The Modron Mutiny

Prelude

Dreams of Hell and Silent Seas

The rakshasa’s eyes never faltered. Every time Hein was in its presence, its gaze stayed locked on him. Its gaze was unblinking. The thing’s yellow eyes looked exactly like those of a great cat, and no matter how dark it was, the pupils always stayed narrow slits.

Being in the presence of a fiend was bad enough, but the rakshasa always surrounded itself with slaves. Hein would have expected this in the Nine Hells, but it was their attitude that really disturbed him. They all were, or appeared to be, very comfortable. That was the biggest problem with this fiend, this animal-headed monster called a rakshasa; it took slaves and made them willing to serve.

As Hein approached the panther-like humanoid, his eyes locked on a pair of slaves drooling at the foot of the fiend’s chair. The fiend’s disturbingly calm voice rattled Hein back to attention.

“Please, tell me Artificer General, how has your progress been?” It said with an assuring and all-too-human voice.

Its voice sounded like the most confident courtier imaginable. It had no hint of the fiend’s monstrous origins, and almost sounded fatherly.

“Lord Jalakara…” Hein uttered in a shaky tone.

After addressing the fiend, Hein didn’t answer right away. The tiefling was still staring at the two women near the Rakshasa’s sides. Both women looked intoxicated on some sort of vapor; they probably didn’t even know where they were. The expression of serenity they held on their faces was what terrified Hein. He knew that they were disposable. Hein was somehow sure that those blissful expressions would stay plastered on their faces no matter what fate befell them.

Hein wasn’t a slave here. He was invited by this fiend, and had lived in luxury he couldn’t have dreamed of. Taking a job in the lower planes was almost always reserved for the evil or desperate. It never ended without some kind of great loss, usually of one’s soul. Despite all of this, Hein had seemingly done it without consequence. He had acquired knowledge beyond anything he could imagine. Hein had been able to craft devices he could have never done without the knowledge he acquired in this place; devices that would be the envy of any tinker in his old home.

The rakshasa didn’t even demand anything. Hein had been worried from the start that his soul would have become forfeit. He even hired a barrister to look over the fiend’s contract. The rakshasa wanted nothing but honest work. Hein had already given up his clan. He had become something more than he once was, and could never go back now. Maybe that sacrifice was all?

Despite all the lack of ill intent, Hein couldn’t look at those slaves and wonder if that would be his fate. Would he become like them? Intoxicated, happy beyond imagination…but reduced to a mere sheep that could be slaughtered at any moment?

After taking far too long to think, Hein finally answered the monster.

“The prosthesis’s have been successful, although duplicating them exactly will be a challenge. It would be better to just make them based on what is needed instead of a perfect match to each side.”

The rakshasa nodded; its panther face had its dark lips curled into a smile. The things face was so reassuring; Hein could see how some people didn’t recognize these creatures as fiends.

“A challenge I am sure you can meet? You have the intellect now, do you not?”

The tiefling could feel sweat bead on his forehead. He knew the fiend wasn’t threatening him, but hated being in its presence.

“Arms and legs aren’t hard to make. Organs, especially more complicated ones, won’t be so easy. Matching legs wouldn’t be too difficult sure, but eyes and…”

A lump in Hein’s throat made him stammer.

“Cognition organs will be very difficult…”

The Rakshasa just smiled more; it leaned in as if it were excited about something.

“Artificer General! I am very pleased hearing this! You may have stumbled, but alas, I can deliver you from this pitfall once again.”

Hein knew better. He tensed his body, and tried his best not to flinch at what might happen.

The Rakshasa reached over to one of his slaves. The thing’s inverted hands, with the palms on the back, grabbed the girl on his right. The rakshasa cupped her head gently, almost playfully, then his other hand used a clawed finger to trace over the center of her head.

Hein had to stop himself from screaming once the woman’s skull suddenly became visible under the tranced line, which divided deeper into the pulpy flesh of her brain.

Darkness was the only thing that greeted Hein after the nightmare. He felt almost as if he were under water. Again, the rakshasa spoke, though Hein saw nothing. He just felt his body suspended in some kind of fluid.

“Clan Slatecutter made such a poor mistake. Alas, you will always be welcome to serve me…”

A twinkling light caused Hein to lose the dream. Hein was, somehow, underwater, and a strange light was being scattered from the water’s surface. This had to be another dream, or something close enough to one.

Hein was forced to the sea’s surface of this not-quite-dream. He was indeed in some kind of sea, and although he didn’t feel like he was dreaming, something was very wrong about this situation. For reasons he couldn’t explain, Hein couldn’t comprehend it all…the whole scenario was too strange. Perhaps it was a dream? People often lose coherent thoughts in dreams, and end up doing things that seem pointless in the waking world.

This didn’t answer Hein’s question of where exactly he was, though he knew he was at the surface of the ocean…perhaps an ocean would be more accurate. The water was fairly warm, but it was so inky black Hein couldn’t see his body while at the surface. There were no waves either, which made the ocean look truly vast. There were moons, two moons, hovering in the sky. This was the source of the pale light that made Hein’s surroundings possible to see. Only a thin bank of fog obscured Hein’s vision to what he assumed to be into infinity. This wasn’t any ocean he was familiar with on Faerun…

Before Hein could get his bearings, he saw a ship float towards him from the mists. It had no sail, and glided across the water as if propelled by an unseen force. There were lights on this ship, which at least explained something about this strange place. The light from this ship was what pulled Hein from his dream. From what Hein could see, the ship was adorned with several small bottles that held some sort of glowing gas or fluid.

As Hein was treading water, the approaching ship let out a droning sound. It sounded like a high-pitched hum that changed its tone beautify, almost like a violin. The sound was too organic to be from an instrument, and considering Hein’s location, he didn’t ask any questions about it.

