The Modron Mutiny

Chapter Ten

Deception

The fight Dolidra had seen left her chilled. Though it was brief, watching Hein and the others fight those symmetrical monsters had shaken her. When this all started, Dolidra was doubtful of an alleged modron invasion. She hadn’t stayed in Automata long, but Dolidra knew that the word “invade” did not belong on the lips of any of its citizens. She had thought that Hein simply made an error, that a group of rogue modrons somehow found a powerful patron and were going to a misplaced Pillar of Law.

She was seeing firsthand how she was wrong.

Dolidra had learned Hein was right, obviously, but the symmetrical monstrosities she saw on a scrying stone could have been demonic corruption. Everything could have been something else without proof. She figured Hein could have been right when the modrons said chants and did what he said. Hein had lived with Symmette for too long, to the point his judgment was clouded.

“Dolidra? Dolidra, can you hear me?”

As the device on her wrist chimed, Dolidra covered it tight with her hand. Beads of sweat were dripping down her face. Despite the sting the sweat caused in her eyes, she couldn’t look away from what she was seeing. Dolidra always wanted solid proof, and didn’t like to assume anything without evidence. Seeing modrons bow to a statue of the former Magistrate of Mortals just cemented it.

Ailia Symmette was insane, even by Automatan standards. Dolidra, however, couldn’t imagine her actually attacking the Prime. Dolidra was staring at an army of boxes worshipping a Symmette statue. During her fall, she had managed to swim aboard and hide on a damaged ship. No one was inside, but being discovered was not her only concern.

Engineer Spigot was attempting to scout the top of the tower in his balloon, when it started shooting fireballs. Thankfully they weren’t spell fireballs, but the balloon had gone down. Dolidra had left Hein’s command center to go get him. It was a borderline miracle she didn’t run into the modron army, but once they were reunited, another one of the fireballs shot the side of the tower Spigot had landed on. He managed to shield himself with some kind of magic, that or strange tech, but was still launched with Dolidra into the sea.

Whatever Spigot did to protect himself must have made him lighter, because he went much farther than Dolidra. She hadn’t wanted to tell Hein about this, as he was a little more than busy. Dolidra did want to help him, and did understand the risks of staying, but she really though Hein’s army could decimate one made of rogue modrons. She didn’t really think Symmette had gone rogue too.

When Hein had assembled the engineers to the tower, he made one thing very clear. None had to stay when the modrons arrived. Hein had measures in place for everyone to get out. To Dolidra’s knowledge, all of the ships got out when the field went down. The modrons didn’t want to attack the ships, and the tower didn’t shoot any of them.

The people Hein had gotten to study the tower didn’t want to risk their lives over it. Only a few of these people knew what kind of threat Hein’s alleged invasion posed to Faerun. Dolidra knew seven people wanted to stay to help monitor the modron invasion. Spigot, like her, wanted to stay. Dolidra felt like it was her duty. She was the only person here who knew about Automata. As Dolidra gazed out to the strange scene, she couldn’t stop thinking one thing.

How did this all happen? Automata had that robotic guard, the thing that was some special inevitable. Why hadn’t it stopped all of this?

From Dolidra’s hiding place, she tried to whisper to Hein. The modrons were clearly too busy to bother with her.

“I’m sorry, I’m pinned down. Spigot was in trouble, had to save him, tower shot us both. I’m fine but he’s missing. Please don’t speak they may hear…” Dolidra whispered at her wrist.

There was silence for a moment, then a very slight response. The whisper was softer than hers.

“Location?”

“Outside the tower in a docked ship. Many, many enemies at entrance.” Dolidra replied.

“…shit.” The whisper responded.

“If you hear nothing but a tap, take it as a signal that I cannot speak. If I am in actual danger, I will shout for help. I understand if you can’t teleport me out. Saving our world is the priority after all but…”

Dolidra didn’t finish. She tapped the wrist device twice, then ducked. A modron had spotted her.

The box things ran at the boat, a pair on each side of the path with four in total, running to the boat. Once they stepped onto the deck, she would be spotted.

The machines got to the deck fast, faster than Dolidra anticipated. She slipped a hand on her pistol, before remembering that she had weight in Automata. She may be able to talk her way out.

As the modrons stopped, Dolidra raised off the ground, trying to look confident but emotionless. She noticed that the machines weren’t attacking. Two stepped up to her, and once they got too close, Dolidra spoke.

“I am Dolidra, daughter of Pelnis the Clockmaker. I am here from Automata, and need to know your purpose on the Prime.”

The modrons said nothing. They didn’t move, but Dolidra knew that they understood her. After a few uncomfortable seconds, both let out a gear-grinding screech. Dolidra didn’t understand their language well enough to translate it fully, but knew it was questioning in nature. The two modrons stepped closer to each other, nearly touching from the sides. Their eyes suddenly changed to the color of their master’s, mimicking her dual gaze.

“It has been some time Dolidra. I am somewhat surprised that you are representing Automata, as you have only been there…was it three times?”

Dolidra was stunned to her Symmette’s voices from the monsters.

“I-well yes. My father was…”

“Does he want the Pillar of Law back? Surely, he can see reason?” Symmette said through her puppets.

“No, he only wants to know why you have it, and why you’re commanding rouge modrons.” Dolidra said, noticing her voice started to shake.

The modrons reflected their master, and smiled.

“Dolidra, you are not a good liar. I will be happy to explain my actions to you. In fact, I will do it personally. Please follow these two rogue modrons, and go to my machine at the tower’s entrance.”

Panic shot through Dolidra’s veins. She could not be turned into a monster. She’d rather die than end up like Symmette, and would rather spend time in the hells than be one of those monsters Hein had fought. Dolidra remembered seeing one in the scrying stone before running to find Spigot. She had partially lost her nerve when she ran from the stone.

The modron’s eyes lost their color, and they ran off. All four of them ran down the dock, and stared off into the horizon. Dolidra turned to see what they were looking at, and could hardly believe what she saw. It was a boat, but not a normal boat, a steamboat, and it was somehow dodging the fireballs.

The thing moved with haphazard twists that bordered on either magic or divine intervention. Each time it looked like a fireball would hit, the boat leered left or right, and it hit the water harmlessly. Not only that, but the boat was not slowing.

The tower abruptly stopped firing. One modron exploded into dust, and another one ran from the doorway. They spoke again in their speech, and Dolidra understood they mentioned Symmette, particularly about her being upset, and requesting that the modrons guard the machine. The tower shot no more fireballs.

Unfortunately for the modrons, the strange boat was not as silent as the fireballs. Dolidra didn’t see any cannons on it, but did see a thin figure standing on the deck. Whoever it was held an odd-looking crossbow. The crossbow fired into the air, and a large, ochre cloud appeared over the modrons near Dolidra. When the cloud dropped to the modrons, they started to screech and run back to the others. Before the modrons got close, two more modrons came out and stabbed them. These modrons recoiled, as if afraid of touching the modrons they had just stabbed.

Dolidra noticed the dead modrons turned into dust, but it resembled that of the cloud that had touched them. Maybe it was contagious to modrons, hence their fear? She hesitated, wanting to know more, but also seeing this as a key time to escape. Dolidra took a pouch from her belt, slipped her pistol inside, then sealed it shut with a fastener designed to be watertight. She felt in the bag to make sure the rest of her powder was inside before jumping overboard.

The cold water shocked Dolidra, but it forced her to swim at the boat. She didn’t know how friendly the people on the boat would be, but anything was better than dealing with that machine. While swimming, she heard Hein ask again if she was safe, to which she tried to respond yes. As Hein started to talk, the boat turned abruptly in her direction.

“Dolidra, I can come get you if…”

“No!” She shouted as she swam, “That orb has been getting more unreliable. I may have found passage away from the tower. If it’s dangerous, I’ll let you know, but…”

Dolidra nearly choked on seawater as she tried to speak.

“Ailia has gone fully insane. I’m sorry Hein…I wanted to help…but I don’t know why this is happening. It makes no sense…” Dolidra tried to say.

“Lass, it really does. I’ve lived around her longer than you. I don’t think your people know how psychotic she is.” Hein answered.

“Tell them Hein! Use the mirror! They’ll get someone who can end this!” Dolidra yelled. The boat was getting close.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it. Get to safety, and see if you can spot Spigot.” Hein responded, though he did sound worried at the end.

“How many modrons are near that damnable machine?” Hein asked.

“Too many. Based on the numbers we lost when that last fight started, I don’t think your army can fight them evenly anymore. Just use the fly scrolls to get to the top. Didn’t you mention that you had an expert?” Dolidra asked.

“Yeah, but calling him an expert is a stretch. He’s our only shot though, and I do believe he can stop the tower.” Hein said.

As the ship got closer, Dolidra could see it slow. A dwarf ran out, looking panicked, and was hurrying to the edge.

“Get him up there…and please…contact Automata! They have an enforcer who can help!”

That was the last thing she said before a rope was thrown to her.

******************************************************************************

Ailia’s sword sunk deep into one of the painted clones. She saw one of their terrible blades vanish. Slatecutter must have a failsafe to keep them safe. Typical. The remnants of Slatecutter’s army had been destroyed in this area. They had ambushed her and the modrons from the other side, but she had anticipated this. Ailia’s orb held more power than Slatecutter’s, and she simply teleported her soldiers away, allowed Hein’s army to enter, then got her reinforcements to trap them inside the choke instead of her modrons. When Hein’s army started to faulter, she teleported the modrons back, and finished them off. Aila had notable losses, but Hein now had far less soldiers than she did. Ailia still had enough to guard her machine, which was more important. The battle would have been won for Slatecutter, but he didn’t know about her orb.

