Outside 51: It's just a weather balloon

[bc56]

Shuttle to L1
You're just as full of hate and rage as the worst furies of the abyss. Lizzie responds, calmly. Sekhmet's presence doesn't drop off when contact is broken; the touch was meant as both a warning and a comfort, she doesn't need contact to interact with Miranda's mind.
It's too bad Miranda doesn't know the fiendlore necessary to understand how significant that insult was.

[Ironsmith]

[Shuttle to L1]

Fiendlore? No, not in the slightest.

But Miranda's parents were both pretty religious, and her upbringing was heavily steeped in their traditions. So the insult carries weight of a different sort.

Enough to plant a seed of doubt in Miranda's mind.

She goes quiet, crosses her arms, closes her eyes, and lets out a deep sigh. Lizzie... probably wasn't entirely right. She's angry, but not demonspawn angry.

...But still angry. She still finds herself way too comfortable with the idea of externalizing Lizzie and beating her to a pulp. That sort of thinking shouldn't be in her head, and she knows it.

[bc56]

Shuttle to L1
Silence will rule the shuttle for a while afterwards. Sekhmet's psychic presence retreats back into herself and she concentrates on her reading unless disturbed.

[Earl of Purple]

Pixie Grinder's Compound

And the Grinder dies, a blunt object turning her head into gibs. Boada already patted down the bodies nearby to take money and keys from them, but she's leaving the weapons- iron and steel don't shrink, and a pistol she can use when she's small isn't very effective- unlike the stick, which retains its potent enchantments even when it has been reduced to a length of centimetres.

The door swings open easily, opening outwards rather than in. Beyond, there's a corridor with four doors leading away from it and some stairs. There's a door to the immediate left, closed but the door is a panel door with large windows; it leads to a living area, with sofas and a television tuned to a gladiator match. At the far end of the corridor, an archway leads into a combination kitchen/dining room; there's no door, as such, just a doorway. The third door is under the stairs, probably a cupboard or storage space. The fourth door is a wooden door with no windows. The carpet here is lime green soft and plush, and there's a shoe rack with six pairs of shoes on it next to the door- all expensive, luxury brand footwear. The walls are painted lilac, and the ceiling has been painted dark orange. Several large paintings hang on the wall, three full-body nude portraits and a landscape painting of a room filled with pillows, people of different sizes and shapes all naked and seeming to enjoy themselves. One seems to resemble Yuvan; another, Boada. If he looks close enough, the depiction of Yuvan is perhaps a little generous but otherwise accurate; if he's got a scar or tattoo under his armour, it's visible. The image of Boada is probably more distinctive due to her large ears, and it has large scars on its back. There's also a weapon rack next to the door; a single-handed sword with a shining blade, polished to a mirror finish, a long jezzail with elegant gilding and marquetry, a coiled leather whip, a Lochaber axe with a shortened haft, and a triple-barrelled brute of a shotgun, squat and rather ugly, especially next to the other weapons there.

Abandoned Battlefield

The commander is about to say 'you're from space?', but then he tells her to be quiet as he's picking something up, so she stops transmitting from the radio and instead gives orders to her crew. The Valentine swings its turret around and advances slowly up the slope. It's fitted with a periscope that can swivel in all directions without requiring the commander to move, which at the time was a cutting edge sensor. Unfortunately it means that the crew don't have sonar, radar or any form of night vision in their tank, and except in combat situations the best bet is for the commander to pop open the turret hatch and hang out with a pair of binoculars- she's not doing that, however. She's not sure what the mecha might have seen, or how it might have seen it, so she doesn't know how close it could be.

[Rebonack]

[Thrakeld]

"Well, they've always been around. But only in the old dwarf ruins, you know? They never came out and bothered us none since we ain't fool enough to go poking around in those dead cities," the blacksmith says. "It all started when this creepy Breton feller showed up askin' about the ruins. Had this uncanny feeling about him, you know? And this... grey leather armor, never seen nothin' like it before. Man moved like a ghost. Something just wasn't right about him. Told Flavius not to answer any of his questions but that damn Imperial looses all sense as soon as coin starts jangling."

The smith points to the nearby general store.

"Flavius is the only one who knows where the entrance is. If you're looking to set things right you'll have to talk to him."

Grey leather armor.

Hmm.

That doesn't sound like anything Fenris has personally encountered.

Likely related to a faction or possibly a daedric prince she hasn't ever had any dealings with.

