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Small Chests Are Fine Too
On the Shoulders of Giants 2

On the Shoulders of Giants 2

Building a sludge-thrower really wouldn’t be that difficult for Fizzy. She had the schematics more or less worked out in her head before the group had even returned to the Landing Site. She also had plenty of materials on hand to build it thanks to all that stuff she salvaged and the bits and pieces the golem managed to take from the Vault. Tools were a bit of an issue, but the golem had an idea about solving that issue. All in all the only thing she needed was several hours of work and Orrin’s cooperation. There were a lot of bugs around that forest, and the group would need both an appropriate amount of goo and a sufficiently large container to hold it all. It was too much volume for a gnome-sized golem to handle, but the giant’s back would serve nicely.

However, it would appear Fizzy might have to rethink her plans and designs as the group approached the Landing Site. Orrin suddenly collapsed to all fours, plunging the area in darkness as he dropped his staff. He coughed harshly a few times before vomiting up what little was left in his stomach, then started wheezing like an old lady.

“What’s the matter, meatbag? You sick or something?”

Fizzy’s tone was flat and factual, as if asking for the weather. Ever the optimist, Orrin chose to believe there was genuine concern hidden behind that metallic drone. The giant grasped his staff and used it as a walking stick to prop himself back up to his feet, the illusory sun reappearing as he did so. The sudden onset of dizziness and nausea had passed, but he still felt weak from throwing up. Weaker, actually. Whatever caused that episode was likely the same thing that had slowly been sapping his strength ever since he arrived here. He didn’t know what the cause was for sure, but he could make an educated guess.

“Aye. I seem to have caught a strange disease,” was his assumption. “I believe Tony might have it as well.”

“Ah? Wha’chu talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Do you not feel ill?”

“Eh… maybe,” the hob shrugged. “Dunno if I’m sick or dis just de moon mojo messin’ with me.”

“You’re a Priest. Can’t you just magic it away?” Fizzy pointed out.

“Indeed I can.”

“So why haven’t you?”

Judging by the giant’s tone, this had been going on for a while now.

“I was hoping my body could fight it off naturally, but it appears I will not have that luxury. That being the case… Greater Cleanse!”

A wave of golden light erupted from Orrin’s staff, dousing everything within ten meters in its radiance. The giant instantly felt stronger as the magic purged whatever sickness had taken hold of him. His face also regained a bit of the color it had lost over the past several hours. The same was true with Tony, though it wasn’t as visible. He didn’t want to admit it, but the big guy had been right about him being ill as well. On the upside, the disease didn’t affect him as much as it did the giant despite the hob’s smaller frame, which gave him a small measure of satisfaction.

“All better!” Orrin merrily declared. “Repeated infections are likely, but also just as simple to deal with.”

“Good. Now get a move on,” Fizzy demanded. “I have work to do.”

“Enough to get some sleep?” the greenskin asked hopefully.

“Should take three hours at least, so yes, sure.”

“Nice.”

“A nap does sound lively,” Orrin agreed, “though I must regretfully request that I partake of Tony’s… catch.”

“You what now?” the hob raised an eyebrow.

“He’s saying he wants some of your bug meat,” Fizzy clarified.

“Too bad. I told him I ain’t sharin.’”

“And I’m telling you that you are, unless you want to be choking on your own balls.”

“… Whatever.”

Tony really wanted to question why a golem was so obsessed with testicular manslaughter, but decided to just drop the subject and do what she said. When the group got back to the Landing Site, the hobgoblin split off what seemed to be the best bits and kept them for himself, leaving Orrin with a huge amount of leftovers. The giant was then surprised to find that the ‘bug meat’ was significantly more palatable than he first assumed. Despite its looks and origins, moon-roach meat tasted a lot like chicken, just goopier. That flavor was the main reason why Tony didn’t want to share it. To a hobgoblin like him, that was basically a delicacy.

