Eight Era, cycle 1721, season of Unkh, day 223

It had been two days of climbing and twisting paths. Ember resented the downhills as much as the uphills, as they seemed to mock all the effort she’d put into getting up the hill. The sight of a guide rope was enough to make her heart sink as it signalled yet another challenging descent. The flats parts were a relief, even if the narrow tunnels could make them feel suffocating at time. Yet now the group was on the crest of another hill, and what was set out before them was like a canvas, smooth and wide, which signalled they’d returned to the main roads. It felt like the world had exploded out before them.

‘That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,’ Ember said falling down onto her knees.

‘That was certainly hard work; someone needs to clear it up a bit,’ Lyre declared.

‘What’s the time?’ Ember asked.

‘Around three,’ Alban replied.

‘O’clock?’ Ember queried with alarm in her voice.

‘Yes, why?’ Alban replied, unsure.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Ember stated.

*

The next day, Ember sat with her head on her knees after completing her morning yoga stretches, and she knew she wouldn’t make it any further. Her lower back was aching and her legs were throbbing; the muscles were literally twitching on their own, possibly from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) from the last few days.

‘How’re you feeling?’ Lyre asked, not showing any signs of aches or pains.

‘I can’t do this; I didn’t know how hard just walking was! I feel feeble; at first, it was a good pain like pinching your nipples when you’re aroused, but now it’s just pain pain,’ she explained.

Lyre held out a blue enamelled jar; its stopper was on a metal clip, which popped when it was released. ‘It’s water with an infusion of stamina rejuvenation; it’ll relive all your aches and pains. One portion every four hours, no more than three portions a day, and don’t take anything else that can increase your stamina whilst using this. This is only a mild potion and mostly water, unlike a real potion; however, if your body isn’t used to this kind of walking, then overdoing the hiking can have long-term repercussions: arthritis and such like.’

‘I know the drill; stamina potions only make you feel like you’ve been restored when, in actuality, your body is receiving damage continually, and if you take too many potions without giving your body time to recover, you can die from rebound fatigue. Also, potions can interact, so always be careful what potions you’re taking; I’ve been on missions before where I had to choose between which potions to take because I’ve had multiple potions that might be of use in completing my objective, but that also interact within the body and can deal some nasty consequences. It makes for rather subtle poisoning. Also, I’ve taken down more than one target by mixing normally harmless potions into drinks. Pour in resist-all magicka to a soupçon of resist-frost magicka and add a touch of increase vitality into someone’s mug of ale, and after their sixth dosed ale, take the lady or gentleman to bed. It used to be a popular one amongst the girls. Halfway through the night, the lady’s or gentlemen’s heart usually gives out, making it look like natural causes. A blue rinse, we used to call it; the boost to vitality increases the heart rate, making the poisonous interaction between the two magicka resists extra potent, and with the added benefit of giving the gentlemen a stonking erection to enjoy.’

‘That’s quite enough detail; there’s no need to Carpenter the point, right, boy?’ Lyre declared, holding up both hands.

‘Speaking of whom, how’s Clang holding up?’ Ember enquired.

‘Oh fine, fine. We dwarfs are hardy.’

Zyol kicked dirt over the fire as they prepared to move on, and Ennolk appeared out of the gloom a moment later; he was adept at stealth even compared to Ember.

‘We’ve got company; there’s a group of gearheads just ahead,’ Ennolk said.

There were some muttered words from the dwarfs, which Ember decided sounded like cursing.

‘What are gearheads?’ she questioned.

‘Metal golems,’ Alban confirmed.

The iron creatures seemed uninterested in the group when they came into view, but they seemed to be guarding the path ahead.

‘They’ll attack as soon as we try to walk past them,’ Alban stated for Ember’s benefit.

Race: metal golem

The metal golems are relics from an older age when steam power was all the rage and all sorts of automatous creations were being sold. It is not really known if the metal golems are intelligent to a degree or if they are just responding to millennia-old orders.

Genus: golemoid

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Golem-type creatures are made creations and have no method of reproduction of their own; even the sentient versions are not allowed to make more golems, only priests or similar may create them.

Class: C

Affiliation: unknown

Harvestable items: metals, gears, other stuff of that nature

State: none

Level: 12

Health unknown, stamina unknown, mana unknown

Additional: they are likely to be resistant to damage; they are great hulks of walking armour after all!

‘They’re only level 12,’ Ember announced.

‘That’s as maybe, but they’ll have around a 75% resistance to damage,’ Lyre responded.

The golems moved with methodical intent, and their metal bodies clanked and rung in deep, oppressive tones as they moved. A broadsword as thick as Ember’s waist swung down as soon as the group was in striking distance, and Zyol grunted as he blocked the attack.

Alban whispered something to his axe, then swung it like he was felling a tree and hit a golem on the knee. It staggered, but regained its balance, and swung a heavy backhand, which hit Alban on the side and sent him sprawling to the ground. The golem’s chest spun whilst its legs remained planted, and it looked down on Alban before raising a foot and bringing it down with an impact that vibrated in Ember’s diaphragm and narrowly missed Alban as he rolled away from the giant foot.

