Their metal bones were held together with screws and nuts and gnarled bits of mummified sinew.
Rubbery, pale gray, synthetic muscle covered bones and on top of that, lay rags, and wispy balls of cobweb and dust. Within their chests beat clockwork hearts, things of moving gears and cogs, powered by magic and something slightly more sinister.
Their faces were hidden, covered with plastic masks, on which a single word was written. ‘Sinner’. A gloomy, sharp red, light appearing from somewhere deep within their stainless steel skulls. These were the creatures called steel-supplicants, these were the most numerous denizens of Steel Polis Nihil.
Usually if you passed them in hall you’d find them either lying flat as if dead. Either that or they’d be prostrate, or kneeling, their hands brought together in prayer. They were harmless, until they weren’t harmless. Meek, cowering in the shadows, pulling back from the approaching parties.
It was perfectly fine to ignore them. At least until it suddenly wasn’t. Something would happen, something would set them off and then they come in mass. Shrieking, their screams sounding like the squeaks, beeps and static filled squeals of a tortured radio.
*****
“Shit, we’ve got a big mob heading our way…” said one practitioner to his fellow. His grip on his sword growing tighter. His complexion made pale by the cold and the unease he was feeling.
“What? Really? I thought they were just all happy to see us. Y’know, coming out in mass to welcome us with open hands.”
“Oi, shut the fuck up, you two. Focus. I promised your pa I’d get you two out in one piece but I didn’t say which piece.” said a burly man with an enchanted pickaxe on his shoulder.
The mob came, flooding the area. A group of more than a hundred shrieking metal ghouls. The supplicants were accompanied with modified creatures that had somehow been brought in from the outside.
Wizened demonbeasts that had been made stronger and more ferocious by the glowing, gleaming bits of machinery that had been attached to their flesh.
Once again, strategy became the first casualty of war. Whatever plans the labyrinth raiders had been making were lost. Knocked loose and trampled to death the very moment that mob of more than three hundred, third and fourth layer, steel-supplicants and modified-demonbeasts slammed into them.
If anyone remembered the people who’d been sent ahead to scout and kite, it would be long after this was over. And long after any missing faces had already been assumed for dead.
Right now there were more pressing concerns like coping with ionized breath cannon that a certain iron-jawed wild dog was spraying into the crowd. Completely incinerating the unprepared and badly wounding those who couldn’t completely dodge or block the attack.
Jermaine of the Thousand Ghosts stepped forwards wearing the gray and purple opera mask of Thespian Gray. Dark colorful wisps of magic gathering in his hands as he tried to lighten the load that was on his men.
Fanciful hands of iridescent light appeared where he willed them. Turning into fists to stomp down groups of the attackers. Or simply snatching up lone enemies and squeezing them into balls of crumpled metal and pulp.
He’d just barely reached a point where he thought his men could handle things when they all heard that sound they’d learn to loathe and fear. That deep agonized groan that came from somewhere within the heart of tower.
“What the fuck!? It’s too soon!” said Tangent, who stood fighting alongside his boss. Using spikes of sharpened shadow to gradually push the mob back.
“Well yeah… but it looks this damn labyrinth is gonna cheat. Oh well, we’re used to people trying to get the leg up on us aren’t we boys?” said Thespian Gray. Speaking up last the moaning critically damage the one thing the ghosts had going for them. Wounding the morale and high spirits that had allowed them to keep up with the other big boys.
“Hell yeah!”
“Yessir!”
“Fuck yes!”
Thespian Gray chuckled, stepping forwards, crackling his knuckles in an exaggerated manner. Making sure his every action advertised an absolute and unquestionable confidence.
The purple and gray mask serving to hide any doubts or fears he’d felt while he watched the area be filled with a chilling mist and what was by now, an all too familiar blue flash.
There was a crash, and an eruption of dust and gravel, a massive sphere dropped from out of thin air. Crushing, any supplicants and demonbeasts that happened to be in its way. Thespian Gray couldn’t help the bitter chuckle that escaped him.The fact that mobs numbers had been drastically thinned, was meagre consolation for what would be coming next.
The newly spawned orb, cracked like an egg and out from the egg emerged a creature that was built like a top. Its head arms, and torso made up a mishmash of gears and screws. The assorted pieces held in place by an aetheric magnetism and centrifugal force.
The creature’s first move removed the remainder of the mob, the creatures second move killed half of their forces on the floor. It mowed through the crowd, turning flesh to mulch. Spewing blood and sparks as it ate through the party.
