Turn 131

"Fire?" Durrell says in a surprised tone.
    Rather than wait for them to figure out what he expects is going on, the spy drifts carefully back toward the other room and through it, seeking the stairs the two came up by. Using a handy lamp, he quickly anoints part of the topmost stone step with oil, and for good measure the top of the railing. It is probably too much to ask of luck, but he can hope that Durrell will come bolting for the stairs, slip, and break his traitorous neck.
    Task completed, he retires to the room he came in by, checks that the window looks closed, and on general principles crouches behind a chair. He waits, listening, for six or eight breaths, hearing muffled angry exclamations from the mirror room, and then rapid footsteps.
    Durrell appears, passes out of view, and hits the stairs at a run; his foot slips and his grab at the rail nets him nothing. A sequence of crashing noises and cursing marks his progress down the stair, and then more voices -- apparently they left the guards below. Piero follows him through the room; ibn Fadil can hear him stop.
    "My lord?" Piero calls down. "Are you all right?" The indistinct response appears to reassure him. There is the sound of quiet chanting, and then he comes back into view, his eyes searching the room slowly. Whatever the spell's nature, it does nothing visible, and a moment later he returns to the stair, calling, "Get some more guards up here at once!"
    * * *
    Then the enemy priest counterattacks, and sourceless pain rockets through his own body. [14 HP]
    Gritting his teeth in an effort to ignore the pain from the unexpected attack Lynden staggers back away from the rope ladder unsteadily, it wouldn't do for him to fall from the Distraction and there is more he can do from her decks before disembarking.
    Nyala, astonishingly, misses both of her next shots at the priest and says something very unladylike.
    The ship glides smoothly across the river, covering the short distance in less time than it takes to think about it, to the heavily built structure that looks like it probably contains the new weapons. There Emmett follows Yestin down the rope ladder. Halfway down they hear Alais give a warning shout as four dark shapes emerge from the shadows around the building in response to the priest's silent whistle -- wolves, but their bodies are smooth black in the light from the burning building, and with every step there is the soft click-click of mechanisms.
    Yestin leaps the rest of the way to the ground and brings his halberd around as the first wolf leaps at him, a sweeping blow that knocks a dent into the thing's side and makes a startling noise.
    Alais scrabbles frantically through his pockets and casts another spell; thick, sticky strands fill the air and entrap two of the wolves.
    Waiting for the ladder to steady after Yestin's rapid debarkation, Emmett descends in much the same way, looking to land point first with his cutlass onto one of the mechanical wolves. _I sure hope these guys are big on function mirroring form, because I'd hate for these wolves to be poisonous,_ he thinks in mid flight.
    He does strike the wolf solidly, with a very satisfying clang of steel. He notes that the wolves make no sound as they fight other than the click of their joints.
    From his vantage point on the deck Lynden spots the abhorrent creatures too. At the first sight of the sleek iron creatures, he feels a peculiar sort of electrical jolt, as even through the noise of fire and battle the sound of hooves in the forest returns, louder than ever. There is a terrifying sense of immanence.
    With his stomach churning Lynden pulls out his holy symbol and waves it in the air. "I hold faith with you!" he shouts above the din, "Bestow your protection on those who fight for our cause!"
    Nyala fires off another couple of arrows at the enemy as he runs after the ship, much more successfully this time; he stumbles but continues his advance, mouth opening and closing in what one can only hope are merely mundane curses.
    Emmett hammers away at the wolf in front of him with cutlass and hook, connecting less solidly but still doing some damage to the machine. Yestin swings the halberd again, a clean miss as the wolves circle, leap, and their iron teeth snap closed on air.
    One of the other two breaks free of the web spell. Alais hesitates, takes out his wand; he's been depleting it rather heavily on this planet, but they haven't all night to mess about, and a moment later the wolf is covered in a heavy sheet of ice. It strains for a moment and breaks free, its movements slow and slightly awkward; it has clearly been damaged quite badly.
    Emmett's cutlass clangs from the wolf's black shape once more -- his weapons are going to need serious sharpening later on -- dinging the mechanism again.Yestin swings again, a solid hit. They are clearly taking a toll on the creatures, but the things are tough, and being machines they don't retreat. Fortunately, despite their fearsome appearance, they appear to pose relatively little threat to well-armed and armored opponents. [as all three of them roll abysmally] The fourth breaks free of Alais' spell, and with a wince he fires off another blast from the wand.
    Emmett swings the cutlass again and sends the iron head flying from the first wolf to face him. It remains standing for a moment, swaying and jerking as if attempting to carry on, then collapses in a heap. Yestin delivers another mighty blow; this one is clearly on its last legs, its mechanisms grinding loudly as it staggers back to its feet.
    The second wolf facing Emmett leaps again and this time the jaws touch flesh. [ 13 points ] The second of the two facing Yestin similarly summons some final reserve of strength for attack [ 9 points], eliciting a grunt from the giff.
    Alais finishes off the one that seems to be in best repair, leaving two, one of which is wobbling badly as it tries to orient itself for another attack. "Bring one back with you!" the mage shouts from above.
    Emmett yells "Captain, go get something from their stores and then let's finish this!" The giff nods and lumbers over to the building's door. He draws back a few paces, lowers his head and rushes at it with a roar as the impact shatters the heavy timbers. He ducks inside the low structure and reappears a moment later, every massive muscle straining as he pushes a low, wheeled framework and its burden -- a large black cylinder -- out into the rutted snow.
    

| Top |