‘Look out!’ Ennolk called.

Something exploded against a golem and a green cloud plumed out. When the smoke cleared, thick roots entwined the armour, holding it tightly in place. Ember took the opportunity to summon an ice staff and whack the thing, but it had no effect on it. She threw herself to the ground instinctively as the golem’s sword cut through the air above her, giving her a sudden haircut and missing her neck by inches.

Rolling to her feet, Ember danced back as a second golem trudged towards her, swinging a sword some 5 feet long. Ember ducked it, then she tried to block the backswing of the sword with her ice staff and was thrown from her feet by the impact.

With a dexterity born from scampering across roof tops at night, Ember rolled as she fell and came up sweeping the staff, which – by pure luck – hit a golem on the base of the foot as it stepped forwards. The impact made the golem’s foot jerk to the side and it stepped down with its foot at an angle; there was a crunch, and the golem crashed to the ground where Flynn jumped on it, attempting to find something to bite. Ember darted forwards, swung the staff like a hockey stick and smashed the helmet from the armour with a burst of foul purple smoke, which sparked with white light. The cloud was acidic and caught in the back of the throat with a bitter, acrid taste. As the smoke dissipated, the armour broke apart at the joints and rolled harmlessly apart.

Meanwhile, Zyol attacked the first suit of armour whilst it was entwined in Ennolk’s trap, but the axe whacked off the golem doing nothing more than sending shockwaves up Zyol’s arms.

The third and last golem came for Lyre; the golem swung its sword, and Lyre jumped back. The golems were strong and resilient, but moved ponderously and predictably. The golem swung its sword, and Lyre blocked it, but the impact from the downwards swing brought Lyre down to his knees.

There was a shout and a burst of ice-blue light as something hit the golem on the side, and then fingers of frost crept over the armour. It brought its sword down to cut Lyre in half. The world seemed to slow down as Lyre watched his impending doom come closer. Somehow, Lyre was able to avoid the sword using what must have been super-dwarven agility, but then Lyre noticed that the world was, in fact, moving at normal speed, and that it was just the golem that had slowed. Ice coated it, and the metal screeched as the ice clogged the joints and gears of the golem.

A terrible ripping sound distracted Ember, who looked around and saw the first armour was freeing itself from the roots with sheer brute force, and once its sword was freed it was able to slice through the remaining tangle of roots. Its chest swivelled to face Ember, but, just then, Flynn pounced in a flurry of claws and teeth directed at the armour, which lifted its arm to ward off the terrapin. The golem swatted Flynn out of the air and took a step before swinging its sword at Ember.

Ember turned her hips and swung the staff as hard as she could, and once more blind luck came to her aid as the staff connected with the hilt of the sword and spun it out of the giant’s hand. The sword flew past Ember, and a blinding pain burned into her side. Ember screamed and fell to the floor, clutching her side as warm stickiness spread between her fingers.

Affliction: bleeding, -30 health points per second

The golem stepped forwards and grabbed her in a crushing grip, and Ember did the only thing she could think of – she fainted from the pain.

Ennolk rushed forwards, grabbed Ember’s fallen staff, and used its length to plunge the staff into the golem’s face and through the face guard. It staggered back as the staff smashed off the inside of the helmet, and it released Ember. Alban shouted, and Ennolk turned and watched Alban throw something, which Ennolk caught. Ennolk acted on instinct and jumped, pulling himself up by the staff still lodged in the helmet, and thrust the thing he’d caught through the visor of the golem.

Next, he dropped and ran, with his head bowed and knees bent, moments before a deafening explosion erupted from inside the golem.

Zyol turned to the side to see Flynn dragging the large sword over to him. Zyol ran over and grabbed it; it was heavy and awkward. The golem closed the gap and swung its sword; Zyol gave a battle cry, summoned all his strength to lift the sword with surprising speed and crushed the helmet of the golem before it had time to react. Purple smoke streamed out of the golem’s crumpled helmet, and the sword dropped from the golem’s hand as the golem fell to pieces.

‘Lyre, how’s Ember?’ Zyol asked, clenching and unclenching his hands as the adrenaline still flowed through him.

‘It’s a long gash, but it isn’t so deep, and I can’t smell faecal matter, so I think it missed the intestines. It’s nasty, though – not a clean cut but more of a tear; possibly, the pommel or hand guard struck her and not the blade. I’ve put a dressing on it that will close the wound, but I can’t do anything about tidying the skin, so it’ll leave a nasty scar. But it will have plenty of company,’ Lyre concluded.

‘I’ll need some more ingredients for bombs at the next market,’ Alban said checking his satchel.

‘It’s a good thing you made those silver stars; I think I might have to learn the art of potion-making after that little example,’ Ennolk declared with a laugh.