The ship continued toward Hein, and somehow stopped just a few feet from him. Hein saw a rope ladder flail off the edge of the ship. As the ladder tumbled down, Hein could see a dwarf standing on the ship’s deck.

“Ahoy! Grab that ladder an’ get up here, the boss wants a word with ye!”

The dwarf’s accent sounded exactly like a pirate, though Hein could see that he had none of the usual adornments. The dwarf was wearing finely crafted leather clothes and looked to be unarmed. His long black beard had specks of gray, though Hein couldn’t tell if it was the beard’s color or patches of salt.

The tiefling reached out a hand, his only hand, to grab the rope ladder. Hein didn’t have his prosthetic in this world, which was something strange but not pressing enough for him to panic. Despite this, Hein climbed up the ladder with a surprising speed. Once at the top of the ship, the dwarf helped him onto the deck.

Hein was short for a tiefling; only a head taller than the dwarf. He was also completely black, which made his form difficult to see in the gloom of the strange ocean. Hein was used to dwarves being either suspicious or outright hostile towards him. This dwarf didn’t appear to have no ill will whatsoever, and looked to be in a fairly good mood. Once lifted onto the boat, the dwarf attempted to wipe some of the water off of Hein.

Hein started to stop the dwarf, before the dwarven sailor tossed away his rag and grabbed Hein by the shoulders.

“Clan Slatecutter shouldn’t have let you go!” The dwarf growled as his smile faded.

This jarred Hein to say the least, but the stupor of this not-quite-dream stopped any protests he might have had.

“Don’t scare him Captain Saltrock; I need him as coherent as possible.” A calm voice echoed out from the cabin.

Hein took a step back out of the dwarf’s grip, and started to walk towards the ship’s cabin. Despite the fact that the interior had more illumination than the outside, the windows obscured a clear view of what exactly was in the cabin. This changed almost immediately when Hein stepped into the doorway. Inside the cabin was a menagerie of glass boxes and bottles. Most held what appeared to be fish preserved in fluid. These weren’t like any fish Hein had ever seen; all teeth, no visible scales, and stranger still, some had lights growing out of them. The glass boxes held living versions of the preserved fish, which became obvious to Hein when he saw their blinking lights and heard their hisses.

All the fish stopped hissing and snapping their teeth when Hein looked up to the lone figure in the room. The short thin man was wearing what looked like a tarred apron, along with gloves one would use for alchemy projects. He was stooped over the remains of a flayed nightmare fish, a man-sized version, and was prodding at its insides with a scalpel.

“Mister Slatecutter…you were not an easy man to reach.”

The water on Hein’s inky black skin shone brightly as he studied the man. Despite the strangeness of this place, once he saw this man, somehow Hein knew that this wasn’t just a dream. Hein could think coherently now. Whoever this strange man was, he had just pulled Hein out of a very personal nightmare.

Hein’s wide mouth twisted in a snarl, “Why did you take me here! What do you want!”

After Hein yelled at the man, the interior of the cabin became more dim. It wasn’t as dark as the deck of the ship, but it was dark enough to make the lights coming off the fish glow brighter. Despite this, Hein could clearly see the strange man that stood over the monstrous fish. He was short, thin, and appeared to have gray skin. The man had neatly combed hair, and was wearing gray leather clothing that was darker than his skin. The only piece of his attire that stood out was the black scarf wrapped around his neck.

As the man turned away to look at Hein, Hein saw that this man’s strangest features were his mouth and eyes. The man’s eyes were almost solid black, and his seemingly human mouth held, now thankfully closed, splits that went along the length of his jaw. Hein could picture this man’s mouth opening much wider than that of a normal person. This man’s teeth were all sharp triangles, all being an exact match to the teeth of a shark.

The man in the black scarf held a look of sadness on his face. He didn’t speak immediately, but did stop prodding the fish.

“I don’t need much of your time, but you must listen to what I have to say.”

Although Hein could tell the black-scarfed man wasn’t going to hurt him, Hein was still wary.

“How do you and your captain know my old name? What is this place?”

The man in the black scarf sighed, jabbed his scalpel into the fish where it stuck upright, then started to take off his apron.

“This is a place we can talk without interference; where our conversation will be far from anyone trying to pry. I know of your former employers, and know that you are martialing an army near Chult. I think you may be confused.”

Hein’s eyes, which were just as black as the man in the black scarf’s, opened as wide as possible.

“You know about them! What do you know about those lunatics from the Gate Town? Did they get you to start their invasion? Did you help put their tower in the sea? Why in the Nine Hells would you grab me and tell me this?”

The man in the black scarf took a step back, and put up his hands as if trying to calm Hein down.

“It’s alright, I’m not trying to hurt you or anyone else, quite the opposite. The magistrate of Automata sent me a very strange message, one that hinted of coming destruction. I’m trying to warn you. Your old employers from Automata…those people you despise and whatever you think they’re planning…they aren’t responsible. If anything, they want it to be avoided.”

The man in the black scarf looked directly at Hein, though he looked more afraid than surprised.

“I know that people from a lawful plane aren’t going to invade the Prime Material Plane. Think about this, why would they want to break so many laws for a flawed idea of order? An invasion makes absolutely no logical sense.”

Hein could feel his once wet clothes start to dry. He instinctively reached for his sword, but again realized that he was disarmed here. Hein still had magic, though he doubted the shark-like man wanted a fight. If he was working with them though, he had to be insane.

“So, there is an attack! I knew it! You’re working for them, aren’t you? You’re another slave of the palindrome!”

The man in the black scarf shook his head. Though he looked calm, his voice now held some hostility.

“I don’t work for anyone. Despite how contradictory this may sound, everyone is a slave to something. You’re a slave to your own delusion, a delusion much more dangerous than symmetry or following the rules.”

Hearing the man say “symmetry” caused Hein to turn and leave the cabin. Hein didn’t have a problem turning his back to the man and leaving. Despite the man in the black scarf looking monstrous, Hein somehow knew that the man meant him no harm. As Hein left, he heard the man in the black scarf shout after him.

