The next floor up was not terribly different from the first floor. More rooms for kobolds scattered around, more kobolds wandering listlessly through the rooms doing idle chores. What purpose they had other than sweeping, the group didn't know. Red wondered if the witch increased the height of her tower the more kobolds she had, just to give them things to do. It was an existence of exuberance in her opinion if that were the case. Like a monarch who expanded their own palace to put their citizens to work when their lives could be better spent elsewhere. But they knew the witch didn't care for the lives of the kobolds she kept, not really. All the evidence they needed was in how Merdon reacted to the disappearance of Sarel. Where the witch had thrown several dozen brainwashed kobolds at them in a hallway, the knight was charging recklessly forward to find a single kidnapped kobold. Sure, it was his mate, Red understood, but she could clearly remember what he'd done for her and Sarel in Ardmach. There was no question in her mind Merdon would become enraged about nearly anything that happened to a kobold now.
The knight insisted on searching every room on that floor, which his companions didn't try to protest. They spread out and investigated rooms with beds, more kitchens, supply rooms, and ultimately found nothing. Not Sarel anyway, and what did anything else matter? At that moment in time, to Merdon, nothing did. He turned towards the stairs to the next floor and started out without even trying to ask the kobolds. It would have been fruitless and he knew it after the first few floors of seeing them. Their vacant gazes said everything he needed to know. Nothing could be gotten out of them. Not without the magical ability to compel them to speak, which he didn't have. Keeping the illusion that he possessed such power was getting harder and harder as the witch placed more pressure on him. If she were watching, she would know by then that Merdon had no such skill.
It was fortunate for him, and unfortunate for Quickclaw, that the witch was preoccupied with something else. The blue kobold was unconscious under the influence of a sleeping spell, and the witch was working her magic away from her scrying orb. A plan had formed to break the Whisperer, and she was certain it would work. He espoused to care so much about kobolds, and in particular his companions. So she would show him how superior her ideals were. Chanting filled the room as she cast the spell, stealing the name of the sleeping kobold, watching her memories as they became trapped in an artifact. All the pain and suffering she saw! Enough to break her heart, that was for sure. Being caged, many times, learning how to escape from such places, the little thing fighting for her life on the streets. Tragedy.
Until she skimmed over the moments the kobold spent with the Whisperer. The witch blushed and, for a moment, wished she could look away during the process. To think she had been compelled to do those things for him. That was what happened, it had to be, but the kobold's thoughts said otherwise. She watched a little more intently in those memories. How Merdon freed her from a cage, how he didn't complain about taking an arrow, the way he got offended at common society for her treatment, and she began to understand. What she learned was the man had no abilities and was thus worthless to her plans. A smirk formed on her face as Sarel's expression blanked like the other kobolds. All the information she could have wanted came from just one of the knight's party, and with that she turned back to her various magical defenses, summoning up her power, and switched the normal ones back on. There was no need to worry about killing the human now; there had never been a need to worry at all. Like every human she had known, he was just another manipulative, greedy, self-righteous monster that used kobolds for his own ends, and she would stop him and his lies in her tower.
The structure shook as if hit by an earthquake, bringing even Merdon down to his knees. He looked around with a frown but nothing changed on the stairwell they were climbing. Something at the top, perhaps, something major. A glance at Red confirmed some of those worries. Her face was one of concern and her claws were primed in a very instinctive way, a flight or fight way. When the shaking stopped, Merdon stood and made sure the last two kobolds he had with him were okay before proceeding. They couldn't afford to be slowed down now, even if it meant he would go alone in the case one of them was injured. Skyeyes had slipped a few steps down, but he recovered quickly and continued climbing. So many floors stood between them and the witch. Between Merdon and Sarel, but he wasn't going to get discouraged so easily. If anything, even if he died in the process, the witch was going to know how much of a mistake she made in the maze.
At the top of the stairs, in the middle of the next floor, which was otherwise empty and barren of both rooms and life, stood a large stone creature. A shiver went down Red's spine as she quietly informed the other two that the jig was up, the witch knew Merdon didn't have powers, because the thing in the middle of the room was a magic-powered golem. It had one task and that was killing intruders, not capturing them. One of many traps the mage had hoped they could avoid by pretending Merdon was important. There was no safety net now, no reason for the witch to hold back, no reason for her to keep any of them alive if they posed a threat. No one posed more of a threat to her than he did now. Golem or not, the knight was mad and ready to do whatever it took to reach the top of the tower, and the way he drew his blade and took a fighting posture declared it. Skyeyes, nervously, pulled his own staff free and took a few steps back, although Red knew the truth she also knew that Merdon didn't. Her claws extended and she conjured fire, ready to back the knight up however she could.
The golem rose, slowly due to its size, and Merdon took the opportunity in stride. He charged forward, lunging as the rocky creature struck with a palm. Red, seeing Merdon sheltered by the monster's form, hurled all the flames she could towards it. Her fire did little but annoy the thing, much as Merdon's sword did. After only a few swings he backed away, retreating to the far side of the room to work out a better plan. His sword was going to need to be sharpened, that was for sure, but the thing had to have a weakness. While it turned around to face him, determining the human to be the intruder despite Red's interference, he scanned it as quickly as possible. A fault in the stone might let him get his sword in there, but then what? Could the magic which held the golem together be disrupted somehow? Questions he didn't have the answers for, nor did he have the time to ask them.
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Across the room, Red was working on her own ideas. Fire meant little to it unless she could superheat the rock and melt it. Capable as she was, she doubted her ability to start melting stone already. She started racking her brain for any small hope she could find, any weaknesses, any spells she might know. Merdon's life was on the line, Skyeyes couldn't heal him, they needed to end this fight quickly and definitively, but there was nothing. No spell came to mind, no plan, she felt frustrated by her lack of ideas more than anything. Angry, Red began throwing more fire and yelling to vent her frustration. Again, her fireballs had little effect on the golem and only served to tire her out. The red kobold dropped to her knees and panted.