"Thank you for the information, sir," Fenris says. "We'll speak to him at once. Should all go well this situation will be set right before the sun has set."


[An Improbable Adventure]

Fenris is of the opinion that neither of those explanations make much sense, which is why it bothers her.

She craves explanations that make sense.

No doubt the Nexus is going to leave her woefully disappointed.

"Mm... To something, no doubt," Fenris says as she opens the chest in the closet and begins rifling through it. After a few moments she withdraws an odd looking dagger with a blade that appears to be made of green glass.

A glass dagger would be pretty lousy, wouldn't it?

It would break the first time it hits anything solid.

Fenris slides the weapon back into its sheath and stows it away in her pack, muttering something about raw materials. Then her eyes positively light up!

"Oh! Well, this is fascinating," she says, pulling out a silver goblet and tipping it to the side, pouring olive oil all over the floor. "I can't say I've ever encountered and enchantment quite like this one before. This will be informative to dissect."

It sounds like she isn't going to stop G'nichi from trying the key on the door. He's going to have to take some initiative here. There's still that book shelf over there, in addition to the door that no doubt leads to the next chamber.

[bc56]

Abandoned Battlefield
"Confirmed. Three bogeys incoming from upriver. Can't get a good read on them. Something's scrambling my sensors." Given their lack of reliance on high-tech computerized sensor equipment, the tankers will probably spot the hostiles first, a trio of battered mechs in much worse shape than the Griffin, with red and black paint, the largest of which is slightly smaller than the Griffin and the other two of which are only about half its size. All three are wreathed in energy like a heat distortion which makes their exact details hard to make out even with normal eyes.

Spoiler: Reference Images

Show

[Ironsmith]

Shuttle to L1
Silence will rule the shuttle for a while afterwards. Sekhmet's psychic presence retreats back into herself and she concentrates on her reading unless disturbed.

[Shuttle to L1]

Now that Sekhmet's out of her head, Miranda finds herself... kind of missing her, actually. She didn't take the time to enjoy it much, but there was a certain motherly bend to the demon queen's imprint; very powerful (relatively speaking), impossible to hide from, but also having her best interests at heart. Miranda missed a lot of that growing up.

All she's got left in there right now is Lizzie. The first-rate pain in the butt that made this whole trip necessary.

If Sekhmet did that again at any point, she wouldn't mind it. She definitely wouldn't shrug her off so quickly.

"...Shut up." Miranda mutters to Lizzie, regardless of whether she has anything to say about that sentiment or not.

Pixie Grinder's Compound

And the Grinder dies, a blunt object turning her head into gibs. Boada already patted down the bodies nearby to take money and keys from them, but she's leaving the weapons- iron and steel don't shrink, and a pistol she can use when she's small isn't very effective- unlike the stick, which retains its potent enchantments even when it has been reduced to a length of centimetres.

The door swings open easily, opening outwards rather than in. Beyond, there's a corridor with four doors leading away from it and some stairs. There's a door to the immediate left, closed but the door is a panel door with large windows; it leads to a living area, with sofas and a television tuned to a gladiator match. At the far end of the corridor, an archway leads into a combination kitchen/dining room; there's no door, as such, just a doorway. The third door is under the stairs, probably a cupboard or storage space. The fourth door is a wooden door with no windows. The carpet here is lime green soft and plush, and there's a shoe rack with six pairs of shoes on it next to the door- all expensive, luxury brand footwear. The walls are painted lilac, and the ceiling has been painted dark orange. Several large paintings hang on the wall, three full-body nude portraits and a landscape painting of a room filled with pillows, people of different sizes and shapes all naked and seeming to enjoy themselves. One seems to resemble Yuvan; another, Boada. If he looks close enough, the depiction of Yuvan is perhaps a little generous but otherwise accurate; if he's got a scar or tattoo under his armour, it's visible. The image of Boada is probably more distinctive due to her large ears, and it has large scars on its back. There's also a weapon rack next to the door; a single-handed sword with a shining blade, polished to a mirror finish, a long jezzail with elegant gilding and marquetry, a coiled leather whip, a Lochaber axe with a shortened haft, and a triple-barrelled brute of a shotgun, squat and rather ugly, especially next to the other weapons there.

[Pixie Grinder's Compound]

Yuvan cringes when he sees the portraits. Ew. If there's one thing he didn't want to see when he walks into a villian's lair, it's a creepy nude painting of himself. If there are two or three things, they'd probably be creepy nude paintings of his traveling companion and possibly the villain themselves, respectively.