“Mister Slatecutter…whatever happens just know that your old employers aren’t your enemy. I’ll see you again once I learn more.”

“And I’ll see you in Hell,” Hein muttered before running to the edge of the boat. The dwarf Hein had previously seen was watching, but didn’t look to be intent on stopping him. He watched almost sadly as Hein dove off the boat and into the black water. Once Hein hit the water, he was jostled back into the waking world.

The man in the black scarf exited the cabin, and looked over to the captain of his ship. The dwarf glanced over at him with one eye wide.

“Ain’t gonna be easy makin’ him see reason, is it?” The dwarf grunted out.

The man in the black scarf let out a soft sigh as he trotted over to the edge of his boat.

“If it was easy, someone else would do it.

Chapter One

The Shore

Hein woke up, like he had so many mornings, sweating and in a panic. He didn’t scream, but still had trouble not throwing himself out of his bed. Hein felt his left arm itch again, as it did every time he had nightmares. He looked at the missing stump on his forearm, and slumped down to retrieve his primary prosthetic hand. Hein’s remaining hand wasn’t normal though, and was backwards facing, just like the devil in his dream.

Hein had two replacement hands, one that was a simple, two-hooked grasping claw, and the other one. The other one was a massive, machine-like device that looked like an armored gauntlet the size of a halfling. As Hein put on his simpler one, the clawed hand sat perched on its fingers in the floor at the end of his bed. The claws on its fingertips looked like long daggers.

As he rose, Hein sent a mental command to the hand. Standing motionless on its claw-tips, the hand quickly came to life. It moved like a spider to Hein’s position in less than a second. Hein, still wearing his sleeping clothes, commanded it to attach over his more simplistic replacement hand.

Once the wrist section of the gauntlet clamped onto the smaller prosthetic, Hein spun around and shambled up to his mirror. For a ship cabin, even a captain’s cabin, the room was rather cramped. Hein had all sorts of machinery scattered around the area; no surface was safe from the encroaching horde of machine parts. One of the few easily identifiable structures in the room, aside from the bed, was this mirror. It was tall, nearly reaching the ceiling, and about three feet wide.

Hein was significantly shorter than the mirror. He was only about two inches over five feet, and not well muscled. Despite this he had wide shoulders, and didn’t look as willowy as the average tinker. Hein was thin, but appeared to have thick bones.

The tiefling was also solid black from head to toe. Hein’s skin, hair, and even eyes were pitch-black. His unkept hair, due its coal black color that matched his skin, seemed to blur with it, and always looked to be covering his eyes. Hein’s eyes were solid black orbs, that looked like those of a mouse.

The only thing that stood out from his complexion was his teeth. Hein’s teeth were large, square, uniform, and were just off white enough to stand out. Hein’s mouth was larger than average as well, almost oddly so. This didn’t bother Hein, as being a tiefling gave one several “oddlies” to deal with.

Hein’s horns were small and asymmetric, with the one on the right being bigger and curling in more. Both horns curved inward like a classic depiction of a devil, and did not disfigure Hein’s brow ridge or face. Hein had a square, strongly built face that stood out from his body.

Hein held up his large gauntlet as if it weighed nothing, and did a sort of inspection on it. After making sure everything on the claw was working, Hein commanded his massive hand to drop off. It landed on its claw-tips and stood in place as Hein started to change clothes.

Just as he slipped into his working pants, the mirror changed. Instead of being reflective, the mirror held the image of another person. It was no longer fully reflective, and now only focused on the image now held inside it.

The image was that of a gnome, who looked like the typical gnomish tinker. He had brown hair peppered with gray, a mutton chop beard, and what looked like overly black ink smeared onto random spots of his face.

“Good news sir! The structure was plenty sound before we set up shop! I didn’t find any traps on the levels we’re occupying either!”

Hein was half ignoring the gnome, and instead was trying his best to find a reflection in the mirror. Hein slipped on his work shirt, then wrapped his tail around his waist. Hein’s tail was long and featureless like that of a cat.

“Have the soldiers reported anything from the lower levels?” Hein half shouted as he dug in a nearby drawer for something unseen.

The gnome wiped off his greasy hands onto the many-pocketed coveralls he was wearing.

“Well sir, they can only show us what they walk past. So far, this entire complex is abandoned. We haven’t been able to explore the lower levels, but the upper ones are completely unoccupied. There aren’t any traps that have been set off or found yet, and stranger still, this place looks to be made for royalty. It’s all one metal and everything is measured in exact lengths and widths. This stuff is the work of mathematicians, and it just rose out of the sea in a day.”

Hein used his false hand to reach deeper into the drawer, and pulled out what looked like a hand mirror.

“I guess we got really lucky huh?” Hein muttered with no enthusiasm.

The gnome chuckled, almost too high pitched, and gave a sort of shrug.

“I’m just happy to be here sir! If we didn’t get to the tower before the minotaurs did, we could have been in real trouble.”

Hein laughed as he examined the closed hand mirror. The thing’s craftsmanship was unparalleled. It had a series of gears both painted and engraved on it, and each gear’s teeth were precisely carved. Hein switched it into his regular, backwards facing hand, and tumbled it through his fingers like a coin.

“The minotaurs are scared of magic. If they attacked, it would be their undoing.”

The gnome laughed harder this time, “I suppose so, but I don’t want it to come to that! Should we have the uh…soldiers scout out the lower reaches yet sir?”

Hein stopped flipping the mirror, then looked directly at the gnome, “No, just have them on standby. We need to be ready to turn away adventurers; they’re starting to realize that there isn’t a treasure for them to look for anymore. If any of the soldiers see a modron, I don’t care how insignificant it may be have them swarm and destroy it.”