With the matter of grumbling bellies and parched throats momentarily settled, the Priest and the Shaman settled in for some long overdue sleep while Fizzy worked her Artificer magic. She didn’t start with the sludge-thrower, though. That device was both simple and time-consuming to build, making it the tinkering equivalent of stacking bricks. The golem would get around to it eventually, but first wanted to take on something a bit more stimulating. Namely, repairing the worn-down multi-tool she got out of the Vault. Not only would it provide a suitable challenge to warm up her engineering muscles, but was also going to be quite useful going forward.

Except that the little thing proved a tougher nut to crack than she first assumed. It was currently stuck in the form of a screwdriver with an extra-thick handle. One side of the grip could be popped open to reveal a bunch of small switches that, as best Fizzy could figure, were used to configure what form the business end of the instrument would take. Afterwards it took her the better part of half an hour to get the casing open without breaking the damn thing. The interior was filled to the brim with an assembly of metal strips, springs, and sprockets. Even her maxed-out Clockwork Expertise Skill struggled to make sense of it, but she figured it out eventually. Simply put, the mechanism was designed to reassemble its internal components into a particular tool, which would then pop out of the handle handle. Once Fizzy understood its function, it wasn’t difficult to identify the worn bits and restore them with her magic touch. The drained battery was a lost cause, but she managed to salvage an identical one from some burnt-out measurement device she found lying around the Landing Site. She slotted it in, closed it all up, and switched the thing on.

The multi-tool clicked and buzzed to life, quietly announcing Fizzy’s success.

“Alright!” she yelled in triumph.

“Nice one!” Plus cheered her on. “So, what’s it do?”

“Let’s find out!”

She immediately started fiddling with the controls and trying out all the options. The refurbished instrument proved itself capable of transforming into a screwdriver, a wrench, a wire cutter, a knife, a set of pliers, and a welder. Most of those had adjustable sizes, though all of them were so small that they weren’t much use for large scale projects. They were much better suited to precise and delicate work, which was just fine as far as Fizzy was concerned. Better than fine. In fact, she couldn’t wait to put the multi-tool to use and immediately started thinking up ways to expand her arsenal of gadgets. Her first thought was to make new types of ammo for her grenade launcher. Cartridges filled with the glowing blue sludge were an obvious choice, but there was also some explosive putty lying around the Landing Site - leftovers from demolition work, most likely. She worked out how to fashion it into a sticky bomb that attached to its target and delivered all of its force directly into it via shaped charge.

That kind of stuff was easy, though. Taking old materials the Original Artificer left behind and sticking them in a grenade wasn’t exactly fulfilling. Fizzy’s fingers itched to make something a bit more original, something she could truly call her own. To that end, she turned her attention to her destroyed charge pack and checked what parts of it were salvageable. Most of it was fried beyond salvation, but its power source and the surrounding circuitry were more or less intact. Fizzy repurposed these bits along with whatever materials she had on hand to fashion an energy converter that turned mana into an electric current. She then built a compact motor to turn that juice into force. The Artificer wasn’t sure where she was heading with this at first, but the challenge of making do with whatever scrap she managed to dig up served to inspire her. Before she even knew it, an idea had formed in her head and her full focus had been dedicated to realizing it. She got so engrossed in her work that she completely lost track of time.

“Greater Cleanse!”

The sound of Orrin’s Spell pulled Fizzy out of her own little world and back into reality. She looked around the old shack she’d converted into a workshop in a dazed stupor as she was suddenly reminded of her circumstances. Normally she’d be pissed about this disruption, but she was basically done and was only putting in finishing touches. One of those was to try her luck at a third Upgrade. This Artificer Skill was used to channel a lump of magic into a device and augment it - sometimes for the worse, hopefully for the better. Her first two attempts had been a mixed bag, one marginally lowering its power output and the other slightly reducing its heat generation. She could only use the Skill a limited number of times per item, so this third roll of the dice would be her last. She hesitated a bit due to her creation’s sentimental value, but decided to go through with it anyway.

“Upgrade!”

A jolt of crackling energy surged out of her palm and into the handle it was gripping. It briefly enveloped the enormous red wrench, settling around the new additions around its business end before disappearing.