Skyeyes stepped over to her, intending to shield her if the golem turned, and asked, “What's wrong?” It was his turn to console her.
“I don't … I don't have any idea how to beat this thing,” she told him. Her eyes were still locked on the golem's backside while Merdon did his best to avoid getting slammed into the floor or walls.
“It's magical,” Skyeyes said, trying to come up with something too. “Perhaps we can isolate it from the witch's power? Could you, maybe, override it?” A spell to steal it away. Red shook her head in response though, leaving Skyeyes to ponder more. Every second counted.
“I can't produce enough heat to melt it,” she said, walking Skyeyes through her own thoughts. “And I can't beat the witch's power, I just don't have enough of my own.”
The priest hummed in thought, almost absently. “Could her power be disrupted then?” he asked. “A fault in the golem could lead to its core, allowing you to-”
Red cut him off. “That won't work. Feeding it more magic would just make it stronger. We need to destroy the core, but we can't get to it because, surprise, it's made out of rocks.” Hence trying to melt it, Skyeyes was following.
“A fault in the rock could still be the key if we can rip it open,” he wagered. “Separate the rocks from the core, cause them to fail.” Expose a weakness.
Red shook her head again though. “Pulling the rocks from the core would be just as difficult as melting it. I would have to generate enough magic to disconnect it, like pulling two giant magnets apart.” Skyeyes was only passingly familiar with magnets, and he wondered how Red knew the difficulty in pulling large ones apart, but he trusted her.
“So what do we do?”
Red sighed, feeling defeated. “I don't … I don't know,” she admitted out loud. Magic was her specialty, not faith-based but actual magic, and she had nothing to help them. She was outclassed in every way here. Merdon wasn't giving up though, she saw that even while she was paying attention to the golem. He was moving as quickly as he could, swinging defensively, keeping it off their backs and sacrificing himself in the process. Scratches on his armor betrayed the number of close calls he'd had while waiting, hoping, for them to solve the situation with their combined knowledge. And Red had failed him.
In one single moment, everything went wrong. Merdon moved back to avoid one swing, and another came flying at him from the side. Red's eyes widened as she saw it coming, saw Merdon lift his sword to block, his shield on the other arm, but it wouldn't be enough. The red kobold lifted her claws and reached for all the magic she had left in her, something, anything, any edge they could be given. Words spilled from her mouth, unbidden by her conscious self, and at that moment she didn't know what she was trying to say. Warp, she would decide later, she was trying to pull Merdon from the golem's grasp, confer with him on their situation. What came out instead was something she found to be complete nonsense.
“Vorp!” echoed through the room alongside the sound of clanking metal and grinding stone. A second later stone impacted against metal, and then stone toppled onto stone. The golem reeled and roared as it looked at its now stumped arm. Merdon's blade had a sheen on it and had cleaved straight through the stone. As the golem looked at its arm, Merdon looked at his sword. It was enchanted, he could tell from the shine, but being as it hadn't been forged to be enchanted he knew it would wear off sooner or later. Taking his advantage in stride, the knight tossed his shield to the side and roared.
With both hands on his sword, Merdon swung like a barbarian, chopping and hacking without care for finesse or style. He was letting out a lot of his anger on the creature before him and it was helpless to stop the onslaught. Enchanted, his sword slid through the stone like paper, starting with the golem's other hand, and then the rest of its arms. As it stood to stomp, Merdon sliced through the one leg it was standing on, bringing it down to the ground with a shout of fury. The knight rammed his sword into the golem's side, then raised his weapon high over his head and brought it down. Then he shoved it into the crease and pried, opening the thing more so he could cut to its very core. There was no gore, no blood or guts, but seeing Merdon act so violently again made the kobolds watching feel nauseous. In the back of their minds, they were thinking of the slaver's cells, of how Merdon had neatly disposed of everyone in his path, and how much he could have done it like this instead.
The golem made a noise and stopped moving shortly before the spell on Merdon's sword wore off, leaving part of his blade buried in the rocky corpse. He was able to free it with a mighty yank, although it cost him the tip of his blade in the process. Frowning at the damage, Merdon put his sword away and went to retrieve his shield before going over to Red and Skyeyes. His helmet came off, the suit of armor getting too hot for him as the adrenaline came down, his sweat dripping off his face and hair onto the shoulders and floor. It was hard to tell if the fight had been that hard, or if Merdon had just overdone it at the end. Still, he looked at them with concern, making sure they were all right before asking Red, “What was that?”
She shook her head. “I don't know,” the mage admitted. “I just... I saw you about to get killed and I needed to do something.” Something proactive, not reactive.
“Well,” Merdon said, reaching out and putting a mailed hand on her shoulder. “Whatever you did, it saved us.” She smiled at his praise. Even if she didn't know how she did it, it felt good to be helpful.
“We should go,” Skyeyes said, pointing to the exit on the other end of the room. “Who knows what the witch will throw at us next.”
Merdon stood and nodded. “That's a good point. For all we know she could put this monster back together.” Then they'd be in trouble unless Red could figure out what she did.
The group collected themselves and started up the next set of stairs. Merdon's frustrations had been partly worked out, but he held a special flame of hate in his chest for the witch. Even if he cut his way through a hundred more of those golems he would find the strength to put his blade into her heart for what she'd done. They had all come too far to not finish the job. It was just a question of how many of them made it out of the tower alive. If Merdon had a say, if worst came to worst, the only ones leaving would be kobolds.