken quietly growls as he realizes Eva's plan is again going to have him playing dress up. He's not sure how many more times she can manage it, but suspects he'll somehow end up sitting on a wagon wearing a dress. If she thinks she's going to get him in a floral bonnet, though, she's got another thing coming.
He grunts.
"We could also go find this Ayton, and have a word with him."
Bleach gives Eva a nod of approval. The first plan seems sound, or, sound enough considering the circumstances. "The only issue I see with us pretending to be shield marshals is, eh, that bothersome cyclops. We might need to convince him of our efforts or else he might rat us out."
After listening as Eva's brain gathers and presents, Lora says simply "I don't care about the towers, just Loveless." her chaotic neutral nature comes out. "Anyway, if we take her out, everything else settles"
The Gunworks sits on the banks of Lake Ustradi, which is the only significant body of water in Alkenstar. The Ustradi River heads east from here back towards the city of Aleknstar itself, so Loveless and Ibrium had to either have gone into the lake or back towards the city.
"Sounds like Loveless and Ibrium may already be back in Alkenstar. Let's deal with the problem here -- we made the trip already -- and then we'll go deal with her," Royken says. "So, Ayton, or the towers?"
"Vewslog is either working for Christia Tombend or is her ally, but I don't think she is in bed with Loveless." Eva ponders. "It is certainly possible that Christia is just pushing her bill because of personal beliefs and that she doesn't specifically want Loveless in charge of the Shieldmarshals."
"Like, let's think about it... back at the gala, the way she ambushed us as we arrived it is pretty clear she knew we were not in her guest list, yet she not just let us stay and mingle, but also chatted with us about her bill." Eva adds. "If she was in bed with Loveless, it would not require her too much brain power to put two and two together and think we were the ones in Loveless's way."
"Vewslog is here now, but he is in plain sight and made sure we knew he was there. This doesn't sound like an assassin sent after us... unless he is the distraction, but he seems just too big of a gun to be the distraction." She keeps pondering. "I do thing we should have a serious talk with him to either bring him to our side or deal with him right now... he is too much of a wild card for us to be worried about every moment."
"I think that is true no matter what path we eventually take."
Royken grunts in agreement. If Eva wants to talk to Vewslog, he'll back her up.
Lora sighs but agrees. "Talking is something I can do, so let's go see this gunslinger."
You return to the Last Stop Saloon to find Vewslog still hanging around the premises. The cyclops regards you with a neutral expression. "Help you folks with something?" he asks.
"Very well, Mister Vewslog." Eva starts. "I'll be as direct and honest as possible and I'd like to ask you to do the same. We've always seen the Leadsmiths as professionals and as it happens we are not much different than you."
"So, you've chosen your table at this fine establishment in order to make it obvious to us that you have your eye on us... yet, we do not like the idea of you perving on us."
"I believe you've not decided yet if we are allies, foes, or something in between, and in that we are on the same boat, so I believe it is extremely beneficial to both parts if we figure this out now, before we happen to take an estimate guess and come to regret the decision later."
Royken grunts in agreement.
Vewslog takes a long sip of his whiskey before responding. "Very well. While I'm not at liberty to discuss my business at the Gunworks, I will say this. I'm here to do a job, and do it well. Do not interfere and you'll remain on my good side. Cross me, and I can guarantee you won't live to regret it."
He sips his whiskey again. "Cause you'll be dead," he explains.
Eva frowns, not happy with the outcome. "Well, that doesn't help much, does it? How can we be sure not to interfere with your business if we have no clue about what is it?"
"One thing I've discovered is that when people are considered the best in something for too long, they tend to underestimate the competition... and now and then they are proven wrong." Eva tells. "We are also here to do our job well and we are not your client for you to guarantee we won't live if we cross paths."
"I'm all about calculating risks, Mr. Vewslog, and at this moment I know that unless we know for sure our paths aren't going to cross, I'd rather deal with you right here and right now. Take this as a compliment, Mr. Vewslog, and not as a threat, but we are not comfortable with you being a wild card."
"I still believe that we could share a bit more about our missions. From professionals to professional."
Lora rests on the arm rest of the chair Eva is sitting in. Eye candy on the arm of something even more delicious. "You have heard enough about us to be watching, and you are smart enough to know you've only heard a little." her hand curves around Eva's shoulder, leaning against, and tracing little circles. "We don't need to be enemies." her smile is rather becoming. "If you feel like a more private conversation..." she leaves off the rest, knowing that is all she needed.
Royken grunts. "The girls are right. We feel pretty confident in our abilities -- just like you -- and don't want to cross you if we can avoid it. If not..."
Vewslog scoffs at Lora's proposition. "Please. I have no interest in you in that way. And even if I did, I would break you," the towering giant remarks.