The gnome saluted before the image faded from sight. Hein glanced at the mirror, and let out an irate sigh. Hein liked the workers he had for this undertaking, but he knew they didn’t really understand what kind of threat could be coming. They were hired adventurers after all, ones that acted trustworthy enough. Hein knew that adventurers who carried holy symbols of good gods usually were trustworthy, so long as they only had one symbol and not a tangled multitude of them.

Hein paced to the back of his cabin. He didn’t even know the exact location of this place. The journey started far enough away, in Chult and through its savage jungles. Off its coast there was an island…or technically two islands, which held the legend of a great treasure. Hein had been with the group who found that treasure, the whole ordeal was a tale in itself.

Hein had used funds from both this, and the payment for his last job to fund what they were doing now. It was ironic that it would undo what he had done with his former employers. The one’s from Automata. The whole reason Hein had gone to find that treasure was to prevent the alleged massive number of magical items and power from falling into the wrong hands. Hein’s former employers had an evil machine, a machine he had helped build before he guessed their intentions.

This tower was composed of the same; sickeningly familiar, bronze Hein had seen one too many times. The tower was unoccupied, and shortly after it appeared, Hein assembled all the adventurers he could. Hein started to mass acquire “soldiers” which were constructs under his command; suits of asymmetric animated armor, twisted clay golems, and the most fearsome of all were the painted clones Hein had designed after himself.

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The speaking mirror flickered back on as Hein started to open his hand mirror. It was the gnome again, who had a look concern mixed with fear. The gnome hesitated before speaking this time.

“Sir…I’m sorry to bother you again, but I had a question…” The gnome stammered out.

It was strange that he was afraid, as usually the Gnome’s demeanor was cheerful.

“You never bother me Spigot, what’s your question?” Hein said diverting his attention away from his hand mirror.

Spigot looked at Hein as if he were afraid to say anything, but continued.

“Who is it that may be coming here? You mentioned a construct army, but haven’t told us much. The others don’t really care, but I’ve been thinking about this a lot sense we got to the tower.”

Hein smiled, though his grin seemed to not reassure the gnome, “I didn’t want to scare you Spigot, but I suppose it has been long enough. There’s no use waiting to explain myself now.”

Hein sat the mirror down and walked up closer to the one that held the gnome’s image.

“I told you the army would probably be modrons, right?”

The gnome just nodded, his look of worry not diminishing.

“In the outer planes, there are whole cities of people who try to emulate certain planes. I worked in a city that was like Mechanus, the plane of absolute law. What lives in Mechanus? Well, modrons, automatons, clockworks, inevitables…you already know all this.”

As Hein spoke, he paced around the cabin, “So in some of these cities you’ll have people, if they’re close to the Hells, emulate demons. They’ll act conniving, a lot are tieflings, they use evil magics, and most behave like crooked lawyers. So, if you have a city of people, people obsessed with law to the point of madness, how could they perfectly emulate things like clockworks? They certainly can’t turn into them, and I’m sure you can guess it wouldn’t end with just acting like modrons.”

The gnome’s look of worry grew, “Maybe prosthetics…but that would be too mad…”

He looked at Hein, who’s grin had yet to fade.

“Mad, yes. Too mad though, these people don’t have a concept of that. No, they aren’t lobbing their arms off…in most instances…but while I was in such a city, a place called Automata, the engineers there had a machine. It was called the Symmetry Synchronizer, and as you could guess, made things symmetrical.

Hein paced back over to his desk and pulled out an iron nail. He switched it over to his false hand, which gripped it with a clank, and pulled out another object. This was a warped piece of metal piping. It was straight, up until the end where it frayed into a ragged fork.

“See this nail? Doesn’t it look symmetrical to you?”

Spigot nodded, looking at both tools with the same look of concern he had since asking Hein this question.

“Of course…” Hein’s grin faded as he tossed the nail back to his desk. Immediately after throwing away the nail, Hein held out the pipe.

“What about this?” Hein tried to show off the damaged pipe, almost looking angry as he thrusted it in the gnome’s direction.

“It’s all messed up…not like the nail.” The gnome said warily.

Hein tossed the pipe away with an even louder clank, and took a few steps toward the mirror.

“See, in that city, such a thing was unthinkable. People had to act lawful, to follow all the rules, and they had to look the part too. That isn’t all though, in that city, the nail I showed you would be too flawed. Everything was too flawed for them.”

“You see, that devilish machine would make things symmetrical, but not in such an easy way of changing one side to match the other. That pipe had two frays on each side, so the machine would duplicate two more on the other side to match.”

Hein looked at the gnome expectantly. He could practically hear the metaphorical gears in Spigot’s head turning.

“Did that machine work on living things, or just objects?” Spigot half shouted.

“It worked on anything that could fit inside it.” Hein said rather grimly.

The gnome’s eyes widened as Hein turned away from the mirror.

“So if, let’s say, someone put in a mouse in that machine, a mouth with a damaged front foot on one side. That mouse would come out with four front feet, one damaged, and a new undamaged one. Not to mention duplicates of anything else asymmetrical…”

Hein turned back to the horrified gnome. Spigot looked away, rubbed his eyes, then gazed back into the mirror.

“Was this machine big enough to fit people inside it?”

Hein shook his head, “No, but that’s not what worries me. The machine could be replicated, anything can there. What scares me is that a bronze tower that looks like it came from Mechanus suddenly pops up out of the sea…right where I finished adventuring.

Spigot just sat down on what Hein assumed to be a crate in the undefined background.

“Do you think they’re tracking you? Do you think they need you for the machine to function…or to make you more perfect?”

Spigot stopped with his mouth open, then put a hand over his mouth

“W-wait…does this Automata place want to make people like that…wouldn’t it just make…”

“Abominations.” Hein flatly said.

“Do they want to come here, to Faerun?! Do they want to do that to people?” Spigot sputtered out, trying and failing to hide his panic.