Your Upgrade was a minor success!

Iron Teeth MP consumption reduced by 10%.

Well, it was something. Fizzy gave her modified weapon a few trial swings to get a feel for it. It had a bit more weight towards the tip since that was where she’d attached the mana converter and electric motor she had been working on. Both were of robust and basic design, designed to survive being thrashed against meatbags, walls, and anything else that stood in her way. They were also quite compact, fitting nicely underneath the comically oversized monkey wrench’s adjustable tip as two fist-sized boxes with a bunch of wires and cables sticking out. These were also connected to a small trigger lever near the handle, allowing Fizzy to easily operate the mechanism in combat. As for what this upgrade did, she really felt it warranted a bit of a demonstration that was sure to elicit praise and awe from her companions.

“Hey, meatbags!”

The golem triumphantly emerged from her improvised workshop, her creation hoisted up for them to see. Orrin and Tony were seated around what was left of yesterday’s slain moon-roach, trying to scrape up a bit of breakfast. Their attention was inevitably drawn towards the crazy, shiny, yet tiny woman waving around an impractically large tool. Seeing that she had captured their interest, Fizzy immediately proceeded with the show-off-and-tell.

“Check this out!”

She flicked the switch on her monkey wrench, prompting its new motor to instantly open its steel jaw as wide as it would go with a clear clunk. The golem then placed this opening over the safety rail of the short staircase leading up to her elevated shack. She flipped the lever in the opposite direction, causing the wrench to tighten its grip with such force that it crushed and practically bit through the iron piping with a loud crunch. Another flick saw it snap open once more, ready to crush anything that fit in its maw. Which, given the size of the bloody thing, could easily be an arm, a leg, or perhaps even a skull. It really came as no surprise that ‘Iron Teeth’ was the name Fizzy’s subconscious imparted upon her new Masterwork-quality magic item upon its creation.

However, while the golem was quite pleased with herself, neither the giant nor the goblin were all that impressed.

“That’s quite the thing,” Orrin spoke first, “though I fail to see how this will help us fend off the moon-roaches in the forest.”

“… Oh. Right.”

Fizzy had completely forgotten what it was that she was supposed to be doing all this time. After checking in with her Tick Counter, she realized she had just spent close to eight hours on a project that was entirely unrelated to the problem at hand. It really would be quite embarrassing if she had any sense of shame left.

“Guess I got a bit carried away,” the golem shrugged. “Sit tight, I won’t be much longer.”

Indeed, now that her tinkering muscles were warmed up, it only took her an hour to assemble that sludge-thrower. It really was just four of those lead barrels bolted onto a carrier frame, a hose linking them to a handheld nozzle, and a battery-powered pump to facilitate optimal spraying. The whole thing was sized for a giant and weighed so much that even the mountain of muscle called Orrin could scarcely carry it all the way to that forest. The containers were the worst part, and the back-mounted frame Fizzy had designed for them was superbly uncomfortable. So, after a bit of feedback, the golem gave in and altered it a bit along with throwing together a trolley to ease long-distance transportation. Thankfully the surrounding terrain was relatively flat and hard so the wheeled push-cart wouldn’t run into much trouble navigating it.

Preparations done, the group went up to the surface once more. The sun was out by then, bathing both the land and the sky in different shades of pale green. The heat was also on the rise, and was arguably worse than the cold of night. Orrin had magic to warm himself and Tony up, but nothing to do the opposite. Speaking of which, the Priest discovered that the disease from yesterday had taken hold of them once again by the time they woke up. He expected as much, and cleansed it without much thought. He’d probably have to do that once or twice a day, but it was remarkably easy since the MP he spent on the Spell would just come back in less than a minute. It would only be a problem if severe starvation or dehydration left his body unable to replenish its magical energy, which was a very real threat given the desert-like environment they had arrived in.