The Thespian had no choice but to throw himself in the monstrosities way. He couldn’t let the meatgrinder-esque contraption just eat its way through his boy. An illusory wall appearing to isolate the creature from the crowd and push it back. He’d almost managed to knock it half way across the room, when it turned around and shot its larger arm at him like an arrow.
Jermain tried to stop the projectile but the weighty mass crashed right through his solidified illusions. He was forced to use a good old fashion blow from the cane he always carried. The cane just barely managing to knock the massive screw back in the opposite direction.
Before Thespian Gray was allowed some much as a sigh of relief the creature came charging right at him. Thespian Gray, brought up a thick wall of iridescent light and a cadre of glowing limbs, using them as a buffer to keep the whirring teeth that made up most of the creature’s body from grinding him up while he tried to push it back.
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An illusion shattered and he felt a sharp, agonizing pain and then numbness, the adrenaline keeping him from properly noting the loss of his arm. It was only when the blood loss started kicking in and making him weaken, that realized what had even happened.
Tangent chimed in with some support fire, sending out a salvo of explosive shadow. The creature reacting by firing its other arm in his direction. There were screams of pain and dismay but Thespian Gray was unable to see to his people’s status. He was too busy facing off against the beast directly.
Just as Jermaine thought he was nearing the end of his rope something flew over his head and hit the creature like a comet strike. He recognized the Tyrant Queen wearing her new shiny gold mask. A feral grin spreading across his face as she used that monstrous strength of hers to knock the creature all the way across the room.
The grin became a grimace as he once again despaired over the fact that he’d been unable to talk her into staying with the Thousand Ghosts. He respected her decision, but he’d miss having a powerhouse like her on his team.
“Duck!” shouted a voice.
Elena, the Tyrant Queen, leapt away from her new dancing partner. Jermaine followed her cue and dropped to the ground. Then a bright streak crossed the room and collided with the creature.
It came as beam that smelled of ozone and melting metal, remaining on the creature keeping it pinned in place till there was only molten slag remaining.
There was another groan from the labyrinth but this time it put smiles on all their faces. By clearing all the floors security measures they’d one right to break through to the next floor.
“Oh...hells yeah, baby. That’s what I’m talking about.” said one of the ghosts.
Jermaine just smiled, staggering, putting all his energy into remaining on his feet because a man like him couldn’t do something so uncool, like falling right after a hard fight. ‘He’, was supposed to make everything he did look effortless.
He took a step back and knocked into someone. He turned around and saw the ever silent and elusive, Nine-Eyed Asphodel.
“Where the hell were you?” he asked, more curious than anything else. Asides from knowing that the man was a triple threat as a magician, an alchemist, artificer and enchanter, Jermaine knew next to nothing about him.
The most he’d seen him do, was to throw up some wards one time when they were entrenched in a particularly hectic floor. He left the fighting to the two female practitioners.
“Nh….Holding the rear as usual.”
“Hmph..”
Jermaine might have complained about whether it was worth inviting them here, but besides the timely aid two female practitioners, the bottle and replacement cane that Billy was holding more than made up for any complaints he might have had.
*****
*Tick-Tock*
*Tick-Tock*
Being inside the steel city of twisted shadows was troublingly like being inside the world’s biggest collection of clocks. The cadence of the unseen mechanisms shifting in tempo and volume at random intervals so you never quite got used to the sound.
Billy watched Jermaine drink the regenerative potion. Finding some mild amusement in watching his exaggerated grimace.
“First there’s the bitterness and then there’s the itchiness...I don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to this shit.” grumbled Jermaine.
“At least you still get your jerking off arm back, Jerry.” said Elena. Chiming in, from where she lay. Catching her breath and recovering from her exertions.
“Tch, keep the sleep talk for when you’re asleep, girl.” said Jermaine.
He looked at his men and was relieved to find that the losses weren’t as bad as he’d thought. The back wall was red from blood and rust and everyone looked plainly exhausted. There were still far too many of the faces he’d come up to this floor with, missing, however the numbers weren’t outright catastrophic.
“Yo, you still alive Matty-boy?!” said Jermaine, calling out for one of the oldest and most trusted of his lieutenants.
“Y-, yessir.”
Was the weak reply. Matthew sat in a heap, stoically waiting for a new lower body to grow into place. Gritting his teeth as watched new flesh and bone, slowly inch its way out of his torso.