Hein didn’t smile, and didn’t immediately respond. He shook his head, looked down at his split hooves, and then looked back up to the gnome.

“One of the leaders of Automata is an arcanist. Arcanists always strive for power. I don’t know for sure, but honestly that is the only reason I can see the machine being made. Her reasoning made no sense. She mainly wanted the machine to make food symmetrical, because the holes inside bread scared her…and despite how stupid that sounds I am telling the absolute truth.”

Spigot the gnome looked a little less afraid as he scratched his beard.

“Modrons also don’t really run out, once one dies another one takes its place. They keep a constant number. This does sound bad, but is it really safe to assume all this? Do you have any way of contacting them and asking? I mean the people there can’t lie…”

“I’m not wrong!” Hein snapped. “Besides, one of the leaders was an abomination herself. You need to trust my judgement on this. It is the pattern of all arcanists with power, and this city has more power and reach than most of us can imagine.”

Hein briefly looked over his shoulder, out the window to the sea, then turned back to the mirror.

“What really frightens me though Spigot, is what if they made a bigger, more advance machine? What if they had a way to make this entire world symmetrical? Could you imagine it? A world divided and mirrored on a line? The damage would be unthinkable…”

Spigot just nodded, “Well, we have to make sure that doesn’t happen! I’ll see you again if we find anything!”

Spigot gave Hein a salute, and with a nervous grin, vanished from the mirror’s surface.

Hein shook his head, walked over to a closet, and as he opened the doors, a suit of armor folded out and clamped to his body with no visible force propelling it. Now fully suited in a strange suit of square scale plates, and rubber membranes, Hein turned back to the hand mirror and started walking towards it. He commanded his claw to reattach to his missing hand, and opened the mirror with his normal hand. Hein could have sworn, for a brief second, he saw two sets of blue and white eyes glaring at him from the broken mirror.

Hein clasped the thing shut; probably a little too hard and fast, and quickly shook himself after. He turned over his shoulder, and looked out the window of his cabin. Hein’s ship was in port right beside the tower’s entrance.

Hein smiled again seeing the scene. If Hein was correct, and in his own mind he always was, this tower was Automata’s first move. Despite that, they hadn’t been very efficient at it.

“Spigot was right to doubt me,” Hein said to himself, “He was…but no one alive would be crazy enough to spend hundreds of thousands of gold just to make food symmetrical!”

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

Crashing waves was the first sound he recognized. The wet sand was the second.

The sand…

…the dirty sand…

…the dirty, gritty, fishy, foul-smelling sand…

Somehow, he could smell it without breathing. Breathing here would be bad, being half in the water and half in the sand…and he only had to breathe to smell…

…smell…in the sand…

He started to vomit…but something inside him changed. Instead, he spat out fire.

Rexi wasn’t enjoying the horizon tonight. That damned tower had erupted from the ocean only a day after her and her crew had barely managed to survive the island ruins. Going underwater was bad enough, but Rexi and her crew nearly had to return to Chult just to get supplies in order to breathe down there. Information on these islands was sparse at best, and most just came with all the equipment they could carry with little to no planning. Rexi wasn’t like that, though her planning did her little good. Right after Rexi watched their former cleric get carried off by monstrous fish-men, her crew found out that the treasure had been found some time ago.

Rexinaleadal, or more typically known as “Rexi” by nearly everyone who wasn’t a gnome, was upset to say the least. The island was now full of adventurers either looking for treasure scraps, or drearily going back to their boats. She had hoped to escape the chaos if only briefly, but instead of the calm sounds of the ocean, Rexi was greeted with an explosion.

There weren’t many people on the island’s beach, but the few people present all saw this. A small, man-sized section of the sand exploded. At this spot of the beach, where the surf was gently coming in, there was an explosion of steam and chunks of what looked like molten glass.

Now standing in a crater of glass was a statue. The white statue looked like one that belonged in a museum, that or in the private collection of a noble. It looked exactly like a person, complete with carved hair, eye pupils, and teeth. The only difference here was that statues typically didn’t move. That or apparently breathe fire. Steam was still streaming from the statue man’s mouth.

The statue man was about six feet, possibly shorter, but it was hard to tell while standing in the wet sand. He looked to be in good shape, as much as someone who regularly exercised, but didn’t have the broad physique of the usual soldier. He wasn’t bad looking, for a human, but his facial features matched a little too well. The man’s face was symmetrical enough to notice, and even his hair was cut with it rising a little more in the center as it pointed down near his forehead.

The statue man was wearing armor, though it didn’t look magical or ornate. The studded leather looked average at best, but was symmetrical, like the rest of the man. He was also armed with a gear-shaped shield, and a short but heavy blade. It was a sword that was defiantly used for cutting, but it lacked the false edge that pointed up like a scimitar. It looked far too utilitarian to be called that.

Rexi nearly collapsed after hearing the blast. She ran in its direction as fast as her short gnomish legs would carry her. The gnome ran surprisingly quickly for wearing full plate. The armor was expertly made, and the plates moved against each other seamlessly and she ran to the strange scene.

The shining metal was accented by what looked like a knight chess piece coming out of her right shoulder. This pauldron was painted red, which complemented the gnome’s long red hair. Her hair was done up in a ponytail possibly as long as her body, but near the top of her head. It stuck out through the woman’s armor, and looked more like a red plume than actual hair.

Rexi came upon the scene quicker than she expected. She saw the human statue standing near the edge of the crater. The statue then started to cough, apparently not satisfied with whatever breath weapon it somehow was in possession of. The whole spectacle was immensely fascinating to Rexi, but she noticed that not everyone around felt that way.

Most of the adventurers had run off farther down the beach after hearing the blast, but there were a few of the island’s natives coming to investigate the scene. There were minotaurs on this island that hated magic to the point of killing anyone being seen using it. Seeing a living statue vaporize and melt sand would undoubtedly draw them.

