Fickle wind of fate:
Fickle hand of fate:
Dreygard limps to the back of the room, guarding against any reinforcements.
Diurn’s spell completes, doubling the size of Adolphus. The creature rears back and slams its claw into Darthal, dealing him a dizzying blow, though not nearly as devastating as the one it dealt Dreygard. Darthal, seeing the difficulty Adolphus is having hitting the creature, steps next to his large friend and probes at the defenses of their foe, distracting it.
Diurn enters the spot Darthal vacates and takes a swing with his flail. Though his aim is true, the metal plates the creature seems constructed out of deflect the attack, doing no harm.
Dorian moves up to the corner of the hallway and flings an orb of acid at the creature, but the acid hits the wall partially blocking his view.
Valamont and Luc continue to guard the rear.
Diurn moves further in the room and flails ineffectively at the heavily armored foe.
Using divine ferocity he strikes at the armored tank.
Dorian remains where he is and shouts as he flings another ball of acid at the machination. "Careful! It can emit a sonic blast from its head... though this one's in pretty bad shape."
"Are we having any luck with that... iron crustacean?" Valamont calls out over he shoulder as he continues to watch the passage behind them.
"Go ahead, Valamont. I got this!" Luc stays put with same action.
Darthal aids Adolphus again. "All together now!"
Fickle wind of fate:
Fickle hand of fate:
The Pulverizer Automaton’s claw rears back and swings at Darthal again, the motion eerily similar to its last attack, but with much greater results this time, as it knocks Darthal into unconsciousness.
Adolphus again swings at the automaton, but the sight of his friend collapsing to the floor distracts him, and his attack is nowhere close to hitting the metal monstrosity.
The toughness of a dwarf sees Darthal through as he seems to be in no danger of dying...yet. Diurn shifts in front of Adolphus and swings ineffectually at the automaton. Dorian conjures another ball of acid, but this one is even more poorly aimed, hitting the floor.
Valamont moves forward and pulls out his bastard sword, imbuing a portion of his magical essence into the blade as he does so.
Diurn grabs his holy symbol and channels healing power.
"Get close if you want the power."
"Big metal lobster, indeed!"
Dorian flings yet another ball of acid at the construct.
Seeing that it's probably futile to attack from his position, Dorian reluctantly moves closer to the Pulverizer
Dorian starts to move towards the Pulverizer, but stops when he sees that Valamont is readying to advance.
Darthal, feeling consciousness return, looks up at the thing and yells "None of us are hitting it! Everyone help Adolphus! Act like dwarves, not meddling elves! Work together!"
Suiting actions to words, he tries himself from his prone position to distract the thing so Adolphus can land a solid blow.
And, with his beard trailing in the dust, he looks up to see if there's a conveniently labelled self-destruct button just where a gnome child could reach it.
Fickle wind of fate:
The Pulverizer Automaton, having dispatched with Darthal, turns to Diurn and takes a swing at the cleric, but misses badly, while Adolphus finally connects. His huge blade acts more like a hammer as it bashes an enormous dent into the thing's side, exposing wires and mechanical gears within. Despite the damage, the Automaton continues to operate.
Diurn invokes Arshea’s power and waves of healing energy surge from his holy symbol. Darthal, wakened by the healing, grabs at the automaton’s leg, causing it to lurch to the side.
Dorian flings yet another ball of acid, and yet again, the bad angle from the corner of the hall impairs his aim. Valamont moves into the fray and takes a swing at the creature, but misses badly.
Luc shouts from the hallway, unaware of all the misses: "Wow, this thing must be tough. I can't believe you guys still haven't killed it!"
It seems to be working, so Darthal tries again to unbalance the thing long enough for Adolphus to get a more solid thrust into some critical component.
And he looks to see if there are any control buttons, levers, vulnerable spots, etc., etc.
Diurn aids Adolphus in bringing down the creature - Aid another
"Blasted gnomes and their deadly contraptions!"
Dorian, still unwilling to step into reach of the thing, flings yet another ball of acid.
He winces.
Dreygard winces as he sees Darthal go down, but breathes a sigh of relief when Dorian's energy wakes him up.
Steam and sparks again burst from the automaton, this time from the hole in its side created by Adolphus’s blade. Valamont, sensing the thing’s weakness, drives his bastard sword into the weakened creature, his magically enhanced blade cutting through wires and gears. The pinging from the thing’s head cuts off abruptly, and it crashes to the ground, motionless.
"Why, why would anyone make this... this... thing? Bah! Gnomes!" Valamont kicks the heap of metal, then turns to Darthal and offers a hand to help him up off the floor.
Diurn rushes to Darthal and administers healing by touch.
Luc comes in, "Finally! Don't worry, nothing dared attack us from the rear while I was on watch." As he takes a look around the room, he sees the injured dwarf. "Oooh, ouch, sorry there, Darthal. What the hell is that?" Pointing to the pulverizer. Mental note: stay in the back more often if weird stuff like that is down here. Freaky gnomes!
Dreygard relaxes as the thing falls apart, then cringes at his wounds. Damn, I'm not going to last long at this pace. Shoulda edged closer when you popped off that channel. I was afraid something would come in the moment I let my guard down over there.
He then reaches into his pack and pulls out the healing potion he acquired earlier. Should I quaff this, or do you got some juice left?" he asks Diurn.
When everyone is together Diurn quickly channels healing energy again.
and again
and again
After three short burst of healing energy everyone is fully restored.