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After a physically and mentally straining three hour trek, the group once again approached the grasslands with the forest beyond them. It wasn’t even remotely the same area they were in last night, though it certainly looked like it. The giant grunted with effort as he donned Fizzy’s equipment, then chanted his usual array of blessings. Meanwhile Tony armed himself and devoted most of his attention to his Tremorsense ability, just in case the bugs decided to try and ambush them from below again. As for the golem, she was eager to test out her new toys on some unwilling subjects. She took point with her wrench in one hand and grenade launcher in the other, ready to commit science upon the first moon-roach she saw. And yet, as the group carefully tread forward, Fizzy was steadily overcome by a slightly disappointing realization.

“They’re not coming, are they?”

Indeed, there were no signs of bugs aside from the strange emerald-shelled beetles that buzzed around between the blades of tall grass.

“Ya know, de bugs might be… what’s de word… night-crawlers,” Tony suggested.

“Do you mean nocturnal?” Orrin inquired.

“Is dat when dey sleep during the day?”

“Yes.”

“Den yes, dat.”

“Great. Just great!” the golem threw her hands up in frustration. “All that work and effort for nothing!”

Granted, it wasn’t much work or effort on her part, but it was still time and energy she could’ve used on other things. Like designing her new maker’s mark and engraving it on her wrench. It was what she was going to do just before Orrin snapped out of her tinkering trance earlier that morning.

“Hahaha!” the culprit laughed merrily. “Worry not, my glistening friend! I am sure this land will hold other challenges to test your mettle against.”

“We about to have a whole lotta dat if you two don’t shut up,” Tony spoke harshly. “De bugs may be sleepin,’ but dat won’t last if keep yellin’ like dat.”

The giant smiled and nodded to show he understood, but the golem was far less amicable. She really wanted to deck Tony in the gut for speaking to her like that, but ultimately agreed he had a point. Common sense among adventurers dictated that the best type of fight was the one that didn’t happen. This was especially true of forays into the unknown, and a forest on the damned moon was about as ‘unknown’ as things could get. Approaching said treeline revealed a few things of interest. Firstly, there was non-insectoid wildlife on Tascuna. There were a number of colorful birds in the air, both big and small, and Tony found fresh tracks of a hoofed animal. Eager to sink his teeth into some real meat, the hobgoblin got permission from Fizzy to stalk and hunt the beast, provided he caught up with the others afterwards.

As the hob ran off to chase his next meal, Orrin had himself a look at the trees themselves. They had bark and branches and leaves like one would expect, though the exact species was unlike any the giant had seen. The plants were quite tall and narrow, with thin foliage that did little to provide any shade. Upon grabbing a branch and bending it he also discovered they were surprisingly flexible, almost like rubber. Giving the trunk a slap and watching it wobble and bend was quite humorous, though it did also shake something loose. The hard, spherical object bonked the giant on the head before landing on the ground near him with a thud. Leaning down to pick it up, he found it was a semi-transparent orb that was a little larger than a human head. It had a good deal of heft to it and a hard shell that looked to be dried resin with a blue hue to it. Shaking it a bit elicited some slight sloshing that suggested its contents were liquid in nature.

“Hey, Fizzy? I think I found some type of fruit.”

“Oh?” the golem looked over. “Huh. That’s… something.”

“I hope it’s safe to eat. Or drink, I should say. Perhaps Tony might know?”

“If any of us do, it’ll be him. Might as well get a bunch, just in case they prove useful.”

“Good idea.”

The giant proceeded to shake every tree he went past as he followed the Paladin deeper into the woods. Not all of them had these orb-fruits, or at least not ones big and heavy enough to fall with a jostle. At least there were plenty of trunks to bump into since the forest gradually grew denser. After about twenty minutes of walking Orrin had collected six more of the things. Their sizes and coloration varied slightly, but they were largely similar to the first. He stuck all of those in his Bag of Holding. He wished he could do the same with the contraption on his back, but it was far too large to fit in the container’s mouth. For now he silently bore the weight and tried to enjoy the relatively cool breeze wafting through the forest. He then noticed a distinct smell in the air, something that really had no business here. The scent got progressively stronger with every step forward, to the point where he actively wondered why Fizzy hadn’t noticed it yet. He then remembered that his companion was a golem and therefore incapable of perceiving odors, so he informed her.