Rexi wasn’t sure, but this statue man’s confused expression told her that he wasn’t just some mindless golem. The minotaurs were much closer than her though. Rexi could hear two out of the three muttering to each other, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

The minotaur in the center of the group was large, even for minotaur standards. He was possibly ten feet tall, and had one horn that looked too long for his head. The other horn had been cut off, and had a metal cap on it. The large black minotaur was the only armored one out of the three, who wore a light suit of mail and carried a massive hammer.

“Who dares release magic on our island!” The minotaur bellowed in Common.

Rexi started to charge, but the statue man’s reaction stopped her. The statue man spun around, still looking confused, but he didn’t look at the minotaur as Rexi expected. She noticed that his face moved like flesh, and his face twisted in disgust rather than fear.

The statue man didn’t bother to draw his sword. He pointed at the minotaur’s knobbed horn, almost as if he were gawking at it.

“What happened to your horn?!” The statue man shouted in a perfectly human voice.

Both minotaurs looked at their leader, who appeared to have lost his ability to speak.

The statue man continued, “Who did that to you? Why would you walk around in front of people with one horn? Are you simple minded, blind, or are you just too out of your facilities to care?”

Even though Rexi could tell the man was in danger, the whole scene was too strange. This stranger was borderline chastising a group of hostile minotaurs as if they were children. This human was defiantly brave. Well…that or crazy…or both.

The minotaurs didn’t answer. They were completely shocked. Rexi had the feeling the two minotaurs helping the bigger one couldn’t understand everything the man was saying. The larger minotaur just readied his hammer, and prepared to swing it down.

“Death it is then!” The minotaur roared out.

He didn’t get a chance to swing though. Rexi saw the statue man draw and swing his sword, but the motion was so fluid that it was the sort of thing that could be missed if one blinked. The minotaur’s long horn dropped into the sand, and matched the other horn perfectly in length, save for the metal cap.

“Death? I fixed your horn! Are you inbred, or just insane?”

The statue man now had his sword ready. The tone of his voice had changed from scolding to rage fairly quickly. Rexi now knew she couldn’t just stand by. Even if the statue had insulted them, that or casting magic certainly wasn’t deserving of death.

The bigger minotaur started to swing again, but the statue was again faster. This time though, his strikes were much less forgiving. Rexi did blink, and did miss the statue man’s swings. She saw the minotaur ready his massive hammer one second, then noticed the beast’s skull split along with the haft of his hammer.

The other two minotaurs charged. Both ran at the man, stupidly rushing in horns first. The man decapitated one as they both charged forward, but something stopped him from hitting the second. Rexi missed what it was, but the minotaur did manage to ram him.

The statue man was, in fact, a stone statue. He didn’t fly down the beach like a normal human made of meat would, and only got knocked to the ground. After charging, Rexi noticed the thing lift up its axe. In the short window of time, she had before she got into combat range, Rexi noticed the statue man wasn’t fighting, or even paying attention to the attack. He was swatting at his shield with the flat of his blade, trying to remove what appeared to be minotaur snot from the shield.

Before the minotaur’s axe could find purchase, Rexi intercepted the strike. Her longsword, which looked like a greatsword to her, parried the blow without breaking her stance. The sword tilted down, but stopped and held the axe. The short, stocky gnome was strong enough to take the brute of the blow with what appeared to be surprisingly little trouble.

The minotaur didn’t have time to wonder who or what stopped his attack. Rexi flourished her blade, causing the axe to be bent away, and lunged her sword into the minotaur’s stomach. She aimed it up into the base of his ribcage, reaching as high as she could as she thrusted the blade in, and could practically feel the beast die before it hit the ground.

Rexi sidestepped the fallen minotaur, pulling out her sword as she did, and sheathed it on the special scabbard she had on her back. The statue man had finished cleaning his shield, and was now trying to dust off any sand on his body.

Rexi pulled off her helmet, and gave the man a friendly grin.

“I’ve never seen a statue do anything like that! You must have an interesting story to tell!”

The statue man didn’t immediately stop dusting off the sand from his body, or acknowledge Rexi, but his attention was gathered in a few seconds. When he turned to face Rexi, he stopped in place and stared at her teeth. Rexi’s two front teeth were larger than the rest, but not to the point of looking odd. Rexi smiled wider, but the man just stared more, and even sloped his posture to do so.

“You almost let that minotaur cut your arm off! Maybe next time be more careful. I don’t know if healers can reattach a statue’s arms.”

Rexi was half serious, and just wanted the man to speak. He only stared.

The two’s meeting would have been broken by what happened next. Suddenly, a whole minotaur was thrown into the sand right next to the statue man. Rexi jumped back, nearly drawing her sword as she did before she realized it was done by an ally. The statue man was still staring at her teeth, his gaze only broken by the spattering of sand hitting him from the giant minotaur.

“Hmm…this one ain’t gonna tell nobody ‘bout our magic. I’ll start pullin’ teeth if he does.”

The gravelly, half-growling voice came from Rexi’s closest ally, a tortle called Qresh. The lumbering swordsman strode right past Rexi and the statue man, and was solely focused on the fallen minotaur. Qresh was a gray-brown color, and unlike most tortles, Qresh resembled a snapping turtle more than a tortoise.

Qresh had one clawed hand open, bared in a sort of fighting pose as his other held a long but thick cutlass. Qresh wore nothing but a pair of sailor’s pants, and a leather harness that was held onto his body by gripping the lower part of his shell in a loop, on the edge where it touched his back.

Qresh slowly and methodically made his way to the minotaur. As he did, his lizard-like tail made a furrow in the wet sand. Qresh ground his hooked beak together, letting out a low growl as he often did before he spoke.

“Hmm…you ain’t thinkin’ ‘bout runnin’ off in the woods an’ gettin’ help are you?”

The minotaur looked shocked more than scared. It also appeared to be disarmed, though the three quickly learned that wasn’t the case.

