by Cebelius
As she spoke, the other two dwarves came up alongside the first and Abram looked them over.
One was female, a fact made obvious by both her sizable bust and that she either had no beard, or was clean-shaven. Abram had no idea if female dwarves actually had beards or not. Probably not. He doubted very much that Tolkien had much to do with Celestine, but he couldn't rule it out since these dwarves otherwise looked pretty spot on in size, shape, and apparently, temperament.
Given the nature of this game, having beards on dwarven women would limit them pretty much to fetishists.
That thought sent him down a mental rabbit hole as he realized that — given there were no humans in this game at all other than him — pretty much anyone he bound would cater to one fetish or another, and his latest 'conquest' had pretty much just sucked him like a lollipop and, had he not kept his cool, would have put him firmly in the vore category of bad endings. It was a disconcerting thought, and it caused him to miss the dwarf's initial reply. He rejoined the thread of the conversation as Sif spoke again.
"We are bound for Sidastrgeil. I have business I wish to conduct with the settlement. This trail of devastation made it obvious where the bridge was to be found, and that is why we are here. Now, do you intend to let us pass?"
"And your companions?" the dwarf pressed, his tone challenging.
"Are paid to ensure I reach my destination. As you can plainly see, I am bergsrå, and this is not my mountain," Sif said. "If you plan to delay me, you'll learn more than you ever wanted to know about them."
"I doubt very much a bergsrå dressed in rags has the clout to hire anyone, much less a pair of competent adventurers," the other male dwarf cut in.
Abram managed to keep himself from face-palming, but it was a near thing. He had grown accustomed to the way Sif was dressed. It had never occurred to him that would be a problem because until now she hadn't been placed in an apparent position of authority. As far as flawed plans went, it was painfully obvious in hindsight.
"Her garb is a matter of circumstance, principally haste," Angie said. "We are paid in full, she is our employer, and if you are calling her a liar you will suffer for it, little man."
The second male dwarf snarled as he brought his shield around from behind his back and his mace to a ready position. "Little! I'll show you the worth of your size, wench!"
Abram heard the giant proxy's hand ax slide from the loop at her belt, and side-stepped to allow Sif to back up behind them. He did not speak, nor did he show his hands, but his movement drew the attention of all three dwarves.
He dipped his head just enough for the gesture to move his cowl down a bit, then froze, waiting.
'Your Presence has increased.'
He blinked at the message Hantu Raya displayed for him, but couldn't spare the question it brought to mind. His full attention was riveted on the dwarves.
"Peace!" the first dwarf spoke again, and was careful not to raise his own weapon, though Abram saw his grip on the oversized mace tighten a bit. "I too find the claim dubious, but as you're obviously vouching for her story and prepared to fight on her word I suggest we leave the matter alone. We are members of a train sent to kill a beast living deep in this wild, but were left behind after being injured in the skirmish here. Our potions restored us, but by then we had been required to give up armor for companions and so remained behind. If you can pay, we might be willing to escort you to Sidastrgeil. We are from there."
"My treasures are the treasures of Svartheim, and shall remain there for now," Sif said sharply. "I have an escort, and you are without armor. If anyone should pay it is you. I doubt very much you three alone have the strength to make it back to your own territory."
"And you think you do?" the dwarf scoffed.
"I've seen these two in action. I'll take my chances."
As Sif spoke, Abram had to give her serious props for her poise. He would never have believed she could pull off the haughty, domineering tone she was using with these three, but she was doing a masterful job. "I suggest you three remain here. When the survivors return, they will see you safely back home. I have neither the time nor the inclination to coddle three dwarves who can't even keep up with their own campaign."
Abram smiled darkly. It was a bluff, and a very well-played one. Sif knew as well as he did that there were no survivors, at least, none that would live to return.
The lead dwarf scowled, a gesture Abram could only pick out because of the way his eyebrows drew together. His mouth was completely hidden by his beard. Before he could speak though, the female — who had remained silent thus far — set a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look, and she jerked her head back.
"Stay here," the dwarf curtly demanded, before withdrawing along with the other two. They stopped some twenty feet away, and began conversing in hushed tones.
"I should have thought of the clothes," Angie said sotto voce. "I'm sorry, Sif. It never occurred to me. Fashion isn't exactly something I've had to pay much attention to lately."
"Nor me. Not to worry," Sif replied. "The truth will serve when we speak with the settlement masters."
As he kept an eye on the increasingly heated exchange between the three dwarves, Abram mentally asked, What's this about an increased presence?
'You genuinely intimidated three dwarves, which for you was no mean feat. Presence is a measure of your ability to impact the moods and action of those around you.'
So it can just as easily go down.
'Naturally. The longer you remain a bad ass, the more people will perceive you as such. Needless to say, the Deeper Darkness is serving you well ... nerd.'
Abram snerked, but managed to stifle the laugh. Both of his companions gave him odd looks though, and he murmured, "Allergies."
"What does that even mean?" Sif asked, glancing up at Angie, who shrugged unknowingly.