“Fizzy, I do believe I smell something burning.”

“Wait, what? Did Tony start a forest fire or something?”

The golem scanned the sky, but couldn’t see any smoke trails.

“I’m quite sure that isn’t the case. This stench, its very similar to burnt fuel, maybe from a rocket.”

“You… know what rocket fuel smells like?”

“Must I remind you where I live?”

“Ah. So, uh, where’s it coming from?”

“There, I think.”

The giant pointed slightly to the left of the direction they were already headed in. They adjusted their course and went to investigate. Orrin had no idea what to expect, but Fizzy was hoping they’d find some old piece of Original Artificer technology that was still kicking. With a bit of luck, it would provide some clues as to why Ekaterina Dragunova came to Tascuna and, more importantly, how she planned to get back. Things started looking up when the golem heard what sounded like the roar of an engine in the distance. Drawing closer to the disturbance revealed her suspicions were spot on. However, it also became evident that this machine was also moving around. Not a whole lot, but enough to make it clear it wasn’t keen on standing in one spot for more than a minute or so before relocating somewhere nearby.

Fizzy finally laid eyes on the thing as she climbed over a small ridge. It was a quadrupedal automaton in the rough shape and size of a centaur. Its left arm ended in a circular three-fingered grabby-claw while its right was fitted with a chainsaw. That power tool was the source of that loud buzzing and heavy exhaust fumes that led the golem and the giant to this place. It had also seen a good amount of work, given the several lengths of freshly cut timber loaded onto the automaton’s flat back. Its helmet-like head was focused on the next tree in front of it and as such had yet to notice the two intruders peeking over a small hill about fifty paces away.

“Huh. Well, now,” Fizzy spoke in a near-whisper. “That’s strange.”

*VRRRRRRRRRRRR*

The logging bot did as it was designed to and started cutting down a tree while Orrin pondered those painfully obvious words.

“I assume you mean something specific.”

“Well, I could be wrong, but that doesn’t look like it’s been here for ninety years.”

The segmented metal plates covering its body weren’t exactly new, but they were nowhere near as worn as the stuff back at the Landing Site. If anything this thing should have been in an even worse shape given that this forest was no doubt much more humid than the desolate crater. That wasn’t even mentioning all the dirt and sawdust that no doubt accumulated in its joints and vents as it went about its routine.

“I’m no expert on automata,” she continued, “but that thing can’t be more than a year old.”

“Okay, so?”

*VRRRRRR!*

“So, who built it?”

“Oh. Alright, I think I understand what you’re getting at.”

Fizzy was entertaining the idea that the Original Artificer was still alive up here on Tascuna and carrying on with her work and research. It was hardly impossible. Ekaterina Dragunova wasn’t just the Original Artificer, but also the only person to achieve Level 100 in the Job thus far. That meant she was a Ranker whose lifespan would be more or less double that of a normal human. If she was still alive, she’d probably still have a few decades left in her. That was a big ‘if,’ however. There were other, equally likely explanations for where this automaton came from. For instance, there might have been a Vault-like compound that spat out a dozen of these things a day. It was all rather baseless speculation and conjecture at this point, so the giant thought it better to focus on what was in front of him at that very moment.

*Vrrm! Vrrrm!*

“Perhaps we should follow it, see where its home is,” he suggested.

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

“I should warn you, stealth is not one of my strong points.”

*VRRRRRRRrrrrrr*

Fizzy watched silently as the automaton processed the tree it had cut down moments prior. She had been keeping an eye on it the whole time, studying its motions and movements. They were systematic, repetitive, and far from thorough. It was clearly following some pre-programmed directive and didn’t seem capable of adjusting it on the fly. In other words, it wasn’t intelligent or self-aware - just an insanely complicated wind-up doll doing what it was designed to do.