The minotaur drew a dagger from his boot in a flash, and tossed it at Qresh. Resembling the human statue, Qresh batted the dagger away with a speed that was almost supernatural. Before the minotaur could recognize what had happened, he had Qresh’s sword at his throat. Despite being deceptively sharp, the blade’s edge was worn and had a slight jagged look to it.

“I don’t think I outta just kill ‘em, but we can’t let him get the rest…”

Qresh growled again, and used his free hand to scratch under his chin. Rexi took her gaze off the statue man, who was now violently fidgeting to remove the spattered sand from his body. She trotted up to the tortle and minotaur, and put her hand on her sword’s hilt as she did.

“We don’t have to kill him. That is, assuming you understand me…”

Rexi glared at the minotaur, who at this point was wide-eyed and attentive.

“You aren’t going to get more of your kind are you? If we spare you, we will not see an army of minotaurs shortly rush our boat will we?”

Rexi glared at the frightened beast. Being only a fraction of its size, the scene looked a little silly.

“I know your people claim magic to be outlawed, but you can’t just kill anyone you see that looks magical.”

Rexi could tell the minotaur understood her, and also knew he looked frightened.

“Magic is against the law here?” Rexi heard the statue man ask.

Rexi relaxed her grip on the sword, and turned to see a perfectly clean statue man staring at the minotaur. He looked almost as scared as the bull man.

“I-I had no idea. I’m very sorry sir, if I knew that, I would have turned myself in.”

The statue man acted completely serious as he apologized to the minotaur.

Qresh turned to look at the statue, but Qresh’s face was always unexpressive. Rexi’s mouth dropped open, as her pink eyes widened like tea saucers.

“What!” Rexi shouted.

The statue man got closer to Qresh, and started to help the minotaur up. Qresh didn’t take away his sword, and the minotaur looked to be more frightened of the human statue than the sword at his throat.

“Get away from me! You are a thing of evil! The punishment for using magic here is death! You would have been killed on sight!”

The minotaur shouted as it attempted to crawl back.

The human statue just sighed, then appeared to be in the process of taking off his shield.

Rexi was still shocked at the scene, but she had to stop the statue man from doing anything stupid.

“You…you are not going to let this thing kill you! You’re joking right?” Rexi half yelled as the statue man continued to take off his shield.

“I cannot violate these people’s laws. If magic is illegal on this island, then I will have no choice but to leave. The minotaurs can try to kill me if they want, but I doubt they will be able. I will not resist though.”

As the statue man turned to walk into the ocean, Rexi was still dumbfounded this was happening.

“Qresh don’t let him walk off, he’ll get killed by the things swimming around this place!”

Qresh nodded, but before he could move away, they all heard a wet smack. The statue man continued his trek into the sea, but Qresh and Rexi turned away to see the other two members of their crew. That and how their minotaur prisoner was lying still with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

A dwarf holding a soiled wooden club was now stood over the fallen minotaur. He had apparently dealt the blow to knock out the captive, and it was difficult to tell if the minotaur was alive or dead. This dwarf was covered in ragged leather armor, if it could even be called that. The armor was piece mail, and mostly consisted of leather plates and straps shoddily holding together enough space to cover the dwarf’s wide torso. The armor didn’t cover the whole of the dwarf’s sagging gut, which was covered in greasy black hair and centered with a protruding naval.

The dwarf had a long, unkempt beard, was missing most of his teeth, and always had one eye either squinted or shut. It was difficult to tell due to the massive amount of grime and filth on the dwarf’s skin. The thing that stuck out the most (in this case literally) physically about this dwarf was his toes. He wore no shoes, and the dwarf’s feet were not only as hairy as a halfling’s, but sported horrifying toenails. They had to be near four inches, were yellow-brown like earwax, wide as mice, and almost as thick. This also gave the dwarf his name. This was “Toenails.”

The figure standing by the dwarf was a polar opposite of his filthy counterpart. Aside from being an elf, this man stood exactly six feet, but was possibly half as wide as Toenails. The elf was covered in a light, almost gold hued, suit of armor. It was mostly very fine chain mail, but the links were so tiny, it gave the armor the delicate look of clothing more than armor. Near the elf’s chest his armor thickened into a few plates, though they seemed frighteningly thin.

The elf had his long hair bunched in a sort of topknot near the back of his head, only instead of a knot the hair continued to flow down. He wore no helmet, and was armed with a long and thin curved blade, along with a shortbow. The blade was the exact same color of his armor.

“Serves the fool right for thinking he could challenge us!” The elf proclaimed haughtily.

“Us? I’s the one who killed ‘em! Ye jus’ followed me Ferrel!” Toenails belched out with a rotten grin.

“My name is Theril…” The elf sneered out.

“‘at what I said! Well…maybe I’s didn’t kill ‘em…but he ain’t gonna wake up happy if I’s didn’t!”

Toenails chuckled and scratched his exposed stomach. The elf just grimaced and looked over to the statue man.

The human statue glanced back at the others as he strode into the sea. Toenails was blocked from view by Qresh’s wide form, but the human statue briefly stopped once he saw the elf.

“Well, at least one of you primes can keep clean…” The statue muttered as he continued walking into the ocean.

“Hmm…you can’t go down there; the fish people’ll get you.”

Qresh growled out as he extended a clawed hand to grab the statue man’s shoulder. Once he touched the man’s stone shoulder, Qresh notice him dip back before spinning around.

“Don’t…don’t do that.” The statue man stammered out. “I mean no offense, but your claws are terribly ragged and smell like old fish. You also look like you came from the swamp…and even though I cannot get sick I do not want swamp miasma on me…”

The statue man had stopped walking, but was now holding up his hands as if he were being threatened. Qresh just stared at the statue man, his turtle face holding no emotion.

“I’ll quit…but you can’t keep walkin’ down there you’ll get torn up!”