Hein couldn’t of course. It was from his old life, and he tried ever so hard to bury it. Unfortunately, business in the Hells tends to come back like an angry undead.

A modron told her the tower stopped firing. This was unacceptable, the modron who told her would die, but she had her pieces in the right places. All she had to do was deal with the adventurers, get Holder, and show Hein the real truth of everything. After that, the grand play would end, she would be a god, and Hein would be back in his rightful place at her side.

Ailia felt a white-hot burning all over her body. She doubled over, and fought back a scream. A trigger had been set off. Someone knew too much…but who? The realization hit her like a punch in the stomach. Dolidra! The spawn of Pelnis would not undo what she had accomplished! Of course she knew! All that time with Slatecutter…and nothing until now! She could tell Hein and ruin everything! Symmette had to go kill her…keep her from using the thing on her wrist.

She’d been made a fool of once already. After she had managed to save that orb and avoid the catastrophe Slatecutter caused. Not again. She wouldn’t panic and ruin the final act. Thankfully, in her grand wisdom, she’d prepared for this.

Looking through the modrons again, she saw Dolidra on the boat…that boat! The shark!

Dolidra didn’t know who he was, but he wasn’t hostile to strangers. It was doubtful that he would be able to help Slatecutter, as her army blocked the entrance. Symmette wanted both the shark and the girl dead…but if the army moved, Dolidra would call for help. She would have to use something more precise…

Symmette sat down on the dirty floor. One modron gasped as she placed her hands into a puddle of ink-blood to stabilize herself. She didn’t care.

Modrons could not be used for this. They were too stupid, and lacked precision. Symmette needed a trained killer. She needed someone more intelligent than the shark, someone who would kill any beings he deemed lesser. Aila drifted, into a telepathic trance. She touched one mind in particular, and signaled to open a communication to him.

“Magistrate, is that you? What do you want?” The mind answered.

“Yes Go’lin. I have attempted to distort reality on Faerun, to destroy several elder brains at once. They are located in the Underdark that runs nearer to the southern sea. In order to do this, I now need your aid. You seemed to have some respect for me after I destroyed that ulitharid, and I need someone with your zeal. We can help each other.” Symmette told it.

“Yes, you are a recognized enemy of the illithids, and are worthy of my attention.” It answered.

“There is a were-touched creature and an insane woman from Automata near the tower…a human to be precise. They want to shut off the tower I am using to destroy the enemy…”

Symmette did not get to explain any more before the mind interjected.

“What they are gives me reason to kill them. The fact they want to aid the illithids makes me wish for them a slow death. Please tell me this is why you’ve contacted me?”

Symmette was glad that one of the few people outside of Automata she’d made minor alliances with was a githyanki. Of course she had met much more githzerai, but they were not as vicious. The shark knew of them as well, and she had no idea which ones may know him. Also, this githyanki could not tell she was not being truthful. If the modrons heard her lies, they might have actually turned against her. Besides, even if he wasn’t one of the more elite githyanki warriors, he was deadly enough for this.

“Unfortunately, they need not a slow death, but they do need to die. More importantly, you must keep the human woman from speaking in a device on her arm. That device…”

Go’lin interjected again, “How can that be more important that harming the enemy! Have you lost your minds!”

Symmette had forgotten how arrogant these beings could be.

“…that device will alert the illithids. If you do this, I will show your people how to use this tower so they can destroy more illithids than I ever could.”

“I understand. It will be done. I await your summon.”

Symmette laughed to herself. That caused him to comply rather quickly. Lying was an art the modrons were fools for forsaking. Symmette saw Go’lin clearly. She then teleported him onto the shark’s boat.

******************************************************************************

The dwarf helped Dolidra onto the boat, before mumbling something near incoherent.

“Sorry lass I’d help ye but I need to steer…”

The dwarf bolted, and Dolidra now noticed that the modrons were ignoring the ship. They had surrounded the entrance, and the machine, and started chanting again. Mayne their only goal was to keep the machine guarded? Maybe they didn’t have a way to attack other than those fireballs? Dolidra knew of flying modrons, but none were coming to the ship. Dolidra couldn’t stop thinking, and only broke her concentration when she heard footsteps.

Dolidra was then confronted with the man who had fired the crossbow. Fear crept into her mind. He was short, shorter than her, but she could tell he was something monstrous. Aside from his very human form, the man’s mouth had teeth too big and pointed, black eyes, and familiar grey skin. Shark skin…but he couldn’t be a wereshark. He was far too humanoid, even for a hybrid. Not only that, but he was standing with his hands up.

The man in the black scarf started to speak, before the boat’s lurch nearly made him fall. Dolidra did fall, but didn’t stay down long. The man helped her onto her feet, then almost comically, stepped back with his hands up again.

“I’m not a wereshark, so please don’t shoot me.”

The man eyed the bag she kept her pistol in. There was a slight pistol shape to it, but Dolidra was surprised he guessed that’s what it was from such a vague outline. She continued to listen to him.

“I’ve actually helped some denizens of the lawful planes before, and am trying to work through this quagmire where one of them has gone off the deep end…”

Dolidra smiled, “Thank you for getting me on board this fine ship. I don’t know how you know so much friend, but I too have been to the lawful planes. I’m helping Hein, formerly a Slatecutter clan member, to stop some kind of modron inv…”

“Say no more,” The man in the black scarf interrupted, “I’m doing the same thing! Selune be praised!”

Dolidra examined the man more. When he shouted, his mouth opened wider at the cheeks. This had her intrigued.

“Pardon my question, but what exactly are you?’

The man in the black scarf smiled, “No pardon necessary. I’m someone who can’t really explain why I’m this way, or who made me like this, but I can tell you what I am. I’ve been divinely blessed with a muted form of lycanthropy, one that keeps my mind intact, but where I can’t change like a usual were-creature. Because of this, my condition is permanent, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m an enemy of Malar, a servant of the Moonmaiden, and a friend to people like Hein.”

Dolidra’s fascination was briefly broken by the man in the black scarf’s demeanor changing to one of sadness.

“I knew Ailia Symmette…well interviewed her…and the information I recorded got me into Candlekeep. She’s a unique creature, possibly the only lawfully mutated humanoid in creation. For all I know, I don’t think she has contact with anyone else on the Prime that can tolerate her. I’m the closest thing to an ally she has here. I know she’s insane, but the one I knew wasn’t evil. I want to find out why she’s doing this.” The man explained.

Dolidra tried not to laugh, “You are actually right, even people in Automata don’t like her that much. She scares them, sits in the dark, eats mice, a lot of strange things.”

“You know of Automata? The eyepiece made me think you were a tinker, but I didn’t…”

A sudden flash of light caused the man in the black scarf to stop speaking. From seemingly nowhere, a thin yellow being stood on the boat, and swung at Dolidra’s wrist with a blade. Dolidra was pushed aside by the man in the black scarf. Thankfully he was too fast for the attacker, the sword didn’t remove her hand, but this didn’t save the device on Dolidra’s wrist.

Dolidra shouted, then moved to grab her firearm. The yellow being, now clearly identifiable as a githyanki, used a telekinetic force to grab the pouch off her belt. It launched into his free hand, and smirked once his grip tightened.

“You bumbling animals and your toys. What does this do? Did a gnome made you a music box with more than three notes?”

“You don’t have a silver sword.” The man in the black scarf remarked, sporting something that combined a snarl and smile on his face.

Go’lin’s brow furrowed, “How could a creature like you know about…”

“The elite of you bastards always have those,” The man in the black scarf growled, his voice sounding more feral, “Astral forged swords that can cut silver cords. You don’t have one, and you’re alone, so I’m guessing you aren’t a githyanki who’s trained as long as the others. You coming here alone is a very unwise decision. You’ll find nothing to loot or take back, only modrons and death.” The man in the black scarf warned.

As he said this, Dolidra slipped out a small, square pouch from her belt. It looked harmless, but she still pointed it at the gith. He just laughed.

“I am more than a match for you fools! My blade is my right, and I will stop at nothing to hinder the enemy!” Go’lin shouted.

“Not much of a blade.” The man in the black scarf growled, his mouth parting at the cheeks.

The gith’s eyes widened upon seeing this. Before the Go’lin could do anything else, Dolidra pulled a small string on the back of the pouch. A bright flash blinded both the gith and shark. A small fireball shot out of the square Dolidra held. “Fireball” may have been generous. This was a tiny orb the size of a walnut, but it was hot enough to burn leather, and burn the bag the gith held, just like Dolidra wanted it to…

Go’lin noticed the danger, and dropped the pouch just a second before it exploded. While there wasn’t enough smokepowder inside to go off too terribly, the blast knocked the gith down, and did seem to injure him. The man in the black scarf had dived away as the flare shot out, and was completely unharmed.

Dolidra slipped out what looked like a dagger, but with a twist of a gear near the hilt, the shaft elongated into a short spear. She saw a grey blur, as the man in the black scarf charged at the gith. Go’lin was nearly a foot taller than the man in the black scarf. The gith looked like more than a match for the smaller man. Despite this, either the blast had wounded him more than he showed, or he was simply too slow to hit the man in the black scarf. Each swing of his sword widely missed, and after playing a sort of dodging dance, the man in the black scarf sharply side-kicked the gith in the ribs. The gith screamed, and nearly fell. It was clear that the gith did not anticipate this.