Yuvan will draw a little iron dagger (first knife he ever made) and cut at a corner of the painting, testing to see if damaging it has any adverse effects to himself or Boada; it's clearly magic, to have been made so quickly. If the answer to that question is "no", he'll put the dagger back, raise his hands, and douse the painting in fire. This thing should never see the light of day.

[Thrakeld]

"Well, they've always been around. But only in the old dwarf ruins, you know? They never came out and bothered us none since we ain't fool enough to go poking around in those dead cities," the blacksmith says. "It all started when this creepy Breton feller showed up askin' about the ruins. Had this uncanny feeling about him, you know? And this... grey leather armor, never seen nothin' like it before. Man moved like a ghost. Something just wasn't right about him. Told Flavius not to answer any of his questions but that damn Imperial looses all sense as soon as coin starts jangling."

The smith points to the nearby general store.

"Flavius is the only one who knows where the entrance is. If you're looking to set things right you'll have to talk to him."

Grey leather armor.

Hmm.

That doesn't sound like anything Fenris has personally encountered.

Likely related to a faction or possibly a daedric prince she hasn't ever had any dealings with.

"Thank you for the information, sir," Fenris says. "We'll speak to him at once. Should all go well this situation will be set right before the sun has set."

[Thrakeld]

Yuvan turns to follow Fenris, flicking the man a septim as they go; it never hurts to be generous. In fact, he's found it's often helped. Shopkeepers tended to give him better deals if he spared a septim or two for the local beggars, children, or anyone else who asked. Damnedest thing.

Anyway, he'll be ready to repeat the trick when they get to this Flavius person, but he expects he'll be able to get by with some choice words instead. If not... well, he's not exactly short of coin to spend.

[bc56]

Shuttle to L1
Maybe when this is all done, you'll talk to her about becoming one of her minions? Lizzie asks, apparently finding this whole thing funny, but she's told to shut up, and for now, she does.
So time passes once again.

[Ironsmith]

[Shuttle to L1]

(Day 2, Evening)

It's about time for Sekhmet to turn in for the night. Not that it'll be obvious at first; without a clear day/night cycle outside, noon, midnight, dawn and dusk are all indistinguishable from each other. The only notice Sekhmet will get will be a soft but persistent beep from the console and a steady dimming of the shuttle's internal light.

If she does, in fact, go to sleep at this time, that leaves Miranda and Lizzie alone, without the demon queen to intervene. There's a lot of scheming the succubus could get up to in the next eight hours.

[Deathkeeper]

An Improbable Adventure

G’nichi loves books but he is unlikely to be able to read one while wraiths are trying to dance him to death.
So with that not on the table G’nichi has naught else to do but head straight to the remaining door and try that key!

[bc56]

Shuttle to L1
Sekhmet falls asleep in a pile of blankets in the copilot's seat. Surprisingly, Lizzie doesn't seem interested in messing with her. Of course given their apparent relative power levels, it seems likely that Lizzie might not be able to do much against Sekhmet anyway.
Night falls (as much as it can in space) and Miranda is left awake. It will be quiet... Until the screaming starts.
Sekhmet is writhing and screaming in her sleep, clearly caught in the grip of a nightmare. Her blankets bunch and twist in unnatural ways around her, and the air is growing hot nearby.

[Ironsmith]

[Shuttle to L1]

Miranda springs into action when Sekhmet screams the first time.

At first, she's worried that something might have happened in the cabin itself; Sekhmet's alone in there, with all the controls, and if there's a catastrophic failure in there it'll likely kill both of them.

Coming in and seeing Sekhmet in the throes of night terrors brokers a different reaction. Normally, she knows it's generally better not to wake someone having an intense nightmare like this, but some supernatural stuff is happening and she doesn't want to risk a literal meltdown. So Miranda will approach Sekhmet and attempt to wake her from her dream, starting with a firm but gentle shake.

[bc56]

Shuttle to L1
Miranda seizes Sekhmet by the shoulder. But rather than flesh and bone, it feels like grabbing a handful of warm, wet clay. Her hand will literally sink into Sekhmet's body if she pushes hard enough. Sekhmet doesn't respond in any way to Miranda's presence. Lizzie takes the opportunity to chastise her host about this. Don't touch a succubus when she's shapeshifting! The tone suggests this is mostly rude but possibly also dangerous.