“We’ll be fine. It won’t even notice us so long as we don’t threaten it or get in its way.”

“You are certain?”

“Mostly. Let’s make sure.”

Fizzy pulled herself over the top of the ridge and waved her bright red wrench in the air, then shouted.

“Hey! Over here, ya lumber-jack-off!”

There was no reaction from the automaton as it loaded the freshly cut and pruned log onto its back. The golem turned around and gave the giant a cocky grin.

“See? What did I tell you?”

“Point made,” he nodded. “Though, now that I think about it, I worry for your friend.”

“What do you mean?”

“It has been quite a while since we saw Tony. Was he not supposed to pick up our trail as soon as he was finished hunting?”

Indeed, before they separated, the hobgoblin assured Fizzy that tracking the two of them would be no issue. Anyone could do it with how deep and obvious the tracks of a giant and a golem were. The greenskin was also quite adamant his diversion would not take more than five or ten minutes, but it had already been almost half an hour since they last saw him. And now that she had stopped to consider his absence, Fizzy realized something. While she did tell her shield-serf to catch up with her, she failed to give him any kind of time limit for the collar to enforce. Therefore, it was entirely possible he took this opportunity to run away and take his chances with Tascuna’s wilderness. He was a monster, after all, so he himself would always be number one on his own priority list. In all honesty, the only surprise here was that it didn’t happen sooner.

“He’s not worth your worry,” she told Orrin. “Focus on the task at hand.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

The two of them settled down behind the ridge, waiting patiently for the iron centaur to finish loading up on timber. It wouldn’t be long now since it could only fit so many of those narrow trunks on its flat back before they started falling off. About five minutes later, there was a new development. No, the thing wasn’t done just yet. Nor would it get the chance to finish its work as something else entirely rapidly approached the scene. There was a whole lot of squealing, grunting, and stomping making its way towards Fizzy and Orrin from the same direction they came from. They could even see the treetops shake and shiver as whatever that was rampaged through the forest.

And when they finally laid eyes on it, the golem sorely wished that Tony had indeed ran off. Because he was headed right for them, with an enormous spike-covered boar-like creature hot on his heels. Fizzy frantically waved her arms and shook her head as if to say, ‘Don’t bring that thing here, you idiot!’ Her efforts at non-verbal communication fell on blind eyes as the hobgoblin ran right past her and Orrin and into the clearing. The beast followed in hot pursuit, forcing the golem and the giant to scatter to the sides lest they get trampled. Naturally, the automaton did not fail to notice a disturbance of such a magnitude hurtling towards its general direction. The mechanical centaur took one look at the developing situation and took action. Its head split apart down the middle and opened up like a book. An antenna of some kind emerged from inside, and a white cone quickly unfolded around it. It was only when this device was pointed squarely at his face that Tony noticed the strange automaton. His instincts instantly flared at him that something big was coming. He tried to take a harsh turn to the side and dodge out of the way of the impending attack, but it was far, far too late.

An indescribably loud screech erupted from the machine. It was a sustained, high-pitched, ear-splitting noise that made the trees shake and the ground rumble. The hobgoblin instantly keeled over with hands on his ears, blood gushing from his eyes and nose. He screamed as well, though not even he could hear his voice. The spiked warthog took it a bit better in that it remained on its hooves, but it was left stomping in place in dazed confusion. About thirty meters behind them, Orrin was in much the same state as Tony, albeit with slightly less flailing. Fizzy was left completely unharmed, though not entirely unaffected. Her vision flickered and she struggled to move her limbs with any grace or precision. That made it immensely difficult to load and aim her grenade launcher, but she nevertheless tried. After fumbling with it for several seconds she tried her best to shut that cantankerous construct up with a shaped charge to the midsection. She missed and hit the massive hog instead. There was a flash of light and a shower of blood as the sticky bomb blasted a hole into its flank. The golem tried to take another shot but couldn’t make it in time before the sonic disruption worsened and left her arms paralyzed from the elbow down.