Once this happened, Dolidra ran in with her spear. She swiped at the gith’s shoddily armored midsection, managed to cut it, but was quickly parried away with his sword. This small distraction allowed for the man in the black scarf to kick again, this time onto the gith’s sword arm. The blow didn’t make him drop his sword, but he did something surprising. The gith vanished, and was seemingly hidden from sight, until Dolidra heard him run around the back of the ship.

Githyanki were very thin, odd-looking beings. They looked much weaker than they were, but had a strength that defied their slim builds. They were very dangerous; with a combination of strength, intelligence, and psychic powers, the githyanki had become infamous as astral raiders. Knowing all of this, it was strange for Dolidra to see one so quickly outmatched. She didn’t know if the man in the black scarf was just a superior fighter, if he was right about the gith’s lack of experience, or if the blast did some kind of internal damage. Whatever the case, this gith was not fighting like the astral raiders she had heard about.

Dolidra watched the man in the black scarf run, then stop before he got out of sight. She decided to go around the other side, but was greeted by the swing of the gith’s sword. The blade didn’t pierce her armor, but the chain under her clothes didn’t cover her arms. The downward swipe hit her upper arm, and cut her deeply.

Dolidra screamed, staggered back from the pain, and found the gith’s sword tip at her throat. The gith would have taken her head, had he not been hit by what looked like a swarm of small fangs made of light. They appeared to cut, almost bite, the air. The gith screamed, clearly confused, then turned in the direction of the attack. Dolidra saw it more clearly now. The fangs were like the outlines of a bite, a shark bite, that was made from a pale, silver light. The second bite drew a lot of blood, but the gith still charged.

The man in the black scarf was biting the air, and each snap of his jaws summoned the light-bite at a range. The gith continued to run, tanking several of the bites before getting in range to strike. He swung his blade down at the man in the black scarf. Unable to dodge from the gith’s charging momentum, the blade bit into his chest, but as the gith’s swing went down and out, the man in the black scarf lunged in. He bit into the gith’s throat as Dolidra dove in. She ran her spear through the gith’s chest, making sure to stop before it got too far in. Dolidra didn’t know if she had killed the gith, or the man in the black scarf, but the gith only had half a neck now. The man in the black scarf spat out the other half of the neck around the same time Dolidra retracted her spear back into a dagger.

“Arrogant piece of…oh…ack!” The man in the black scarf shouted with a mouth still dripping with watery blood.

He spat out a small piece of flesh, which looked very cartilaginous, then spat several more times.

“When I bit him, I spat most of it out…but by the gods that last bit did it…I can process it now! Worst meat I’ve ever tasted! Worse than orc, troll, even ogre! No wonder the illithids lost! If githyanki taste like this, I can’t blame the illithids for not wanting to eat them!”

The man in the black scarf chuckled, but it was difficult for him to laugh through the disgust. This devolved into retching, and after a second or two, he grabbed his chest.

“That taste was so bad it made me forget about my chest wound!” He said with a weak smile.

The man in the black scarf’s smile faded. Something caused the man in the black scarf to lose his happy demeanor, and it wasn’t his own injuries. He sniffed the air, and his head turned sharply to Dolidra.

“You’re bleeding…Saltrock!” He shouted, as he slipped a rag from his belt.

“This isn’t that bad. You seem more injured…much more so!” Dolidra said.

The man in the black scarf had a sizable wound across his chest, but the skin where the cut was looked very thick. Had he been a normal humanoid, the gith’s strike could have nearly killed him. His wound was still clearly worse than hers, and the more she looked at it, the more she started to worry.

Dolidra watched him huff the rag, which smelled strongly of a preservation fluid she’d seen in Automata. A fluid she knew had no medicinal value. The man in the black scarf noticed her watching him, then briefly moved the rag so he could speak.

“It’s the smell. Blood makes me hungry, and its intoxicating in a really bad way. Fortunately, I’m near-nauseous from the gith blood and meat, so I’m fighting back vomit now. Don’t worry, I don’t lose control around it, the rag just helps…”

The man in the black scarf stumbled. Dolidra ran up to catch him.

“No, you are probably nauseous from blood loss. Here…”

Dolidra reached into her belt, and pulled out a metal syringe. She slipped another small object, a very white rag smaller than the one the man in the black scarf held, rubbed the needle, then held it in his direction.

“Let me prick you with this, it will end the…” Dolidra started.

“I know what it is, but heal yourself first.” The man in the black scarf interjected

Captain Saltrock ran up with a bottle, then practically forced it into Dolidra’s hand. The potion tasted vile, probably like what the man in the black scarf said the gith tasted like, but totally healed her arm.

“I got five more if ye need em.” The dwarf said.

Dolidra smiled to the dwarf, “That will not be necessary,” she said, then walked over to the man in the black scarf.

“Push the needle in as deep as you can.” He told her as his eyes focused on the instrument.

Dolidra started to push the needle in his arm, but noticed how hard his skin was. She wiggled it, and found the needle going in albeit slowly. She forced the needle harder, and managed to get it through.

“That’s it, through the scales…” The man in the black scarf said.

The man’s skin was like strong leather. Once Dolidra slipped the needle out, she watched her healing tonic take effect. The wound didn’t fully vanish at first, but it stopped bleeding and grew visibly shallower. When the medicine had done its work, the man in the black scarf’s wound looked like a healed cut with only a smidge of a red line.

Dolidra grinned at her handywork, then cleared her throat and addressed the man in the black scarf.

“Listen, I know a way to help Hein, but we need to get inside. There’s another entrance, fairly close to the main one but cutoff from it. I doubt the modrons will know about it either. Its underwater, but not a deep dive. I have a device, and I assume you can breathe underwater.”

“Sorry, I can’t.” The man in the black scarf answered.

“…oh…I just thought…never mind. Can you dive twenty feet?” She asked.

“I can manage that.” Said the man in the black scarf.

Dolidra nodded, and made sure to tell the captain where to go. The modrons were all focused on the machine, so now she just hoped that Hein’s ace in the hole was as good as he thought.

The man in the black scarf, and Dolidra stayed silent as the dwarf got them closer to the hidden entrance. Thankfully, their boat wasn’t far off, and the three arrived in no time. Once there, both Dolidra and the man in the black scarf dove into the water, and were soon inside the tower. Dolidra caused a light to shine from her eyepiece, and the man in the black scarf didn’t appear to need much light to see.

As the two hurried down the empty hallways, they started to talk.

“All of this started when I got some jumbled, telepathic message from Ailia. She wanted me to “find the Sword of Automata” but we couldn’t figure out what that was until recently. Azra’s damned sword is that sword, but she couldn’t have just told us. We’ve had to deal with his nonsense for so long, and had we’d known that, this mess could have been over by now.” The man in the black scarf explained.

“I wish I could tell you more…but I honestly don’t remember a sword there with that much importance. Also, why is Azra a statue?” Dolidra asked.

“I was hoping you could tell me that. I guess he wasn’t made of stone when you met him.” The man said.

“Well…I never officially met him. I remember him before Hein left, when he was a regular human, but something changed when he came back from his exile.” Dolidra answered.

The man in the black scarf looked confused, “Came back?” He asked

Dolidra took time to think before responding.

“Well, he was exiled for…erm…it isn’t important. He did something during the exile that got the attention of Primus, and he was let back in. Unfortunately, I didn’t see any of that, only heard about it from father. I’m fairly sure though he wouldn’t simply be petrified…that is quite odd.”

“You mentioned his sword though.” Dolidra continued, “I never heard anything about a sword to protect the city. The city did have a protector, though I don’t know its name. It was some kind of inevitable.”

“If that thing was brought here, do you think it could help stop this?” The man in the black scarf asked.

“Yes. It was quite powerful. I think it was a guard for demonic incursions. The Outlands gate towns don’t have too many defenses. I never had to interact with it much. I literally only saw it once. Keep in mind, I rarely visit that city. Even to see father, it takes so many steps just to get inside, and the paperwork is awful.” Dolidra said.

“If Hein can just get over his aversion to that place, that thing might just be able to plane shift into here and help us stop this invasion with a literal iron fist.” The man in the black scarf responded.

The man in the black scarf looked around cautiously before speaking. He reached into his belt, and took out a small glass orb.

“If the modrons find us, this will release the mist that I dropped over them when my boat arrived. Its from rust monsters, and is quite effective. That will give us time to escape. Is there a way we can communicate with Hein here?” The man in the black scarf asked.

“Once we make it to the command center. There’s no way to know where the scryers will be looking, and they’ll probably monitor the modrons. I think we will be safe, as the modrons aren’t occupied with us.” Dolidra said.

“Since you’ve been so helpful with what you know about Hein, maybe you can help me with something else. I know Hein fought off a rakshasa in the nine hells. I don’t know how, but he told me it that he’d killed it. Hein seemed very certain of that, but those prideful creatures probably have ways to deal with threats even after they’ve died. I was worried that it somehow did this in its death-throws. Maybe corrupted Symmette…” The man in the black scarf said before trailing off.

Dolidra’s eyes perked before she answered him.