The tortle’s growling voice held a hint of fear. He acted unbothered by the statue man’s revulsion of his dirty hands. Qresh wasn’t wrong though, the oceans around these islands were exceptionally dangerous.

“Oh, by the chessboard!” Rexi shouted. “We have a boat, just ride back with us!”

Rexi pointed down the shore to what looked like a small sailing ship anchored farther down the beach. A rowboat was in the corresponding point on the shore as well.

“Don’t think he’ll fit cause he’s a statue…they’re pretty heavy…” Qresh growled out.

“Lets me see!” Toenails shouted as he peered around Qresh.

The statue man’s eyes widened like saucers upon seeing the filthy dwarf. As the statue man watched Toenails waddle closer, his face twisted into a silent scream. Toenails briefly stopped walking, seemingly oblivious to the statue man’s horrified state, and hacked out a stream of brown-black fluid in front of him. The dip residue ran downhill on the sandy beach and entered the waves like thick oil.

The statue man’s eyes rapidly twitched. Seeing Toenails spit out his dip was apparently the last straw. The statue man’s face went blank, and he fell face first into the sand.

“Did I’s kill him?” Toenails asked, half afraid and half confused. Rexi just let out a pouty sigh, as Qresh, moving as if he could read her thoughts, started to drag the statue man over to the boat.

Rexi noticed that others were coming. The adventurers that were already hungry for treasure now wanted to see what had just taken place. Thankfully it didn’t take long for Qresh to drag the statue to their rowboat.

Qresh grunted, as he half-tossed, half-dropped the statue into the boat. The boat was just barely above the water.

“Hmm…almost too heavy…I can still get out an’ push…”

Rexi hoped this person had something to offer to make up for this trouble. Maybe he knew something about the tower.

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

Hein adjusted his mechanical hand, making sure the seams that secured it to his armor were strong. A piston ran from the back of the hand up his shoulder, and made an almost fluid-filled sound as it moved. Hein was walking with Spigot down a corridor of the tower. Apparently, the gnome had found something of note.

“As you can see sir, these kinds of sigils are only used for…”

“Summoning magic…” Hein muttered as he cut off the gnome.

The two were standing in a mostly dark hallway. Both could see in the dark, but Hein needed more details to understand the situation. He slipped a small glass orb from his pocket, then mentally commanded it to float. The orb let out a soft white light once it rose from Hein’s hand. The orb slowly drifted by the nearest wall to Hein, and he saw the markings more clearly.

The tower was filled with geometric markings that, to the untrained eye, looked like design choices. Hein knew better. He quickly turned his backwards facing hand to the marks, trying to get Spigots attention as he did.

“You see these lines; these are the exact same in every interval of this tower. Does that not strike you as strange?”

The gnome shook his head, somewhat confused, “Maybe sir…I didn’t take the time to notice. Is this something about the people from Mechanus?”

Hein bared his teeth; the evenness of the tiefling’s smile matched up with the designs.

“This has always been about them…her…whoever in the Nine Hells is crazy enough to “fix” this reality.”

Hein ran up to the other markings that Spigot told him about. They were on the ground, in what Hein already knew to be a perfect circle. The sigil was at a sort of intersection of four hallways, only the intersection was more of its own room. The ceiling was much, much higher here. For some reason that made Hein nervous.

“You missed another detail spigot.” Hein half shouted as he marched to the middle of the floor’s markings.

The gnome only saw Hein bend down briefly, then return to where he once was. Hein’s intact hand had something clenched inside it. Twisting his arm so the backwards hand could drop what it carried, Hein slowly opened his hand to allow what looked like metallic dust to fall out.

“Modron dust. This is all that remains of them when they die.” Hein said with a grin.

Spigot was trying to cup his hands to collect the fine powder. Hein stopped, and ran off a few feet past the sigils.

“If you look closely too, you’ll noticed how the floor here is worn. It’s as if hundreds of metal boots…or in this case feet…had worn it down marching.

Spigot uncapped his hands, almost as if the shock had caused him to forget what he was doing.

“Sir…they aren’t going to do The Great March are they?”

Hein shook his head, “No, they can’t just do that whenever they want, and it isn’t the proper time. What worries me though is that there has to be hundreds of these things in this tower and somehow, we just never knew it.”

The gnome strode up to Hein, only greeting him with an expression of confusion and fear. Hein’s large mouth twisted into a snarl as he started to swiftly walk back in the direction he and Spigot had come from. As the two walked, the Gnome was close on his heels.

“I want all of our constructed forces down here, marching, and on full alert of the modron army! We need to know what kind of numbers we’re dealing with, and if we find them, I want to kill as many as possible!”

Spigot nodded, and had to practically run to keep up with Hein.

“But sir, if we send all of our forces, what if they’re overwhelmed? Why not just a quarter?”

Hein spun around, his look of anger briefly subsiding as he looked into the eyes of the frightened gnome.

“Why not send only a little? Well, to put it bluntly, our constructs are expendable. Modrons cannot fathom asymmetric tactics or the other side being deceptive. Me risking all I have for recon isn’t something they can anticipate.”

Hein smiled as he turned back around to continue onward.

“Trust me Spigot; I know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve lived and worked around these monsters for over a year in their home plane! She couldn’t have picked a worse person to attack, and I’ve been getting ready for this since I found that treasure!”

The gnome stopped walking, and took a brief moment to look over his shoulder. This caused Hein to stop as well. Spigot thought he heard something. It couldn’t have been paranoia either; he’d spent countless hours examining these tunnels. Even if he didn’t stop to examine all the markings, he knew all the ones they had examined were abandoned…they had to be.

“S-sir, I’m sorry I just…I didn’t really think we’d meet an army. Are you sure you know enough about these things? Are you sure you can remember everything that happened there?”

Hein didn’t say anything, he just smiled. Hein could never forget all that he had seen and done in that unnatural city…