Abram didn't bother to explain, and a few moments later the three dwarves returned and the leader spoke without preamble.
"A quarter bar to the bergsrå for each of us that reaches Sidastrgeil alive."
"A considerable sum. What can you offer by way of assurance that this will be paid me?" Sif asked, surprising Abram by the fact that she hadn't even attempted to bargain.
The three dwarves spoke in unison, and as they did, the air around them seemed to shimmer as though Abram were looking at them through heatwaves.
"We pledge our lives, our honor, and our sacred fortunes: the offer made is good."
"Agreed," Sif said, and the shimmering vanished. She took two steps forward, stepping into Abram's periphery as she extended a hand toward the bridge and said simply, "After you."
The dwarves turned away, and picking up a trio of small packs that seemed to contain their essentials, the three crossed the bridge ahead of Sif and Angie.
Abram hesitated. Something bothered him. He turned and glanced around, but there was nothing he could see beyond the dwarves and his own companions. The ruin of battle surrounded him and the scent of death hung in the air. He had no idea how long it had been since the fight, but it had been long enough for the bodies to release their final payloads, and for the blood to congeal.
He gazed at the row of corpses gathered by the dwarves, all in the partially crushed armor that failed to save them. The dead were silent and still.
Shaking his head, he followed after his companions, but the sense that he was missing something persisted. As they walked, he chewed over the feeling.
In normal games, there were no truly random encounters that didn't involve other players, but in this case Abram couldn't be sure. Certain events were bound to be scripted to an extent, but given he was now convinced that AI was in use here, there was no guarantee that other events might genuinely come from whatever else was going on in the world. Not to mention there were or would be other players. This other template was almost certain to be one.
Yet the event with the broodmother hadn't been spurred by any interaction that he was aware of or involved in. Th
e three dwarves walking through the narrowing cavern ahead of them were a knock-on encounter from that event. So it was very likely to be scripted, and therefore significant to the quest they were on.
Try as he might, Abram couldn't come up with any predictions about what would happen, and was left with the nagging suspicion that there was still missing information.
Or that I'm forgetting something, or missed some detail.
Frowning as he put the problem on the back burner, Abram took a look at his surroundings as they moved through them. Once across the bridge, the ground underfoot had become stone again and the mushrooms — glowing and otherwise — had been left behind. He'd been right about the siege engines: four small catapults, each about the size of a Volkswagen Beetle, had been set up and anchored to the stone here. He found it hard to believe such relatively small machines could lob the massive boulders he'd seen on the far side, but given several of the huge stones were still lined up at the ready nearby he had to presume either magic or superior engineering were involved. The dwarves passed by the machines without a second glance and Abram did likewise. It wasn't as though there would be anyone coming along to retrieve them, and they'd probably still be there when he came back this way later. If he had a use for them, he could pick them up anytime.
The six of them were soon moving in complete darkness, but the quality and content of the cavern they were passing through was new.
This cave was not alive, and didn't look like it ever had been. There were no stalactites hanging from the ceiling, no interesting rock formations. There were also no apparent walls, and the stone under Abram's feet was mostly flat, though there were occasional ridges. After what he estimated to be about a thousand feet the ceiling abruptly lowered from something like a hundred feet up to no more than ten, revealing an utterly smooth vertical rock face. Abram was no geologist and had no idea how such a formation could come to be, but as they passed underneath it he felt an odd sense of relief wash through him. Knowing he was deeply underground had served to keep his agoraphobia somewhat at bay, but now that the ceiling was so close a tension he hadn't fully acknowledged left him. In the mushroom forest the ceiling had been too high up to see, but the caps themselves had provided some cover and staying close to Angie had proven an effective shield from his fear.
Abram took a few quick steps and asked Angie in low tones so as not to be overheard by the dwarves ranging ahead of them, "Do you know what happened here?"
She shook her head and said, "This place has always been this way. Above us there is a cave complex that used to be a dungeon in its own right, but its aboveground entrances were sealed hundreds of years ago. There is an entrance somewhere off to our left, but I don't know what, if anything, lives there now."
She smiled slightly as she added, "Do remember that Celestine wasn't shaped by purely natural forces. There will be much to see that has no easy explanation."
Abram nodded. Of them all, only the dwarves had boots, and their footfalls were loud in what was otherwise a dead silence. They walked in step, whether by choice or habit he couldn't tell, and after a time it seemed as though he could feel the beat of their step in the very air around him.
The scream, when it came, shocked Abram out of a daze he hadn't realized he'd fallen into. It was not a mortal cry, but instead sounded like metal being dragged against itself or torn apart, horribly amplified and shaped in pitch to resemble a more human sound.
He looked toward the source, but it was still beyond even his dark sight. The dwarves dropped back to the group and by their wide eyes he presumed they were in for a fight.
"We heard it on the way out here as well," one of the male dwarves said, "though it didn't attack our column."
Sif saved him from having to ask as she said, "What is it?"
"A rogue automaton," the dwarf replied. "It was placed here centuries ago to guard against the broodmother, but maintenance lapsed after the runesmith who created it left Sidastrgeil. No one living knows where the control rod is."