“Yes, though he doesn’t talk much about his experiences there. I was surprised he told me, maybe just because how much tech I’ve worked on. Apparently, he had a timed spell go off and ignite a lot of stored explosives.”

The man in the black scarf’s eyes widened. Dolidra briefly saw the usually hidden whites of his eyes. He turned to face Dolidra, and looked intently into her eyes.

“Did these explosives use any sort of magic? Were they more spell-powered than mundane? Did he use a spell, and not just enchanted materials? Like, specifically a spell for it to work?”

Dolidra blinked, appearing a little confused at the man in the black scarf’s question.

“Oh, I am sorry. I’ve been around engineers so long; I forget how to talk to people without experience in building technological items.”

“Don’t apologize,” the man in the black scarf said a little urgently, “I just need to know.”

“Well, yes. Most mundane explosives won’t function in the Nine Hells. Hein undoubtably had to cast some form of magic for it to work.”

The man in the black scarf broke out into a sweat. He felt panic shoot through his nerves.

“Listen…we need to contact Hein. I think the rakshasa he “killed” isn’t dead at all. They can completely negate types of magic you see, unless the spell in this item was very powerful, it wouldn’t have killed it. I think only very high-level spells can harm it magically. It may be responsible for all of this…”

Before the man in the black scarf could continue, he saw another flash of light. It was like before the gith arrived, but this time was much more sudden. The man in the black scarf tried to ready himself, but rather than see an enemy appear from thin air, he and Dolidra were teleported somewhere else. This jarred the two, throwing off their senses, and allowing a short opening. The attacker moved much too fast. Before the man in the black scarf could realize where he was, Dolidra’s head was neatly severed from her shoulders, followed by her arms and legs.

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As what was left of Dolidra landed on the floor, the man in the black scarf looked up to see Symmette. She looked enraged, and the ample amount of blood running off her drawn swords heightened the madness that was plastered on both faces.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? I can see everything this woman thought of you, and it disgusts me! The paltry experiments you’ve conducted in that sea, that piece of demiplane spittle…it is nothing! You don’t even stand up to a mortal wizard at his lowest!”

The man in the black scarf lunged at what he knew to not be Symmette. He didn’t connect, and found himself hitting a bronze wall. The man in the black scarf heard manic giggling as he tried to get his bearings. Upon opening his eyes, he saw a horrible sight.

He was in a room with several small scrying stones on pedestals. Maybe it was somewhere Hein used to monitor what happened in the tower, but this didn’t matter. What mattered was the bodies. There had to be seven or eight of them, all dead from bite wounds. The modrons had somehow gotten to them, used their teeth, and butchered everyone in the room. The man in the black scarf noticed something more disturbing than the killed engineers…he saw the body of Spigot.

Eight modrons stomped out of the darkness, blood smeared on their mouths, and all eyeing the man in the black scarf. Two more strode from the darkness, and held Captain Saltrock down by the arms. Whatever held Symmette’s image shortly followed.

The thing spoke to the man in the black scarf, though it still had Symmette’s voices.

“I know they didn’t hear what you said, but I couldn’t chance it. This was because of you; I hope you know this. Had you never mentioned me, then they would all still be alive right now.”

The thing looked over to the dwarf with a smirk on one face, and a scowl on the other.

“If you eat some pieces of him right now, I won’t kill him. Just bite off the legs, maybe an arm, and if you do it fast enough, he’ll pass out from the blood loss. I can heal him of course, and drop him off at a place of your choosing.”

The man in the black scarf fought hard to suppress the panic. In the deluge of thought-screamed prayers and plans filling his head, he focused on one thing.

“Jalakara…you’ve never actually seen the Silent Sea, have you? Ailia’s view of it is imperfect, her grasp of my work equally so. You don’t actually know anything about it do you?”

The fiend’s eyes, all four of them twitched. It could not be talked down to like this, and had to let the man in the black scarf know how he was wrong. It inhaled, and before the thing could explain or berate, the man in the black scarf moved like a blur. Even with Symmette’s heightened senses, it almost lost track of him. The thing’s thoughts were thrown off, from readying quite a lot of things to say, to worrying about its prisoner escaping. It did the only sensible thing. It sent the man in the black scarf and his friend to their deaths.

With another flash of light, the man in the black scarf, and the boat captain, were gone. Both were teleported to an open shaft in the tower. It was a fall nobody could survive. Jalakara only hoped the fall wouldn’t destroy his body beyond recognition. He wanted Hein to see what Symmette had done to his dear ally from the nightmare sea.

From the shaft, the man in the black scarf tried to slow down his fall. He noticed that the captain was unharmed, and wanted to keep it that way.

“Grab onto my back!” He screamed at the dwarf.

Captain Saltrock didn’t complain, and did just that. The man in the black scarf focused, something quite hard to do in a situation like this, and channeled the power of his very soul.

Perhaps his prayers paid off, perhaps whatever held Symmette’s form simply didn’t know the tower as well as it thought, but a split second before the impact, the dwarf felt the air slow. The two’s speed rapidly decreased. Captain Saltrock still felt the impact, and fell off of the man in the black scarf. The dwarf saw the man in the black scarf bounce away with a broken arm. His body was not totally destroyed, but did look badly injured. Somehow, Captain Saltrock was fine.

The dwarf leapt from the spot he had fallen, and ran to his friend. A broken arm, half bruised face, and a twisted spine scared the dwarf, but the man in the black scarf was still breathing.

With trembling hands, Captain Saltrock reached into his belt pouch. A wet feeling made his blood run cold. Surely, they didn’t all crack? His fear subsided as he felt most of the bottles intact. Thankfully it was only one potion, and the crack in the bottle wasn’t that bad either. He had plenty of time to pour it in the shark-like man’s mouth. Then he poured the next, and the next.

The man in the black scarf’s arm snapped back into place. His facial bruise vanished, and Captain Saltrock saw that his spine was not broken. He had simply been lying at an odd angle. By the time the last potion went in, the man in the black scarf looked nearly as good as new.

“I’m glad you acted fast…” He told the dwarf weakly.

“Hells! I’m glad ye didn’t splatter!”

“That we both didn’t splatter…” The man in the black scarf corrected.

Captain Saltrock helped up the man in the black scarf.

“Who knows whats goin’ on down ‘ere…” The dwarf muttered.

“Listen Captain…” the man in the black scarf started, “We need to get you out of here. I taught you how to enter the Silent Sea. You need to go to some deep water, say the words, and get there. Once in the sea, do it again, and you should return to the boat.”

“I ain’t gonna leave ye hear to die!” The dwarf shouted. “We both need to go, and just interrupt their dreams…”

“How?” The man in the black scarf asked. “We can’t do that unless they’re not conscious. I used up the last method I had to make them sleep. Too much is at stake now. They don’t know that…”

The man in the black scarf stopped himself. The horror of what happened last time struck him. He didn’t finish, but wanted to make sure his friend understood.

“If it comes up, tell them she isn’t who they think. She’s the thing from the book I wanted to look for. You aren’t leaving me to die, but I have to…I must…tell Hein and the others what they need to know.

Saltrock nodded. The man in the black scarf continued.

“If you get the boat, taking it back here will be too big of a risk. I’ll contact you when I can.”

Captain Saltrock said nothing, but the man in the black scarf could tell he understood.

“It’s been a damned privilege.” The dwarf said somberly.

The man in the black scarf smiled before speaking.

“I got lucky when I bit off that elf-king’s hand. It was your people that ended the battle, I just made victory a little quicker. You’ve always looked at my blunder too highly, you owe me nothing, and have helped me in more ways than I could have ever asked for. If I don’t make it, keep the ship, and tell your clan how to access the Silent Sea. Maybe if that moron had any relatives that want revenge, you can surprise them with some new glowing fish-friends.”

The dwarf laughed softly, “I don’t think he did. He tried to kill off the wrong dwarf clan, an’ hardly had the elves for the job!”

“That he did, that he did…” the man in the black scarf affirmed with a smile.

The dwarf started to walk off into the darkness, before turning back to the man in the black scarf.

“Don’t take too long. I already promised ye I’d find a nice dwarven lass to make you a proper part of the family.” Saltrock said.

“If she doesn’t have a beard, I will gladly accept…now go before the modrons hear us crying.” The man in the black scarf answered with a fading smile.

The dwarf smiled, though even in the gloom it was a clear pained one, and ran off. The fact his footsteps sounded like they were getting into deeper water relieved the man in the black scarf. He then started to walk in the opposite direction, not knowing where to go, but hoping that his fortune had not yet ran out.

******************************************************************************

Hein stopped trying to call Dolidra. He stared, then glanced around the room. A realization hit him.

“I can’t believe it. I’m an idiot. I’m just a full on, simple-minded, glue-eater. They should put me in a travelling circus for not remembering all the other scrolls we had…” Hein said.

“Is this ‘bout how Theril damn near killed ya?” Qresh asked while looking at Theril.

“Tortle…I will not say again…” Theril started to say, rather confidently, before Qresh ran up to him. The large reptile moved much faster than he should have been able to.

Qresh grabbed Theril by the collar, and lifted him off the ground. Theril screamed, starting with fear and ending with anger. He wasn’t being choked, but still held onto Qresh’s arm.

“How many times have ya missed an’ hit one o’us? Hmm? Never seen ya do it? Why now, why at such a time? You ain’t actin’ right an’ are a danger to…” Qresh growled with an oddly quivering voice.