[Ironsmith]

[Shuttle to L1]

Miranda hastily withdraws her hands. Okay, that's obviously not going to work. She'd have to wake Sekhmet without touching her. Loud noise? Unlikely to work; she's already screaming and still asleep. Some kind of tactile stimulation? Ice water? Too bad she doesn't have any on the ship.

"How hard-and-fast is that? Is it safe to touch her with gloves?" Miranda asks Lizzie hastily.

[bc56]

Shuttle to L1
No! Disturbing her could cause her powers to go wild and kill both of us! The best case is that your hand gets stuck inside her until she wakes up! Wait until she settles into a form! Lizzie hastily commands. That's probably unsatisfying for Miranda to hear.
Also how is there no water on the ship? What have they been drinking?

[Earl of Purple]

Abandoned Battlefield

"We see them. Three walking machines, one your size or nearly and two much smaller. They look like... like a heat wave, you know? The wavy distortion of hot air from concrete on a summer day. They look damaged, but... I don't know enough to say how badly, and the distortion and distance makes things harder. Load an anti-armour shell, Steph. Range the target, aim for the knee if you can, the one with no arms, but don't fire yet. Those look like missiles to me, and we don't know if they're hostile." Of course, even if they are hostile, there's no real way to say for sure if a WWII-era anti-tank shell would be effective- especially as the Valentine's 75mm cannon wasn't as effective (according to Wikipedia...) as the 6-pounder was when it came to anti-armour, though could use HE shells that the 6-pounder couldn't.

Pixie Grinder's Compound

The orgy painting does not resist the knife, and slashing it has no effect on either Boada or Yuvan- it's just enchanted to replace random figures with anyone who walks past it, with no real sympathetic connection forged. It also doesn't resist burning, the fire destroying it utterly, and also scorching the wallpaper underneath and drying out the plaster, which cracks and crumbles. The carpet also catches alight, which makes Boada nervous. "Hey! We can't burn the place down yet! There's gonna be people here, locked up who can't get out! My people, pixies an' sprites! Quit it!" Boada can't do much about the fire, but she's really wanting to explore this place properly and free captives.

[bc56]

Abandoned Battlefield
"Copy. That's a telltale sign of an EW cloaking field. What color is their livery?" There's not enough time for an answer as the more human-shaped of the smaller mechs releases a swarm of missiles from its torso, which arc into the Griffin's flank in a series of flashes of light and fire. "Scratch that. Taking minor damage from enemy long range missiles. Going to jump up and draw their fire. You girls fall back and aim for weak points when they open up." With that, the Griffin leaps, trails of blue-white fire and smoke trailing from jets on its back and legs as it soars towards the other mechs, landing heavily in a small, dried-up forest. With an electric whine, the Griffin fires an orb of glowing particles from one of the guns on its arm, impacting the attacking mech in its leg.

[Ironsmith]

Shuttle to L1
No! Disturbing her could cause her powers to go wild and kill both of us! The best case is that your hand gets stuck inside her until she wakes up! Wait until she settles into a form! Lizzie hastily commands. That's probably unsatisfying for Miranda to hear.
Also how is there no water on the ship? What have they been drinking?

[Shuttle to L1]

Water at a higher-than-freezing temperature, mostly.

Miranda pulls back and grabs her Hotbox, quickly trying to piece together a course of action. Lizzie was likely right; if she was about to do something that could get them both killed, it'd be in her best interest to warn her. In any case, waiting until Sekhmet is solid would be a safe bet anyway; she doesn't know how the succubus would respond mid-transformation even if Lizzie was giving her bad information.

Miranda fills her Hotbox with water and waits for an opportune moment, or for a full minute to pass, whichever comes first. Then she'll douse the succubus in the scalding universal solvent, resolving to apologize for any injuries later.

Pixie Grinder's Compound

The orgy painting does not resist the knife, and slashing it has no effect on either Boada or Yuvan- it's just enchanted to replace random figures with anyone who walks past it, with no real sympathetic connection forged. It also doesn't resist burning, the fire destroying it utterly, and also scorching the wallpaper underneath and drying out the plaster, which cracks and crumbles. The carpet also catches alight, which makes Boada nervous. "Hey! We can't burn the place down yet! There's gonna be people here, locked up who can't get out! My people, pixies an' sprites! Quit it!" Boada can't do much about the fire, but she's really wanting to explore this place properly and free captives.