The cyclops gets up from his table and rises to his full 9-foot height. "I've already told you that I'm not going to tell you anything else about my job. So, you want to 'deal with me right here and right now?' And how, exactly, do you plan to do that?"
Vewslog's hands hover near the pistols holstered at his belt. The musician who had been playing the piano comes to an abrupt halt as the other patrons nervously scoot their chairs away from the tense confrontation. You can spot four other people wearing dark suits and bowler hats standing in support of Vewslog--his fellow Leadsmiths.
Royken growls and turns to Eva. "This isn't a fight worth picking. If we have to deal with him, we can do it later."
Eva slams her non-metal fist on the table, frustrated and angry, and is about to rise to Vewslog's challenge when Royken calls them out of the confrontation. "For people fabled about their ability to see into the future, you sure lack foresight Mr. Vewslog."
Surprisingly, she seems pretty vexed by how the cyclops scoffed at Lora's extremely generous offer and the cyplop's lack of imagination. She raises and turns to the lovely bard. "So typical of males from any species to only think about shoving something into a hole when the subject is pleasant time." Frowning, she turns back to Vewslog. "You've just lost a one time opportunity to have your tiny... mind blown away."
Vewslog bares his teeth but doesn't respond to Eva's barb. "Run along, then. Go on, get!"
Lora twirls a finger through the raven locks of her inventor, then gives the cyclops one last look up and down "We should leave the man alone, so he can take 'care of himself." her gaze lingers lower, giving the impression to anyone listening of his current state down there.
His rejection did irritate her, not the sex part, but the alliance. "Shall we go?" she asks her companions without a hint of the irritation, and now ignoring the yelling giant.
Bleach won't admit it out loud, but he agrees with Vewslog's suggestion for them to run along now. "Yes. The cyclops' domineering physique has given him a unique outlook on life ... and he acts accordingly."
A macabre part of Bleach's curiosity does wonder what dropping a sanguine mist on the bowler hats would cause. Literary sources note that the sensation for the caster, when the spell hits a group of the living, can be outright ecstatic. Shame Lora nor Eva will ever be able to experience it ...
Vewslog and his cronies watch you warily as you depart the saloon. They make no move to pursue you, though, and soon enough you are far enough away to speak freely.
"Not sure what he's on about, but f*+! it," Royken said. "He's as much out problem as a pair of tits on a naga. Let's go deal with this tower."
You head first to the Tower of Metallurgy. Inside this reinforced tower, Alkenstar’s finest alchemists and metallurgists continually devise new alloys and explosive compounds under the guidance of Master Metallurgist Della Sangrey. The tower’s rank-and-file researchers live in dormitories on the upper floors, while the lower levels house labs with workbenches covered in pipes and beakers and vials used for testing chemical compounds—an area the metallurgists call the Glassworks. Under the ground floor is the Hall of Crucibles, a cavernous chamber dominated by two enormous crucibles used to smelt new alloys and a dozen smaller crucibles for test batches.
When you arrive, a sleepless Della Sangrey greets you. When you tell her you're here to investigate the trouble at the tower, the half-elf scientist explains that the bottom floor of the tower, the Hall of Crucibles, has been the site of countless small explosions over the past few days. Yesterday the explosions died down long enough for Sangrey to send two alchemists to investigate, but that only set off another round of explosions that killed them both. Sangrey asked Loy Ayton for shieldmarshal reinforcements, but so far he’s refused, claiming his soldiers aren’t equipped to deal with alchemists’ messes.
Bleach flashes Sangrey a puzzled look. "And you have no clue as to what causes these explosions? Whether they're bombs, munitions, or the result of a spell?"
Della shakes her head. "We haven't been able to discern the source due to the constant explosions. But maybe you'll have better luck? I've developed a prototype armor that may protect one of you from the explosions. I'll lend it to you to increase your chances of survival."
Della shows you the prototype blast suit.
Sangrey paints a bleak picture with her words that set Bleach's mind on fire as a plethora of horrible thoughts run amok. One such thought is the notion that the necromancer could be using incorporeal minions to set off these explosions. That's what Bleach would do, anyway, were he to have no morals.
"Alright. I also have some mutagens that offer a modest amount of protection from fire, if anyone cares for one. I can also protect up to two of us with a casting of stoneskin."
Royken grunts, willing to take Bleach's protective spells and ... of course ... risk his beard again for someone else's problem. He eyes the suit, wondering whether Eva might want it. He's used to dodging explosions -- hazard of the job -- but figures he'll take it if no one else wants.
Eva looks at the prototype and then at her chest. She presses her breasts against her chest, and then looks back at the prototype. "I... don't think I can wear those and breath at the same time."
"I doubt I'd be able to move at all." Lora's arms are not toned in the least.
Royken growls and starts clambering into the blast suit.
"I look like a f%!@ing golem," he mutters.