“Please…please don’t fight right now…” Rexi murmured.

Theril could tell that Rexi was in a state of shock from Toenails’ death. Qresh was obviously in the same state, as he quickly relaxed his grip, which caused Theril to drop onto his feet. Theril watched Qresh’s now dead eyes lock onto the floor. He lumbered back to Rexi, and sat down beside her. Qresh’s large hand softly patted her back, which caused a steel clang to echo in the room.

Hein looked over, and seemed to realize that this wasn’t the time for jokes, even about himself.

“We have fly scrolls. I only have three here, but if Qresh carries Rexi, me, Qresh, and Azra can fly up to the top. Azra can carry Theril if…”

“Absolutely not.” Azra interjected.

“…or Theril can stay behind.” Hein finished.

Theril’s ears twitched upon hearing that.

“No! I’m not staying here alone! Use the damned orb to get us up there!” Theril said rather panicked.

“I was planning on it, but if the orb decides it doesn’t want to work anymore, we need backup plans. The fly scrolls can get us off the tower if something goes badly when we deactivate it. When I said you should stay behind, I didn’t mean here…”

Hein walked up to Theril, who slightly twitched. The elf still remembered what Symmette had told him. Maybe she didn’t want to end reality? All of this seemed targeted at Slatecutter and that damned statue. Maybe she only wanted them? If that was true, he could escape.

Theril couldn’t stop thinking about what he had seen. “They wouldn’t make me into a monster… Surely not!”

The elf was fighting not to panic. Hein’s voice snapped him out of his fears.

“I have a command center,” Hein said, “Where you’ll be safe. If you’re going to get so scared that you can’t see straight, I doubt you’ll be much use to anyone.”

Theril didn’t protest, but remembered what he was told. Maybe there was a way he could tell her? Maybe that would get him out unharmed.

The device on Hein’s wrist crackled. Dolidra had finally answered.

“I’m sorry, I’m pinned down. Spigot was in trouble, had to save him, tower shot us both. I’m fine but he’s missing. Please don’t speak they may hear…”

Hein waited a few seconds, before whispering, almost inaudibly, into the device on his wrist.

“Location?”

Dolidra responded, “Outside the tower in a docked ship. Many, many enemies at entrance.”

“…shit…” Hein replied.

Dolidra continued, “If you hear nothing but a tap, take it as a signal that I cannot speak. If I am in actual danger, I will shout for help. I’ll understand if you can’t teleport me out. Saving our world is the priority after all but…”

Hein and the others hear a double tap, then silence. Hein started pacing around nervously.

“We need to go to the command center as soon as possible. If Dolidra is in immediate danger, I need eyes on the enemy. I bet my boys finished a lot of them off at that room we just got out of. However, the fly scrolls will still be handy for something I have planned.”

Hein ran off into the darkness, as small floating lights started to illuminate where he ran. Hein arrived at a metal display case, with four construct killing swords inside.

“These things kill the modrons near-instantly. I saw that we rig them up in a narrow entrance, one that’s masked with something so they can’t see the blades. Get the modrons to funnel in, and bam, they’ll all be dying and may not know it.”

The partially caused Rexi and Qresh to stop their grieving. Rexi started to smile.

Hein felt the need to say more, “I am really sorry about Toenails. Truthfully, that dwarf said and did things I would have laughed at for weeks had we not been in such a serious situation. He died a hero, and I just wish he had an actual name so we wouldn’t have to carve Toenails on his gravestone.”

“He would have wanted it like that…he actually wanted his body fed to forest animals in front of snobby people so they’d be sick…” Rexi said with a half-smirk.

Hein smiled, but the smile faded as Azra coughed. He must have run out of vomit…Hein didn’t know where it came from.

“Modrons have truesight, so making it invisible will not work.” Azra flatly stated.

Hein’s shoulders slumped. He started to put the sword down, before Azra continued.

“…however, we could simply rig some cloth over the trap. Stretch it out, cut a slit in it so they can enter and not see what’s behind it. The modrons are too stupid to think anything nefarious would be under cloth. If it is positioned properly, it can even help hold the excess dust they become when they die.”

“Hein looked a little shocked, then started to laugh.

“Azra you’re a genius! That’s perfect!” Hein shouted.

Azra didn’t seem as joyful. He continued speaking soon after Hein had calmed down.

“As for getting them in one small area, that will not be difficult. They will pursue relentlessly, if we are their targets. I assume you know somewhere we can lead them?” Azra said.

“Yes, I do.” Hein said, “This tower has those stairwells. I know at least one has…”

“Why don’t we get you to draw out Symmette? She wants you, or you and the statue. Why don’t we get you two to go first, then see if the modrons even attack. Theril interrupted.

Everyone stared at Theril, with all but Qresh looking confused.

“…because every time Azra’s been with us, they’ve tried to kill everyone. That won’t work Theril.” Hein said a little irritated.

“Rot in the Hells! We are facing a fate worse than death! The least we can do is try everything!” Theril screamed, sounding more frightened than arrogant.

“Hey, I already said I could keep you safe.” Hein answered calmly.

“You can’t keep anyone safe!” Theril shouted back.

“Dolidra…can you hear me?” Hein whispered into the device.

Hein had heard the sounds of splashing, hinting that Dolidra may have fallen into the ocean. Upon hearing this, Hein actually walked out of earshot from the rest of the group. When Hein left, Qresh noticed a brief shimmer come from his bag.

Qresh started to walk after Hein, before Rexi stood up. This made the tortle stop.

“Let’s leave him to his duties Qresh.”

“Rexi…somethin’ ain’t right in his bag…” Qresh said rather intently.

“We can ask him when he finishes whatever he may be dealing with.” Rexi replied.

“Mhmn…” Qresh growled.

“Theril started to walk away from the group, down the opposite way Hein went. All of his efforts to get the tiefling or the statue to Symmette were not working. Maybe he needed to do something more drastic?

Theril glanced over at the boxes Hein had in the corner. Most looked opened now.

Hein walked back to Rexi, Qresh, and Azra.

“Dolidra is not in danger anymore, but she told me that the modrons are swarming the machine. It sounds like Symmette has most of them at the entrance. I understand why, she sees it as more important than the tower. She wanted me to contact Automata of all things…said they had an enforcer who could help.”

Hein shrugged, then looked over at Azra, “Does that ring a bell, Azra?”

Azra fought back a laugh, “Oh, no. I would certainly remember someone like that. The guard captain is the only one who fits that description, but he couldn’t help us aside from offering an extra sword.”

“I thought as much. The place has stayed the same since I left. I doubt contacting them would get us anywhere…and with recent events I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it.” Hein responded.

A quick tug stopped Hein from saying anything else. He felt something strong rip the Mimir out of where he was carrying it. Before Hein could protest, a soft glow caused his blood to run cold.

Qresh was holding the Mimir in one hand, and the thing was still active.

“I…I disabled it. This shouldn’t be possible!” Hein shouted.

Qresh slowly crushed the metal skull, causing it to deform, its lights to flicker, and it to finally die with a brief puff of smoke.

“Ain’t gonna turn on us now!” Qresh growled.

“Did it hear everything we said? Does she know where we are?” Rexi asked, her voice dropping in volume as she did.

“It would be safe to imagine so. Because of that, I need to explain what we’re going to do now, and about what we will need, with little interruptions.” Hein said.

Hein’s thoughts were now racing. In a flash of genius, several ideas came into his head; how many magic items he could use, what the Five had, the flaw in Azra’s plan, Hein sorted through them all in an instant.

Hein took a deep breath, then handed a fly scroll to Qresh.

“We’re going with the original plan up until the cloth shroud. Qresh can fasten part of it to the wall with some small pitons I have, and I know he’s strong enough to just bash them in. We’ll lead the modrons to that area, and have them think the trap failed. We won’t use the sword for this either. Once they go through it and find nothing, we will fly to the floor the command center is on.

Hein continued, “I am going to have Qresh drop one of the construct killer swords as they chase us. He seems very apt in moving in near impossible ways. You wouldn’t happen to be able to catch arrows too? Would you?”

“Yep…” Qresh happily growled.

Hein flashed a wide grin, “I thought you would say that. Can you throw a sword where it stays relatively straight? Or at least get it to spin?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard now…mhm…did it one time with one o’ them there fancy curved swords.”

Hein’s smile grew before he continued, “Perfect. The modrons won’t be expecting this. If you throw it hard enough, it’ll fall all the way down and act much like the trap would. The sword isn’t slowed down when it kills a modron, so it will be like dropping a stone in water.”

“What happens after that?” Rexi asked with anticipation.

“After that…” Hein started, “…we hope this kills enough of the flying ones to make a stand at the command center. From there, I can get the rest of my army to head in our direction, or intercept the modrons. I’m hoping Azra can talk some sense into Symmette, or at least distract her, so we can shut off the tower.”

Hein started to walk over to his stash of magic items, where Theril was, but stopped himself and turned around before getting to the boxes.

“We’re running out of time; she’ll be here soon. What kind of magic items do you all have?”

“Qresh and I have rings of protection. My sword is magical, and Qresh has some enchanted bracers. Theril has a necklace that seals his wounds. We had more, but they were destroyed in our last adventure.” Rexi replied.

“Let me see if I have anything that can help us. I know that I have dozens of potions and scrolls…”

Hein ran up to a crate, and got the rod he had previously used to restore their spells.