[Pixie Grinder's Compound]

Yuvan switches spells and sprays a wall of frost around the edges of the painting, letting it continue to burn but reducing the spread to nothing. "...Very well." He says bluntly, hefting his mace and moving toward the first door. "But I think we can both agree that unholy abomination needed to be destroyed."

[bc56]

Shuttle to L1
A minute passes without Sekhmet's condition improving
Splash.
Sekhmet gasps and sits bolt upright, revealing just how bad her state is. Her body is a mass of fleshy tendrils and insectoid limbs that only vaguely resemble a human female. "Huh?" As she becomes aware of herself, her form begins to melt together into an actual humanoid body with all the parts one might expect... Except from the waist down she remains monstrous, specifically the body of a huge spider (it's a form she's taken before, so it's easy to slip into without noticing). Blushing a deep black, she pulls the blanket up over herself. "Uh, what's going on?" She doesn't seem to notice the changes to herself. In addition, her ears are pointed instead of rounded, but that's a minor difference (and one that changes frequently).

[Ironsmith]

[Shuttle to L1]

"You were having a nightmare and doing... things... in your sleep. I couldn't risk damaging the controls." Miranda lets out a relieved sigh and produces a warm towel from her Hotbox, offering it to Sekhmet so she can dry herself off. "Are you okay? You were screaming, and... and I really hope that's fixable." She trails off, looking down at Sekhmet's arachnid half.

[bc56]

Shuttle to L1
"It was, uh, just a nightmare. Don't worry about it." Sekhmet begins toweling herself off. "Uh, I can change back whenever." and she does, her arachnoid carapace reverting to a pair of human legs. Her ears remain pointed. She hasn't even noticed that change. "Uh... *Yawn*... what time is it?"

[Ironsmith]

[Shuttle to L1]

"Twenty-three thirty-one." Miranda replies. "...I mean, half past eleven." She gives the demon queen a little smile of relief when she changes back. Good. No harm done. Also, that'd be a really neat ability for her to have, if she was still doing spy work.

"...Listen. Stop me if this gets too personal, but... that wouldn't happen to be a chronic thing, would it?" Miranda brushes a strand of hair out of her face. "I have a friend who used to get night terrors on a regular basis. We developed a sort of prevention system where I'd wake her a few times a night, so she wouldn't have to deal with them. And since I'm already going to be awake anyway, I thought I'd offer to do the same for you."

Lizzie will learn from this, if she didn't already know, that Miranda's talking about Rose; the woman her team extracted from a shallow grave under asphalt a few years ago. No wonder she had nightmares.

[bc56]

Shuttle to L1
"It's, uh... Would that work?" It seems like it wouldn't. But maybe it would. Sekhmet thought she was over her recurring nightmares, but maybe the change in environment caused them to return. "I, uh, haven't had that nightmare in a while, I don't, uh, know if it's, uh, chronic." The implication is that it used to be.

[Ironsmith]

[Shuttle to L1]

"It did for her." Miranda shrugs. "If you don't want me to, that's fine. I'm not your mom, I can't exactly make you, and frankly it's not my business either way. All I'd ask besides is that you not sleep so close to the controls... just in case." She gives Sekhmet a little smile and a reassuring clap on the shoulder, before getting up to go back to the cargo bay.

[bc56]

Shuttle to L1
Something about the words "I'm not your mom" makes Sekhmet wince. "I'm fine, uh, thank you." When Miranda touches her shoulder this time, it feels completely normal, if warm. There's no sign of its earlier consistency.
Sekhmet curls up in the booth in the cargo bay instead, and is soon fast asleep again. She won't have another nightmare for the rest of tonight.

[Rebonack]

[Thrakeld]

Braum the blacksmith does not object to free money.

Not even a little bit.

Regardless!

On to the general store!

It's the typical, dingy little hovel of a shop that doubles as someone's home, a ladder leading up to the second floor. Honestly it isn't a far-cry from the Riverwood Trader. Just with one sleezy looking Imperial in it. The man's overly large, brushy eyebrows crawl up his forehead like startled mice at the sight of the two adventurers walking in. Not just because these are the first customers he's had in some time, but because the both of them are obviously heavy with coin.

"Welcome, welcome! I don't know what I might be able to offer to such distinguished visitors but everything's for sale!" Flavius says.