Thankfully the screeching automaton wasn’t designed to kill things, only suppress them. It did a wonderful job of keeping its targets incapacitated while its legs transformed into wheels and arms tucked inside its torso. It then zoomed off into the forest at a speed that simply could not be matched on foot. With the loudmouth gone, the others were given a chance to recover. The monstrous hog was the first to do so. Its enormous body was covered in wounds and blood, not just from the sonic assault and Fizzy’s explosive, but also from the hobgoblin it had been chasing. The creature therefore wisely decided to run off squealing before it got turned into stew. The golem regained the use of her limbs moments after the beast retreated whence it came. She could have given chase, but she had greener butts to fry.

The Paladin stomped over to where Tony was still writhing on the ground in shock and pain, and gave him a flash of her Holy Light. Much as she expected, the greenskin ceased his thrashing and regained his composure. Which was good, because she wanted him completely in control of his faculties for the monumental beatdown she was about to inflict upon the dumbass. She straddled his torso, grabbed him by that stupid scarf, pulled his face up to hers.

“What!”

*THUMP*

“The!”

*THUNK*

“Flying!”

*THUD*

“Fuck!”

She then proceeded to yell at him while slamming his skull into the ground between each word. Dazed and confused as he was, the hob offered only meager resistance and pained grunts in response to the cranial massage. Her initial outburst done, Fizzy lifted his face up to hers so she could yell at him point-blank.

“Why did you bring that thing here!?”

“Sorry, boss!” the hob immediately apologized. “I just didn’t wanna drag de thing through de forest! Is big! Is heavy! So I think, I let it bring itself, den we kill it and sort it out!”

Indeed, he could have very easily taken the monster down by himself. All Tony had to do was keep giving it the run around while chucking axes and Spells at it and he would win eventually. The only issue was that there was a lot of meat to harvest and transport for one guy, so he figured it best to bring the beast to the others before it became a corpse. Or at least, that was what he was getting at, but Fizzy wasn’t buying it.

“Do you think I’m stupid?!”

*THWACK*

She bashed his head against the ground once more before continuing.

“I know you dragged that thing over for shits and giggles! And because of you, our one good lead into what the fuck is going on here just zoomed off into the horizon!”

“Hey, hey!”

Orrin had just recovered from that terrible noise and ran over to try and placate the situation. He reached over to Fizzy, intending to pull her off before she crushed her companion for real.

“Leave him be, it was an honest- Yeow!”

His hand never even got close to her as the golem’s wrench intercepted it. Its motorized jaw instantly grabbed and tightened around the giant’s thumb. Fizzy then jerked the handle of her tool upwards, twisting the seized digit in a way that instantly brought the Priest to his knees. Though many times smaller, it was obvious the Paladin’s mechanical muscles were quite a bit more powerful than the Priest’s natural strength. All she needed was to apply that force with the right leverage, and Artificers were really good at that sort of thing. It also probably helped that the Priest had a huge load on his back.

“You stay out of this!” she growled at Orrin. “This is between me and this future bloodstain!”

She then turned back to Tony, who was immensely enjoying himself despite his predicament. As a hater of all things larger than himself, seeing that giant crumble like that was quite satisfying. His ‘future bloodstain’ status was less so, to say the least. Meeting her cold glare, he decided to drop the act and speak plainly.

“I didn’t see, okay? How was I s’posed to know you out here stalkin’ some bucket-head horse-man-thing over here?!”

Indeed, this entire thing was intended as a prank, just as Fizzy guessed. It was also why the hobgoblin didn’t notice the automaton sooner. He was too busy looking over his shoulder to see the others’ reaction. If he was aware of the situation, he probably wouldn’t have done any of this.

“Also, I got some good news,” he added.

“What?” she asked dryly.

“Looks like you gonna get a chance to test dat thing after all.”

He pointed at the kneeling giant. More specifically, at the huge tanks of glowing sludge he was carrying.

“About twenty chances, actually.”

That was how many inbound burrowing bugs his Tremorsense detected at that very moment.