“I didn’t think about giving you this at the time, with the trust issues I had, but now that we know each other, I have a sword someone needs to use. Qresh doesn’t need a magic sword, but if he wants one, I know I have it somewhere in this box. Rexi, you’re welcome to it as well of course. I didn’t use it myself just because the construct killer decimates modrons faster, and it doesn’t require attunement. Unfortunately, most magic items I have require you to attune to them for hours. We need to take all the potions and scrolls we can carry…”

Hein stopped himself, as he rummaged through the box. Hein heard a strange crackle from his wrist device. He tried to listen to it, but it made no sound. The thing must have been damaged…he would have to scry for Dolidra at the command center.

There was a straw filling inside to keep the items from bumping into one another, but the vorpal blade should have been in here.

“I must have misplaced the sword. We don’t have a lot of time…I’m not sure if…”

Hein didn’t get to finish. Before he could, a glowing blade was thrust into his back. Hein screamed, then doubled over the box. Theril removed the sword from Hein’s back, which shuddered with magic as he did. Theril then looked down at the scrolls he had placed in the neighboring box. He used his free hand to summon a firebolt, and burned the box without much effort. He did this three more times before the shock wore off of Rexi and Qresh.

Azra and Qresh both charged at Theril. Qresh tried to grab him again, but Theril moved much too fast. He moved in a blur, and nearly took off Qresh’s head. The strength that was now behind the blade actually threw Qresh back a few feet. Though the cut was deep, it didn’t sever the tortle’s jugular. Qresh was bleeding, but not nearly as bad as he could have been. Qresh started to charge again, but suddenly, an explosion of noise came from his wound. The blast knocked him onto his back.

Qresh rolled over, tried to stand again, but fell to a knee. Theril tried to finish what he started, but Azra intercepted his blade. Azra glanced over to the crates where Hein had fallen, and noticed a number of shattered vials.

“You…you drank them all!” Azra shouted at the elf.

Theril responded by shooting backwards, actually levitating through the air, and hovering out of reach of Azra. The chamber that Hein stored his crates was rather large, and had a fairly high ceiling. Theril was in the center of its height, but was still over fifteen feet in the air.

“You’re all fools! We should have escaped once we got those scrolls, but you actually want to stay in this deathtrap! I’m getting out of here, and if you try to stop me, I’ll cut you down! I’ll…”

A lump formed in Theril’s throat. He remembered what Symmette had told him. She wanted him to bring them to her. Maybe he could revive Hein, and finish off the rest. If he did that, he’d have a better chance at leaving. He could try and fly out now, but what if she knew? She could certainly stop him with flying modrons. He drank potions to improve his strength, speed, make him fly, heal constantly, and become resistant to everything. Theril could do this. He would do this, and he would survive.

Theril dove in, aiming to finish off Qresh, but he was again parried by Azra. He darted back, then swooped down at Rexi, then at Hein. Azra’s speed was nearly on par with Theril’s, and was enough to intercept him each time, but not counterattack. The sword Theril used constantly gave off a sparking cloud, and made a loud bang every time Azra’s blade touched it.

Rexi ran at Qresh, then looked back over to Hein.

“Qresh, don’t move! I know that spell, its…”

Qresh spoke before she could finish, “Rexi…I ain’t dyin’ yet…get one of them there healin’ potions devil boy has an get him back up…he ain’t dead…I know it…he can help us with his magic.”

Qresh coughed wetly, “I tried to grab ‘em…Theril…wasn’t gonna kill him…probably am now…”

“We will stop him Qresh…I promise.”

Rexi was beyond tears at this point. She had already watched one of her team die, and now, Theril decided to do this. She knew Qresh wasn’t going to kill Theril before Theril cut him down, and that if he had wanted to, Qresh could have crushed the elf’s head before Theril could land a blow. This would not stand.

Rexi screamed something in spell-speech, which caused a torrent of magical missiles to bombard Theril. It was from a higher-level spell, and hurt quite a bit. Theril nearly dropped his sword, but the potion’s effects kept him from falling. The wounds from the missiles started to close. Rexi remembered what Qresh said. She darted to Hein as Azra held up his sword.

Theril flinched as Azra held up his blade. Remembering his bow, Theril slipped the magic sword into his belt, and drew his bow.

“Grovelthrash can cut through anything.” Azra said rather calmly.

Theril didn’t answer, and just fired the bow. Each shot, Azra was able to deflect. Theril was amazed at the statue’s speed. Each time he missed, Theril flew in a little closer to get a better shot. After getting a few feet nearer, his arrow hit true. The statue’s skin didn’t seem to be too resilient, as the arrow punctured it like thin chain armor.

Azra gritted his teeth, ripped the arrow out, and kept up his guard. He remembered; remembered now how his sword could cut through anything. He had actually wounded a dragon’s lair, maybe he could wound something else.

Like the effects of a potion.

Theril continued to fire, and hit Azra two more times. Each shot, he inched closer. Azra kept trying to deflect, waiting for the right moment. Once the elf was out of the reach of most fighters, Azra leapt. He did so supernaturally fast, just as fast as Theril flew. Azra swung his sword, and only scraped the elf’s armor. The scrape did cut into it, but drew no blood. Theril laughed, but his victory was short lived, as he was now falling to the ground.

Theril wasn’t the only one to have a periapt of wound closure. Hein had just now woken up, in a sort of mad-daze. Theril had stabbed him…but why? He had meant to shoot him as well…maybe he was panicking? Maybe he thought killing them would make him look like less of a threat? Or maybe she had contacted him.

Hein’s speculation was thrown off feeling a small hand in his pocket. He nearly jumped up, when he realized his movement had scared the hand’s owner. Rexi flinched, but didn’t change her position.

“You scared me…but you’re alive! Thank the Red Knight!” Rexi shouted, then tightly hugged Hein

“Magic amulet…but thanks for trying to save me…” Hein said through the gnome’s tight grip.

Hein uttered a spell, and caused a healing aura to surround the two of them. After this, he handed a potion to Rexi, and the two of them ran to Qresh. Hein casted another healing spell on himself, quite a big one. Theril had nearly finished him off with that blow.

Theril snapped his ankle back into place. The regeneration potion would keep it healthy. He now would have to fight the human statue on foot. Theril didn’t know how much damage Azra could sustain, but he did know how inanimate objects were usually weak to thunder. The sword he had on his belt automatically casted booming blade on a successful strike, but it had another purpose. The sword had told him, all in an instant upon wielding, that he could hold in these strikes, and release accumulated strikes in groups of five. The damage five combined thunder blasts could do would annihilate a statue like Azra. Besides, Theril could still move faster than Azra, and the Five were being foolish.

Azra lunged at Theril, who managed to dodge his sword swipe. Even though Theril dodged, Azra anticipated which way he would go, and nearly struck Theril on his counterattack. Azra was a remarkably good swordsman, Theril knew that if he couldn’t move so quickly, he’d probably be dead by now. Azra’s form was outmatched by Theril’s superior speed. Theril was trying to focus solely on dodging, and would only strike when the statue started to faulter.

“Your wife spoke to me statue. She wants you and the foul-blood alive. She said the others could die! Why not just put your sword down!” Theril shouted.

Azra’s face twisted, he swung out at Theril, but it was a feint. Theril dodged, and couldn’t catch himself in time. Azra’s sword swung in, and bit into his shoulder. Theril fought back a scream, but counterattacked in time to hit Azra. One down, four more to go.

Rexi watched Qresh’s wounds start to close. As this happened, Hein started to heal the rest of Qresh’s neck. Rexi glared over at Theril and Azra, and started to advance.

“That monster wanted me to survive statue! Me, and not you! Why wouldn’t she just come save you?” Theril roared.

Azra responded with a dizzying flurry of blade strikes. Theril tried to parry them instead of dodge, and caught another slash through the chest. This time, the blade bit through his armor with no trouble at all. Theril didn’t really care though, his shoulder was already healing. All he had to do was keep them busy, and the modrons would see how he was innocent.

Theril counterattacked again, for some reason, Azra was more vulnerable when he actually hit something. This time, his blow caused Azra to stagger back, and start to breathe deeper. The cut looked near-lethal, but Azra didn’t really have blood. Theril doubted he even used his heart…assuming he had one still.

Theril’s ears perked as he sensed something. A sword bit into his shoulder blade. Though it did go through his armor, the armor kept it from leaving a more serious wound. He turned around to see Rexi, eyes burning, and holding a sword that was on fire.

“Commander…don’t you want to know why I’ve done this?” Theril asked, and tried to smile as he did so.

“No.” Rexi answered flatly, as she swung her blade at Theril.

Rexi wasn’t fast like Theril, but she was strong. Theril knew she had somehow altered herself to be as strong as one of the larger races, and he felt every ounce of that strength behind the sword blow when he parried it. Flames erupted from the sword, actually causing his hair to start to burn. Despite this, Theril’s potion made him stronger.

Instead of just parry, Theril swung as hard as he could at Rexi’s blade. She didn’t drop her sword, but the blow sent Rexi reeling back. Theril quickly patted out the fire on his head, dove in, and managed to hit Rexi in the side of the armor. Though she was coming off the ground, she could have avoided the attack. She didn’t dodge, and the blow didn’t pierce her armor.

Theril realized that Rexi wasn’t going to dodge the attacks that were on her armored areas. She had no reason to dodge if the armor could stop the blow. He grinned widely, then struck her three more times. Despite not drawing blood, it was charging the sword.