"We're here seeking the entrance to the nearby Dwemer ruins. We aim to put an end to the construct problem plaguing your town," Fenris explains.

"Hah! I hoped it might be something like that. Those dwarf spiders have been killing business. Literally more often than not. The ruin entrance is about a half day's journey due east, hidden away under a cliff-face. Easy to miss if you don't know where it is," Flavius says. "If you smashed the machines haunting the road then hopefully things will start getting back to normal. We've had a few farmers cooped up at the Lowing Trough slowly going stir crazy. Yes sir, it sounds to me like our troubles are as good as over!"

This is, of course, when the screams start happening outside.

Should our heroes rush out the door they'll be met with a most unwelcome sight.

Another half dozen spiders have entered the town itself and are busy assaulting the inn and smithy.

And something else is with them, too.

It's an abomination, is what it is. A skittering horror lashed together from bones and Dwemer alloy, a large tank of violently venomous looking crimson fluid hooked by a hose to arm-mounted crossbow. The mechanical necromantic horror appears to be mostly observing, several skulls with crimson embers for eyes turning to and fro atop spidery, articulated limbs. The horror isn't directly intervening all that much, not that it has to. One of the farmers just found himself pounced upon and savaged to death by a spider-

-which results in the tell-tale ripping sound of a soul being torn free from a body from the farmer and into the spider.


[An Improbable Adventure]

C'mon, there aren't any skeletons attacking you at the moment G'nichi! Everything is fine.

The door, as it happens, has no key hole.

If G'nichi pushes on it the door will swing right open.

Unlike this room, wherein everything is fine, the next room contains another inert disco ball and a bunch of raving skeletons.

FIVE of them this time around.

The disco ball's pedestal is atop a small platform with a wooden ramp leading up to it. Considering how high it is off the ground sneaking up there might be tough. If only they had a tiny lizard person adept to climbing on their side...

[Earl of Purple]

Abandoned Battlefield

The commander doesn't reply, too busy organising her crew and reversing into a better position to get a shot off if they can. The mechs are much larger than the tank, and the cannon might not be able to shoot a shell high enough to do anything- so they might not be able to shoot a mech higher than the knee.

Pixie Grinder's Compound

The first door opens into the living room. It's got a pair of large sofas with thick cushions, with deep purple upholstery. The floor is polished hardwood, mahogany probably, and the walls are striped yellow and red. There's a large television mounted on the wall, currently muted; it's showing a gladiator match, in which a fox-eared and tailed man with a sledgehammer chases a human woman across an arena, until she brutally jabs him in the stomach with her wire-wrapped baseball bat and then breaks his elbow. After, it's some adverts and sponsored videos, for shuttle companies and lift operators mostly. In the middle of the room there's a copper coffee table topped with a mosaic of a sailing ship, and there's a white cabinet under the television.

The room's only occupant is a muscular beastman with the head of a goat and large polished horns capped with gold; he's naked and asleep on one of the sofas, hoofs resting on the mosaic coffee table. Gold and silver jewelery adorns his wrists, ankles, fingers and ears. His snoring is very loud, and a large war-axe rests under his left hand, whilst his right holds the television remote control.

[Ironsmith]

Shuttle to L1
Something about the words "I'm not your mom" makes Sekhmet wince. "I'm fine, uh, thank you." When Miranda touches her shoulder this time, it feels completely normal, if warm. There's no sign of its earlier consistency.
Sekhmet curls up in the booth in the cargo bay instead, and is soon fast asleep again. She won't have another nightmare for the rest of tonight.

[Shuttle to L1]

Miranda drifts off to the other side of the shuttle, sitting upside-down above her pod while Sekhmet goes to sleep. She'll keep an eye out for any further nightmares, but luckily, that won't be an issue.

There's one other thing on her mind, too.

"...Thanks back there, Lizzie." She says quietly. She doubts her intentions were benevolent, but she did still help. Credit where it's due.

[Thrakeld]

Braum the blacksmith does not object to free money.

Not even a little bit.

Regardless!

On to the general store!

It's the typical, dingy little hovel of a shop that doubles as someone's home, a ladder leading up to the second floor. Honestly it isn't a far-cry from the Riverwood Trader. Just with one sleezy looking Imperial in it. The man's overly large, brushy eyebrows crawl up his forehead like startled mice at the sight of the two adventurers walking in. Not just because these are the first customers he's had in some time, but because the both of them are obviously heavy with coin.