"I recommend we camp somewhere, as now my healing power is pretty much empty. Any useful parts in that smashed metal?"
Valamont turns to Diurn, "So soon? We've only but just arrived and there are children to rescue. For their sakes I think we should press on. The riddle wasn't very clear as to how long the "not for long" clause is."
"What? Oh yes, that had slipped my mind, mother. Thank you."
"And don't forget one of those skulks gave us the slip. They'll all soon know we're here if they don't already." He shrugs and sheaths his bastard sword, the cold iron sliding into the worn leather scabbard with a satisfying click.
Darthal pokes carefully through the pile of rubble, setting each new bit aside. "I thought I saw something before our muscle boys hacked it into pieces."
Several minutes later, he triumphantly produces a rather different-looking piece of metal from deep within the bowels of the mechanisms, where Valamont's blow had driven it. "Now, what is this?"
"We should go on. And I have thought a thought. I dreamed, before I ever saw the map, of one of the children being trapped in an octagonal room. There are several octagonal rooms on the map the gnome gave us. Perhaps we should try making for one of them first? The skulks must know we are here by now, but I think there must be very few of them, or they would have had more guards, or some responding to us by now. And if there were many of them, they would have cleared out such things as this automaton... right? Or did they activate it somehow." Darthal returns to studying the strange rod.
"I agree, we should continue on. Though my sense of urgency comes from the fact that whatever else lairs down here knows of our presence. Stopping to rest will give them a good amount of time to prepare a defense."
"It's possible these gnomish engines of death attack anything at all, skulks included. That may account for some of these rough tunnels - a way for the skulks to bypass any enduring gnomish defenses." He shakes his head then, muttering. "Gnomes!"
Dreygard points down the western hallway were the skulk-creature ran to. "It ran that way about 40 seconds ago. Do we follow? If they know we are here, gods knows what they might do to the kids!"
Then he thinks for a second about what Darthal said and wanders to the southeast corner of the room. "The nearest octagonal room is about ten feet straight through this wall. With any luck...
Diurl follows the group when they are ready to go.
While rummaging around in the creature's remains, Darthal finds not only the rod, but also a deep blue spinel "heart" that is clearly a valuable gemstone. Dorian studies it a for a moment and declares it to be worth 500 suns.
The rod itself is steel and five inches in length. One end has notches carved into it; the other has a rune . The rune looks familiar – you recall seeing it inscribed on the partially open door in the mask room.
"I wonder, could this rod be a key or something? The rune looks like the one on one of the doors we saw earlier -- that partially open door in the mask room. I wonder if this is how the automatons moved from room to room?"
Darthal shows everyone the spinel, then slips it into his pocket. "I'll carry it for the nonce. We can count up our treasures at the end."
"Being point in this place is dangerous business. I'm glad we have dwarves along. I will use my last spell to heal. We ready to go?" Diurn looks a little drained from his healing exertion.
"I say we go try it on the door in the mask room. Most plausible explanation."
"That's a good idea, Luc. And if it works, then there'll probably be one rod for every rune." He pauses a moment, "Does that seem needlessly complicated to anyone else?"
"If it's not magic, I'm curious as to what it does or how it works."
"Great idea, see if it goes in the Mask Room."
Diurn resumes his position in the line.
"'Needlessly complicated?' That describes the gnome approach to everything... we should probably check it out. My guess is that it's a key of some sort, meant for a probably needlessly complicated lock. But if I remember the gnome's map correctly, the nearest octagonal room should be not very far north of us. Let us go there first before we start tapping wands on doors or something."
Darthal tries again to see if the dog will recognize any of the available scent trails.
Dreygard stares at the spot on the wall and pipes in, "Actually, there should be an octagonal room about 10 feet that way." He points directly south at the wall. "But this damn wall is in the way and I can't find a secret door to go through it. It should be a quick jaunt down those stairs."
"I think you're right, Dreygard - just up these stairs and then there may be a secret door in the northwest corner of the next chamber." As he speaks, Valamont gestures to the south and the passage they passed under when the group snaked through the rough tunnel minutes before.
Valmont can't be showing a dwarf the way through the tunnels, can he? We do have some smart ones along.
"Did I say north? I meant south. Let us go there." Darthal strokes his beard, while waiting to see if the dog picks up a scent.
DDP:
Mite sniffs around the room. At the eastern tunnel his fur bristles and he growls – probably smelling the trail of the skulk that fled. After circling the room, he returns to Darthal’s side and sits down.
With the dog unable to find then children’s scents, Dreygard scouts up the southern staircase. The top of the stairs open to an incongruous sight – what appears to be a small forest. Four great trees sprout from the grassy floor, their leafy crowns fanning out twenty feet overhead to form a roof of deciduous leaves through which rays of sunshine filter. Brambles and thickets form impassible walls, although bramble archways set into the north and south walls lead to dark passages and chambers beyond. Two mounds of stony rubble flank a hole in the middle of the east wall that appears to be a natural tunnel through the underbrush. A gentle zephyr causes leaves to rustle, and birds chirp merrily in the boughs above.
Not believing it for a minute, Darthal casts detect magic and checks to see if illusions are at work.
"Trees!"
Valamont stops mid-stride, his left foot still hanging in the air.
He glances down suspiciously at the ground, "Did he say, 'Freeze!', mother?"
A moment later he directs his question to the group, "Did he say 'Freeze!'?" The half-elf stands there awkwardly with one foot in the air, unsure of what to do.