Theril didn’t know why Azra had stopped, but he couldn’t afford to look. Rexi’s swordsmanship was about equal to Azra’s, only it was less speedy and more calculated. Theril was having some trouble dodging the attacks, when one actually hit him in the face. The sword tip went against his mouth, and up through his cheek. Theril leapt back in time to save his eye, but the pain was near unbearable. In his brief moment of daze, Rexi lunged. Rexi impaled Theril with her sword, gritting her teeth as she did.

Azra was wondering how he was alive. He knew that blow should have killed him…but it didn’t. Azra’s vision blurred. He saw and image of a needle…one that could repair things. He then saw Grovelthrash…the clockwork man version of him…healing from a wound. Azra remembered now…he could heal himself…

Azra focused, and felt his wound start to close. He kept at this, watching Theril and Rexi fight, when Rexi managed to impale Theril.

Rexi started to pull her sword out, but Theril swung in before she had a chance to. He was somehow able to do this while impaled.

“No!” Azra shrieked, as Theril’s blade bit into Rexi’s neck.

The blade let out a thundering boom, and flung Rexi away from Theril. Theril pulled out her sword, but Azra was now focused on Rexi. She was lying a few feet away, a large piece missing from her neck, and her eyes looking lifeless. Theril had killed her.

Qresh, who had been watching the fight, went into action. Hein tried to tell him to stop, tried to tell him that he wasn’t healed enough, but Qresh didn’t care. Theril had drank a potion to make him faster and stronger, but Qresh would match it. He drew in the power of his very soul, every ounce of it, and charged.

Theril had to heal. The regeneration wasn’t acting fast enough. He slipped out a healing potion he had in his belt, drank it, and felt the effects. In his heightened state, he saw Azra staring in shock at Rexi, and knew this may be a good time to escape. He started to run, before he saw Qresh start to run at him. Theril couldn’t help it, the least he could do is send Qresh to the afterlife with Rexi.

Then Qresh moved like a bullet.

The tortle’s massive form smashed into Theril. This alone was enough force to break several of the elf’s bones. The resistance potion, however, gave Theril enough fortitude to stand up, scream, and swing at Qresh. His blade hit Qresh, but bounced off the tortle’s armored hide. In a blur, he swung again, as Qresh swung down at him. The tortle’s blade cleaved the elf’s free arm clean off.

Seemingly unbothered at the loss of his arm, Theril thought of an idea. Qresh would keep coming for him, but he could use this to his advantage. His arm would heal, would even regrow, so long as he had time. Theril used his speed to dart back, but readied his sword for an attack. As Qresh charged, he used all the speed he had to thrust the sword. Theril stabbed the sword through Qresh, but in his haste, Theril had aimed the sword more toward his gut than heart.

Qresh dropped his sword. His world spun, but he had time. He wouldn’t need a sword for this. Qresh grabbed the elf’s sword hand with his larger clawed one, locking the elf in place. Qresh punched Theril, the first destroyed the elf’s nose and lips, the second caused teeth to fly out, the third caused Qresh to feel the elf’s skull crack near the mouth.

Azra should have intervened, but the exchange between Qresh and Theril had happened in seconds. Azra started to charge, but heard metallic boots marching. He looked back to Hein, who had ran over to Rexi, no doubt to try and heal her.

“Hein! I hear modrons!” Azra shouted.

Hein didn’t answer.

Qresh landed another blow, but it threw the elf away from him. Theril’s face was ruined. One eye had apparently been smashed out of his skull, and the other swollen shut. Qresh clenched his fist tighter, which caused two teeth embedded in it to pop out. He could feel his power wane, and quickly pulled the sword out of his chest. This sapped his remaining strength.

Theril twitched on the ground, then started to rise. Much to Qresh’s surprise, Theril was not dead. Either from the potion he had drank, or his magical necklace, Theril had survived. The elf scrambled up off the floor, and bolted. Qresh knew he couldn’t follow, but maybe he had done enough.

Azra felt his wound seal. Azra glanced over to Qresh, who hadn’t dropped, saw Theril run, and charged after him. Even with his new speed, Azra felt like the now colossally wounded Theril couldn’t outrun him.

Hein knew Rexi was dead the moment he saw her. Hein knew what had happened, and also knew that his spell would work. She hadn’t been dead long enough…it had to work.

Hein started to channel healing magic, praying to Moradin, though he was unsure if the god would answer him. Thankfully, the prayer was more of a formality. Hein had managed to harness enough of the holy magics of crafting to replicate the usual divine access to the weave. He could get enough out to heal…he could…

“You can’t die Rexi! You were the only good thing that came from this! Out of all of us here, you and that tortle were the ones who should have made it! Hells, you made me see past how much I hated Holder…and I didn’t think that was possible! Now breathe! Get up and save your friends!”

Rexi laid still for seconds, seconds in eternity. Hein’s mind was racing, looking for whatever would work, trying to find any loophole, any bargain short of infernal deals. Hein’s thoughts slowed when Rexi gasped.

Theril could hardly see out of his wounded eye. He had to escape, had to heal, and had to get away from the Five. Fighting them was foolish after all…but maybe he had prevailed. He was running down a dark hallway, one where the end was a score of figures. He could almost see the modrons, and hope they would allow him to pass.

As Theril ran closer, he felt his wounded eye heal. As it healed more, he could clearly see the modrons. Theril could already see them pull their teeth back. He started to slow, and as he did, the modrons started to march forward.

“Gods…what have I done…”

Azra advanced, only paying attention to the elf’s back. He got within range, and swung his sword. Theril’s head was severed, along with whatever effect he had to heal himself. Once the elf’s body hit the floor, Azra could see fully down the hallway. The modrons stopped upon seeing him.

Azra closed his eyes and roared, “I will annihilate any modrons that come before me! I will kill you all until I find her! Understand that as an order as true as one from your master!”

The modrons slowly closed their lips. Did they understand? Did they actually follow Azra’s orders? Before Azra could figure out what exactly happened, Ailia Symmette suddenly materialized from nowhere. She had both swords drawn, and had blood stained on her clothes. Despite this, Azra didn’t seem to care. He was almost in a state of shock.

“…Ailia…?”

The modrons were still as their master arrived…all except the flying ones. Azra couldn’t focus on the swarm of flying constructs above him, he could only see her.

Hein dumped most of his remaining magic into healing Rexi. He then helped her up. Rexi stared at him, with a strange look of overwhelming joy and confusion. She started to say something, but instead darted over towards Qresh. She grabbed Hein’s hand, and pulled him along.

“Heal him!” Rexi shouted, panic starting to fill her voice.

Hein glanced at Qresh, who despite his wounds, didn’t look like he was on death’s door. Qresh’s eyes looked tired, and he was holding his chest. Hein noticed the place he held his chest was oozing blood, and used the highest spell he had left to heal the wound. Hein chanted again with his hammer, and managed to seal the wound.

“Thank ye, dev…Hein…got stabbed through my stomach…I saw red when that bastard dropped Rexi.” Qresh growled.

Rexi tightly hugged Qresh, tears starting to well up in her eyes, but stopped hugging him when she saw it. Hein also saw them standing at the back of the very long hall. Modrons, and Symmette.

“We have to go…now…” Hein whispered.

Rexi looked down the hall to see Azra standing there. Hein knew what she would say.

“I don’t want to leave him…but I know he’s a good person. If we all attack her, we’ll die in this state. We need to get to the command center!” Hein whispered hoarsely.

Rexi looked up to Hein, then back over to Qresh. She strode over to where she had fallen, picked up her sword, and turned back to the two.

“Gods forgive us…I don’t want to leave him either but…he may be able to talk some sense into her…” Rexi said shakily.

“Faerun is at stake…and I know Azra has wanted this…gods forgive us indeed…” Hein responded.

“He’ll handle it…an if he can’t, bet you got some magic to reattach stone…ain’ ya?” Qresh asked.

Hein held up a brown-stained scroll, “I got it with the other scrolls, but let’s not stay around to find out.”

Azra glanced back at the group, and as if he could hear them, nodded in their direction.

“Azra Holder is a good person…he won’t join her…he’ll think of something…” Hein said, sounding strangely confident.

“He is…he is…” Rexi responded.

The flying modrons stopped hovering over Azra, turned to the Five, and started flying in their direction.

Hein casted the fly spell on Qresh, and then on himself. Hein made sure the last fly scroll was in his belt pouch before leaping off the ground. Qresh grabbed Rexi, and the two flew off.

******************************************************************************

Azra turned away from his friends, and back to her. He was staring at the object of his quest. Possibly the main reason he was alive. He was looking at Ailia Symmette, alive and well, and she stared back at him with a similar set of expressions. The modrons were standing still, though Azra could feel the wind from the flying ones soaring away.

“Ailia…please get them to stop…” Azra choked out, the words nearly getting caught in his throat.

“I-I cannot…” She replied, but didn’t just talk.

Symmette near tackled Azra in a hug. Azra was unaccustomed to this; the two never hugged. She had to be near-hysterical. Azra could feel both of her hearts beating violently. He had also forgotten about all the blood that was spattered on her.

“Azra…I…I can’t believe you’ve finally made your way to me!” Symmette screamed

“Of course I have made my way to you. I have been trying to contact you since…”

“Oh, I know! I know my love!” Symmette shouted, cutting him off.