"Welcome, welcome! I don't know what I might be able to offer to such distinguished visitors but everything's for sale!" Flavius says.

"We're here seeking the entrance to the nearby Dwemer ruins. We aim to put an end to the construct problem plaguing your town," Fenris explains.

"Hah! I hoped it might be something like that. Those dwarf spiders have been killing business. Literally more often than not. The ruin entrance is about a half day's journey due east, hidden away under a cliff-face. Easy to miss if you don't know where it is," Flavius says. "If you smashed the machines haunting the road then hopefully things will start getting back to normal. We've had a few farmers cooped up at the Lowing Trough slowly going stir crazy. Yes sir, it sounds to me like our troubles are as good as over!"

This is, of course, when the screams start happening outside.

Should our heroes rush out the door they'll be met with a most unwelcome sight.

Another half dozen spiders have entered the town itself and are busy assaulting the inn and smithy.

And something else is with them, too.

It's an abomination, is what it is. A skittering horror lashed together from bones and Dwemer alloy, a large tank of violently venomous looking crimson fluid hooked by a hose to arm-mounted crossbow. The mechanical necromantic horror appears to be mostly observing, several skulls with crimson embers for eyes turning to and fro atop spidery, articulated limbs. The horror isn't directly intervening all that much, not that it has to. One of the farmers just found himself pounced upon and savaged to death by a spider-

-which results in the tell-tale ripping sound of a soul being torn free from a body from the farmer and into the spider.

[Thrakeld]

Oooooooh that's not good.

Yuvan draws his mace and conjures up a fireball in his free hand. "There are some phrases you should avoid." He grumbles to his Imperial counterpart.

He takes a moment to strategically evaluate the situation. The big spider was his priority; he should be able to break it reasonably easily, which would preclude any further soul-trapping. But even that could take time; he'd need to distract the little ones with untrappable targets in the meantime.

He switches spells on his offhand and conjures up a Flame Atronach; that's one more target for the spiders and a source of damage besides. Thus prepared, he charges the megaspider, wreathing himself in flames on the way.

[Rebonack]

[Thrakeld]

The poor shop keeper looks horrified.

It's understandable.

Most people aren't close acquaintances with violence and death.

Fenris is close behind, pulling the Dwemer disk off her back and momentarily freezing with equal parts fascination and disgust at the sight of the necromanctic construct. Combining Dwemer engineering like that with necromancy struck her as brilliant as it was grotesque.

As soon as our heroes emerge one of the mounted skull-heads swivels toward them along with the one of those strange crossbow looking devices as a pneumatic hiss sounds from the machine moments before-

thackthackthackthackthackthackthackthackthack!

It opens fire with the machine that apparently uses steam pressure to launch bolts at high speed rather than mechanical tension. Each bolt carries a dose of deadly toxin that corrodes armor and poison resistance alike. And that's aside from causing numbing slow and plain old necrotic flesh. And while doing that?

It retreats.

Quickly.

Who thought it would be a good idea to create a ranged attacker who doesn't just stand his ground like an idiot when you charge him?

Fenris' eyes widen as she as she drops to one knee, pulling the disc in front of herself to block the hail of projectiles. With the other hand she makes a sweeping motion, causing twelve foot long barrier of stone to rip out of the ground between our heroes and the larger construct. The wall provides ample cover from direct fire.

Doesn't stop the smaller constructs from disengaging from the farmers and skittering toward the adventurers, though.

Two of them are headed for Fenris, two for the summoned antronach, and two for Yuvan.

[bc56]

Abandoned Battlefield
The largest hostile mech charges towards the Griffin, firing beams of blue and green light at the mech as it goes. As it gets far enough from its companions, the field cloaking it disappears and its paint job is fully visible. A malevolent looking crest coats its chest, an antlered human skull with a jagged scar over its right eye. "Pirates. As I suspected. We'll make short work of them. Focus on the smaller ones, I've got the Centurion." Almoner rushes forward, tearing a path through the trees to a closer position, then unloading on the Centurion. A barrage of short-range missiles fly from the batteries on the Griffin's shoulders, followed by a laser and another particle blast from its guns. The combined attacks tear large chunks out of the Centurion's already damaged armor, and a blast rips apart the mech's left torso and tears off its arm. "Hit the ammo magazine."

Shuttle to L1
Don't forget it. Lizzie replies smugly. She definitely was just out to save her skin (or rather Miranda's). And time passes