Automaton? Will my dark lightning do anything against this thing? Abram thought.
The answer was not encouraging.
'I suspect we will learn the answer to that question together.'
Swap my Divine Nature spell for the ...
Abram's lips twisted as he cut himself off. The fireball would probably damage this thing, but it would also explode, and it was unlikely to be enough to finish the job in one shot. If he slotted the charged version, it wouldn't be ready before the thing was in melee range. Either way he'd be screwed.
He picked up movement at the edge of his range, and tapped Angie's elbow, pointing.
She took a few steps and said, "It's coming."
The dwarves looked in the same direction she faced, but it was clear their range was insufficient. Abram's was, though, and what he saw stalking toward him was not encouraging. It resembled a half-spider, half-man, and carried a lance that was at least twenty feet long couched on one side along with a shield that had three wicked-looking serrated spikes affixed to the center. The spider legs also had blades affixed, which were lateral rather than angled along the line of each leg. Several of these were twisted or missing. Its head and torso were both dented and rent in places, but the thing's movement was fluid. It had obviously been in combat before. He pointed at it and said, "Target."
Kappi
HP: 180/3000
SP: 2010/3000
MP: 0/0
"It's severely damaged," Abram murmured, keeping his voice low. "It has a very long lance and spiked shield along with bladed spider legs. Right now it is orienting on us. I believe it will charge."
Abram watched the automaton's head tilt as he spoke, and it shifted the point of its lance to aim directly at him. He couldn't make out anything in the eye sockets of the face, and the head tilt suggested it was operating by sound, but he couldn't be sure yet.
"How can you see it?" the female dwarf asked, her eyes narrowed as she stared into the black.
The head tilt of the machine shifted, and it adjusted again, the point of the lance now aimed at her.
For a moment, everything was still. Abram was now certain it was orienting by sound, but didn't know if that was because it was blind or because like almost everything else, its dark sight didn't extend as far as his. Either way, he wasn't going to speak again, because he had no way to deflect or avoid the charge if it were directed at him. He also didn't want to put Angie at risk.
The dwarves on the other hand were completely expendable, at least as far as he was concerned.
He kept an eye on the thing, and after another few moments noticed that its stamina bar was depleting rapidly.
Oh, that can't be good.
He stifled his first reaction, which was to tell everyone what he could see. If he spoke, it would orient on him again, and now he really didn't want to be on the other end of whatever was coming.
"You, mage! What's it doing?" one of the males demanded, turning to look at him. The three dwarves were close to them, spread out just enough that each had free reign with those over-sized maces.
Again the point of the lance shifted. Abram did a quick check and saw that Sif was too close to the new line of attack. He reached out, caught her by the upper arm and held a finger up in front of his hood in a shush motion as he pulled her toward him.
In the next instant, the sound of screaming metal came again as the automaton moved.
Its legs didn't carry it forward so much as serve to stabilize its upper body. The sound came from their contact with the stone as the whole thing screamed forward at unbelievable speed. It crossed the hundred or so feet between it and its chosen target in a single second.
The dwarf never stood a chance. The lance pierced him without any apparent resistance and lifted his body to slam into the shield the automaton held before it. The female dwarf, who'd stood between the other two, screamed as the spider's leg blades tore through her arm and flung her off her feet.
Before anyone c
ould move, the automaton was gone, out of the range of even Abram's dark sight.
"Holy shit! That thing just did 0 to ..." his eyes rolled up a moment as he did the calculation in his head, unable to help himself. "Seventy miles per hour. Instantly. We are so fucked."
"You said you could protect us!" the lone dwarf still standing roared, turning on Abram as his mace swung up. "Liar! If we're all going to die, I'll at least finish-!"
Abram didn't bother listening to any more. He hit the dwarf with lightning from both hands. The mace fell from nerveless fingers as the bearded cretin danced to the tune of 1.21 gigawatts.
It took him a full three seconds to die, which surprised Abram and made him wish the idiot had stayed alive long enough to be cannon fodder.
Glancing around he said, "Listen closely. This thing orients on sound and attacks from outside the usual visual range. I don't know if it can see up close or not and right now it doesn't fucking matter. Be quiet. None of us is wearing shoes. Spread out so we don't all get hit at once if it charges again."
"What do we do to stop this thing?" Sif asked, her voice laced with panic.
"Relax, I'll figure something out," Abram said with far more confidence than he felt.
Throughout all this the female dwarf was still wailing in agony, and he reasoned they had at least one more pass before their number would be up.
He spread his hands, waving Sif in one direction, and Angie in the other while he remained standing near the screaming dwarf. If the automaton could attack from even further away, he was in trouble, but he didn't think it could because he had seen it walk. It had stepped carefully into range, then chosen a target.
That run cost it roughly a thousand SP, so it's got at least one charge left before it either retreats or changes tactics.
He frowned. If it had only two charges worth of power, he could simply let it kill the lone remaining dwarf, counting on their ability to beat it once it was forced to get in close, but he couldn't risk losing either Sif or Angie.