“I have tried to get these stupid creatures to not attack you or the others! They’ve all gone mad…hardly listen to me!”

Azra pulled himself away from Symmette, looking her over. She was indeed crying, both sets of eyes puffy and red, some mucus coming out of one nose. This triggered something in his missing memory. He saw her, in the hand mirror, crying, but not like this. She was crying…trying not to…about something gravely important. Azra remembered her words.

“I-I am sorry. We in Automata try not to show emotions…but I am worried about our…”

The memory blurred, and Azra shook it away. He had to make this right. Azra grabbed Symmette by the arms, held her out, leaned closer to her, and looked at her in the eyes…all of them.

“Ailia…why is this happening? You know that a Pillar of Law cannot…”

“I had to find you!” She shouted, “This is what it took! I had to tear open reality itself to find you! To get you back!”

Azra started to piece it together. He realized that she had made a very big mistake. They would both be branded outlaws now, if she had stolen a Pillar of Law. Going back after this would risk them both imprisoned, or worse. Turning themselves in would be the proper thing to do…but Azra did not want to lose her again.

Before Azra could say anything, Symmette pulled out an orb. It was the same one Hein had.

“Listen…I can make this right. I can turn off this pillar. It isn’t going to do anything, not anything really. I just had it go through a sort of test run…just to see if it would draw you in. You and I…we aren’t like these primes…we’re special. I knew you would be drawn to it!” Aila screamed.

“Ailia…I was not drawn to it…I was taken by adventurers. They helped me get this far from the insane modrons, and we have to help them. Did you not know this? You spoke to them through the modrons.” Azra said with urgency.

Symmette looked confused, though her heads didn’t show the same expression. As if she were remembering something, her eyes grew wider.

“No…that was not me…they are doing that…mimicking me to lure people in…I don’t know why…” She stammered.

Azra picked out a small, very clean cloth from his belt. He started to wipe away the blood spatters on Symmette’s faces.

“Let us find a way to help the adventurers, then we can find a way to return home.” He said calmly.

Symmette smiled, only one of her heads was slower to react. It was highly unnerving to Azra.

“Yes, we will. When the tower stops, the modrons will stop. That is one of their prime orders, to halt if the tower does. I have the machine that Slatecutter ruined here…and was going to use it to put up an aura of symmetry from the tower. That would have certainly drawn you in…but the modrons…they corrupted it. They…fed people into it…and made them not right!” Symmette said.

Azra didn’t know how to respond. He had seen the modrons worship her, thought she was giving them orders. He had heard her voice through them, and now speaking to her, could see that Ailia wasn’t acting right. He didn’t think she had gone insane, or turned evil, but something was badly wrong with her.

“What is wrong? You are not moving or speaking right. What has happened to you?” Azra asked.

“This place…Azra it is warping me! I can’t live here like you…I’ll go mad! Please…we must hurry! I need you…I need the Sword of Automata! I need your blade! We can stop this tower together!” Symmette screamed frantically.

As this happened, Azra noticed how her mouths moved out of unison. He was starting to become truly afraid.

“Alright. We can go to the top and I will deactivate the tower. However, you must call off the modrons so I can save my friends.” Azra said intently.

“Azra there’s no time! I don’t know how long they will ignore the two of us! The adventurers can distract them just long enough to disactivate the tower! Please!” Symmette shrieked.

“No!” Azra shouted back. He gave her a brief shake, “Ailia, get ahold of yourself! Modrons must obey their superiors. You are the superior. You can command them to stop!”

Just shouting at her hurt Azra. Instead of respond, Ailia’s stare went dead. Both mouths dropped open, and she let out a near silent wail. Azra’s nerve broke almost instantly, and he let go of her arms.

“We will be quick, just get us to the top.” Azra said, trying not to sound harsh.

In a flash, the two arrived into a new location. It was not the top of the tower, but a very lavish room. Azra didn’t take the time to look around, and instead looked back to Symmette.

“We must do this first…I know the adventurers will come for me…come for us both!” Symmette said, sounding near hysterical.

“They will not, I will not let them. They trust me Ailia, please just listen.” Azra pleaded.

Symmette dug something out of her belt. It was a small eye lens, of clear Automatan make.

“Someone here was from our city. Hein had them killed! I found this lens in that maintenance room!” She screamed.

Symmette dropped the lens, and Azra watched it clank across the floor. He looked back over to her, panic clear on both of her faces, then nodded at her.

“Alright, do what you feel you must.”

She then held out both hands. Her and Azra vanished, Azra becoming so invisible, that he couldn’t even see his own hands. Usually, invisibility didn’t make the user invisible to himself. Symmette summoned a very, very, lifelike illusion. It was of her, holding Azra’s headless body, and walking to the room that had its doors closed in the real world.

When the illusion faded, the two were gone in another flash. The stood at the top of the tower. There was something Azra hadn’t remembered, a throne of sorts, positioned in the middle.

“I-I am sorry my love. Please, let us finish our work.” Ailia said, now starting to calm down.

Azra was unnerved to say the least about the disturbing illusion. He hesitantly took out Grovelthrash, and started to swing down. Ailia held up her hands to signal him to stop.

“Wait Azra. I must tell you more about how we can return home.” She said, now sounding normal and not hysterical.

Azra slowly pointed his sword back down, and started to listen. He had not forgotten about the others though.

“The modrons…” Azra said, trying to sound calm.

“They will no longer chase the others, observe…”

Symmette walked over to the throne, then sat down. Both sets of eyes glowed with golden light, and somehow, in a way Azra couldn’t explain, he felt that what she said had been true.

******************************************************************************

Hein and Qresh quickly got to the stairwell, but heard sounds like they were being followed.

“Remember, lead them to the trap!” Hein yelled.

“Ahead of ya, let me go last cause I’m slow!” Qresh yelled.

Hein slipped in front of Qresh, then looked back. As he did, he noticed the shadowy figures of winged modrons. Once they got up several levels, Hein looked back and nodded at Qresh. He slipped out the construct killer, then threw it.

The blade spun so fast, it appeared to be a solid disk. None of the three knew how many modrons were chasing them, but when the spinning sword fell, any modron it touched turned to dust. Hein ran numbers through his head. If the modrons stayed close, even if there was enough of them to fill the way up, the spinning sword would knock a large dent in their numbers.

Hein motioned the group to turn, and they did. They exited into another short hallway that led to a large metal door. It opened as Hein walked through into the command center. Hein gasped at the sight he saw, and ran over to spigot’s body. Hein started to fish out a revivify scroll, but on closer examination, realized that it was much too late. Spigot had to have died before they stopped Theril, his body felt cold. Hein also saw the remains of Dolidra, and the others, and nearly collapsed. Dolidra was the worst, as she had been cut into pieces.

Hein knelt down, examining Dolidra’s remains. The cuts were perfect…done by a weapon he was familiar with. Even worse, Symmette must have taken Dolidra’s eye lens.

Rexi walked over, and put a hand on Hein’s back. Hein gritted his teeth, stood up, then ran to the doorway. Hein stood there, waiting, then ran up to a stone on a pedestal. Rexi didn’t notice anything. Hein grabbed the scrying stone for a few moments, then cursed loudly.

“Nearly all of them…gone! She reversed my idea, actually led my men back into the choke point! I thought we had them surrounded…damn it all!”

“Can you see what happened…how many are left?” Rexi asked.

Hein stood in silence again, then let out a soft laugh.

“She doesn’t have much of an army anymore…thank the gods! Not only that, but the modrons in the room we were in have stopped. They aren’t trying to follow us!” Hein shouted.

“They probably all at that damn machine…maybe we can just get to the top an’ turn this all off…” Qresh growled.

Hein again bowed his head, “Attention all soldiers! You are all to report to the field station, and destroy all the modrons in sight.”

Hein spoke as he continued to scry, “They can keep the modrons busy. I don’t think the soldiers can make it on foot to the top, but certainly to the storage area. If the modrons don’t move, my soldiers can get to them. That isn’t all though. The top, the control, had no guards at all.”

“We’ll heal up, and fly up there…shit…no…we need Azra!” Hein shouted.

“I forgot! I…”

“We all forgot Hein…and we will obviously rescue Azra!” Rexi responded.

Hein stopped again. He spoke, only his voice sounding more soft, more safe.

“Rexi, I know where Azra is.”

Hein could see Symmette walking towards a metallic room, somehow pulling Azra’s headless body with her. She was alone, and had no modrons with her.

“She’s killed Azra…but doesn’t have his sword. She’s alone in what looks like a small metal room inside of a larger one, like a prison cell. There are no guards in the bigger room at all.”

Rexi let out a squeak of fear. Qresh growled. Hein looked away from the stone at the two.

“She cut off his head, which we can reattach. I can pump all the magic I have left into us, heal everything, and use that rod if I run out. It’ll be enough. We use the orb to teleport to her, and end her right now! Without her to guide them, the modrons won’t be a threat anymore!” Hein shouted.

He did just that, in mere moments, the three were completely combat ready. The rod had enough charges to regain all of Rexi’s spells as well. Hein checked, and knew that it had a small amount of magic before it ran fully out.

“After we deal with Symmette, we can heal Azra. I just hope to the gods that he understands.” Hein said

Qresh nodded, and looked down at Rexi. She smiled, then picked up her sword. Now they could save the world without leaving anyone behind.