“Hurry, we're running out of time!" Retisin barks as he falls prone.
"I'm moving, fast as I can," Preen huffs out, clambering over a twisted and gnarled fallen tree as he falls alongside his companion. "I'm well out of my prime, you know that Reti."
“Yeah, keep bellyaching - where is our backup? I thought we all agreed to meet here before any counters,” Retisin asks without expecting a response.
The pair are clad in battered metallic armor, the plates pressing down and splaying their fur out. Each carries a staff adorned with a large gemstone attached to the end made of an organic polymer that can effectively conduct magic, along with an intricately filagreed short blade. Waistbands furnished with several devices encircle their waists, right above their tails.
Retisin produces a spotting scope from a bag at his side, training it on the constructs rampaging through their fields.
He grimaces; “I’ve never seen them act this way, they’re scanning so carefully,” while passing the scope to Preen who brings it to his eye.
The constructs are combing through the fields now, occasionally doubling back after one alerts the others to something it found. Their spindly limbs dig through the stalks of grain, searching and stabbing into suspect mounds of plant matter. Every once in a while, a construct strobes through several colors seemingly at random before several of them converge on the strobing one and a scream of pain echoes out.
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“Yeah, this is new,” Preen agrees. “I’ve never seen them sweep for survivors like that. It has to be a codex rewrite.”
“We need to let the captain know,” Retisin adds.
Two more forms gather with Preen and Retisin, crouching low as they thumb their staffs. The four of them have not known each other for more than 2 years but after all they’ve been through would gladly lay down their life for any of their comrades in arms.
The older one, Maracles, scowls at what he sees before him, "They've been acting strange since we entered this valley."
"How so?" his student Loffin asks, unsheathing her weapon.
"It's their patrols," Maracles explains, "We've only seen about half the normal constructs on patrol, now we know where the rest have gone off to."
As another group of two join, Preen purses his lips and rises off the ground. "Everyone's here now, let's put a stop to them."
They all finish their preparations, some uncorking glass containers on their hips and coating their bladed weapons with the liquid inside. Others go over the mechanisms with small streams of magic in their long range weaponry, ensuring their mana cell reserves are topped off before nodding towards Preen and Retisin.
“Maracles, take Loffin and secure the tunnel exit,” Preen commands, “Retisin and I are with Dane and Hake to rescue as many civilians as we can.”
Maracles nods as he and his apprentice turn around and make their way back into the treeline.
The remaining group shares a look of grim determination as they rise in twos, staggering their approach on the constructs rampaging through their fields.