“Good...Good. Let’s head downstairs, kids. Daddy, needs a breather.” said Jermaine. Leading his portion of raid party, which was made up of the Thousand Ghosts and their allies and heading back to the third floor.
They descended through the floors of the labyrinth, with those who were still too wounded to walk being carried by their compatriots. It was slow painful going. However it would have been too much wishful thinking to imagine that the ancients or whoever it was, that was behind this place, would make traversing floors more convenient for future grave robbers and trespassers.
Fortunately the floors remained abandoned once you cleared them and eventually they ‘did’ reach their destination.
“Hello, hello, hello. Welcome to the safezone, kids.” said Raid Supervisor Arold.
He and his people had followed the various members of the party as support staff. Helping with organizational aspect of things and establishing a sort of base town every time they reached a benchmark floor.
*****
Edna walked with her people in the Bone Tree Company, tired and feeling slightly self-conscious. There was still a part of her that always felt out of place, in situations like this. Very aware that little more than a year ago she’d still been just a maid working in the Maddoc Chateau. She felt like a bullshitter amongst bullshitters, like a kid playing a very high stakes game of pretend.
On this floor there was food and drink and a few enterprising merchants had seen fit to set up markets with their ‘surplus’ supplies. For most the base town, was a cherry and often welcome sight after a hard day’s climb. Edna was no different. However down here, there was a tension of a different sort.
If you looked around you’d notice that everyone had sort of split off into their own groups. In hindsight it was inevitable.After all, she’d known from Billy’s research that pretty much everyone here was working in the interests of some backer or the other. She’d just assumed that while they were all supposed to be here working together, they’d try playing nice.
Imagine her surprise when she found out that playing nice just amounted to not actively trying to kill each other. At the very least it made for the gravest sort of disappointment.
“Hey...Billy, he’s doing it again...Are you sure this isn’t something that I should worry about?” said Edna.
Unable to help noting that the leader of the church’s camp seemed to be giving them the stink-eye again. Edna was never very religious to begin with, distancing herself from the faith after what happened with her family. Still there was no denying the church’s influence. It boded ill to have one of their up-an-ups giving them bad looks.
“Nh...Yeah.” said Billy.
Pointedly avoiding so much as looking in young Ludwik’s direction.
On Billy’s end, he genuinely had no clue what was up with the young prodigy. He might have supposed that his dark nature was being mistaken for an infernal one. However that wasn’t the case, save for his obvious genetic anomalies, there was nothing, physically or metaphysically, making him stand out as non-human.
Nothing, he wasn’t fairly sure was well hidden, anyway.
“Nh...If it turns into a problem I’ll just deal with it the usual way.”
“The usual way?” said Edna. Her tone skeptical.
“You know, Ed. The usual way!”
Elena butted her way into the conversation, high-spirited as usual now that she’d recovered and caught her second wind for the day.
Sticking her tongue out, crossing her eyes and making a gristly gurgling noise as she drew her thumb across her throat.
Edna frowned.
“I don’t know...People who pick fights with the church generally don’t last long.”
“Sure they don’t...In that case all we have to do is make sure it’s less a fight and more an extermination. The folks with the white robes don’t make a habit of picking fights they don’t think they’ll win.” said Elena. Her tone carefree, though her words carried along louder than Edna would have liked. Gathering a few frowns from the people on the church’s side and a few chuckles from everyone else. With Edna getting a worrying impression that most of those chuckles were at ‘their’ expense.
Edna turned to Billy, who just shrugged.
“Nh….She has a point. Besides, this is all assuming, that they don’t just want to be friends. Or that we ‘have’ to fight. Perhaps they merely want something. Perhaps that something is something we can give. And even if they do want to fight...do you we necessarily have to lose? I think you’re underestimating your own strength Edna.” said Billy. His tone dispassionate and unconcerned, despite how he too would occasionally glance at the crowd in white.
Edna looked over her shoulder and saw Ludwik and his people no longer glaring at them, with the main man himself still occasionally glancing in their direction. The change far from reassuring.
In the end she just shook her head and sighed, choosing to look elsewhere.
“You know what? You were right....Let’s just let sleeping dogs lie and hope for the best. Worst case scenario, somehow I think the three of us will manage.” she said.
Surprised to find that she actually believed her words. The bluff becoming a firm if quietly held conviction just as soon as it came out of her mouth.