"Wait, my minions! Before you go down the stairs, it's necessary to drop something down that way! Yes! We need to ascertain the height of the staircase, failing which there can be... disastrous consequences! Now, if you have something round and hard... throw it down that way! Yes! And keep your ears open for its sound! Wait... what is banging on that door?" The gnome looks at the door which Lagrord had just closed (and outside which the Drake was, but the gnome doesn't know that), and says: "Ah, a visitor knocking on the door! It would be extremely impolite to keep them waiting! Let me open the door!"
The gnome scampers upto that door and attempts to open it.
"Something round and hard you say, how about that head of yours.." Colden thinks to himself. "But perhaps it's so full of air it would levitate upwards instead?". Colden manages to chuckle to himself a single second before realizing what the crazed little gnome is about to do.
"Oh no you won't!" Colden, being caught a bit unawares loses his selfcontrol for a second and lashes our and grabs the gnome by his arm and jerk him back. Being of no minor physique, a dusty lorekeeper though he is, his jerk is unintentionally hard and abrupt.
"Oowwee! What's wrong with you, Minion? Such an abrupt and unmoderated physical contact is highly inappropriate. Wait, I remember something... somebody else tried to do that to me before. Ah! I remember! I remember! You are one of those elven lassies in disguise! Yes, you ARE! Why didn't you tell me before?"
Colden is perplexed by this turn of events. Should he play along or not? Being a scholar of no low standing, he deducts logically it should be rather evident by his appearance he is no elven lass. No elven lass in disguise could ever look so dashing and handsome as he does.
"Well.. eehh.. perhaps I am, but that's for me to know and for you to guess! But Mister Gnome, I think I could smell something down the stairs, something oddly familiar. I'm not sure, but perhaps it's the sweet, delicate smell of a sweetroll? Perhaps you could go down there and check it out?"
Kefto, holding the stretcher looks at the gnome in confusion. “But we just... the drake...”
He stops mid sentence at a shake of Garta’s head, cautioning him to let Colden handle it
As Lagrord, finishes up the last touches on dressing into his new armor, Garta, leaning on the door frame, drops a metal trophy down the center of the staircase. It hits the bottom a few seconds later in the darkness, indicating it is about the same distance.
Once Lagrord is dressed (and quite dashing), Garta leans on him for her support again, smiling and suddenly self-conscious in her mannerisms. She may be impressed by the half-orc’s new look.
Sus’Ann finishes checking a still mildly subdued Jirt. His injury will not prevent him from continuing. Garta waves the dwarf away, insisting she is fine.
The party lights their torches and carefully makes their way down the spiral staircase. Their shadows cast long, flitting mirages on the walls and steps. The fading screeches and futile banging of the drake only adds to the ambience.
The spiral staircase ends in a small room with only one exit. The door is smashed and fallen to the side.
The party exits through the door and witness the sight before them.
They have entered a giant worked stone cavern, at least 10 times larger and taller than the great hall at CSM’s entrance. However, instead of it being mostly wide and empty space, this place is crossed by dozens of long tracks and scaffolds. It looks, to Colden and Sus’Ann, like a miner’s cavern, but instead of rail carts and rail tracks, the tracks have leather belts and pulleys on them.
Many of the leather belts are torn and shredded. They appear to be each driven by their own independent rolling or turning mechanism. Those tracks/belts that are intact are carrying trays of sweetrolls and other goodies on them, moving them about quickly and haphazardly in patterns and crisscosses that even the most intelligent in the party can’t fathom or trace.
There must be at least 100 golems, maybe more, all working constantly. They appear to be mostly stone or clay golems, though there are a few metal golems among them. Regardless of their type, they all have the same pattern on them, blue and red checkers with giant white labels on their backs and fronts:
Cora’s Sugar Manufacturing
They are all working, though they aren’t all in good condition. Some of them have broken arms or are missing legs. One of them even has its head completely smashed in and is wandering about aimlessly with a broom. A few arms and legs are moving and working independently their bodies, crawling around or hopping around alone and doing what they can to keep the strange machinery running.
Most of the machinery, however, doesn’t appear to be functional. There are dozens of giant vats on dead coal furnaces. Most of them are completely empty, but the golems still continue to stir whatever their insides previously held with long poles and oars.
One track is dumping sweetrolls directly onto the ground. A long line of golems is picking them up and putting them back on the start of the track, only to be dumped back on the ground a few minutes later.
Several old contraptions, presumably for decorating the sweetrolls, have fallen into the track and destroyed it. But the golems around it continue to go about their tasks as though the track is still fully functional. They heave on and off empty platters and containers.
The golems all work with such tirelessness and single-mindedness that you expect they have been doing this very pattern for decades, if not since the Darkening.
In the center of them all appears to be a leader or sergeant golem. He is shouting orders and insults at the other golems.
“Keep alive, men, we’ve got a shipment that’s over 200 years due! If you weren’t all a bunch of slackers, we could have had this done by now! I’ll have you thrown in the brig if you don’t cleanup this mess! Do you think Lelelinicon would approve of your laziness?! The people of Bladenfire are counting on us, you sods!”
As the party steps into the room to get a better view, 3 DINGS! sound from Colden’s pocket and an answering BONG! from somewhere ahead of them announces the appearance of the same elven lady they saw in the great hall.
“Look alive, men!” shouts the golem. “We’ve got a group of unscheduled visitors! I should have you all whipped for looking so dusty! Haven’t one of you at least been through the washer since our last visitor 200 years ago??!”
“And now, my friends,” says the elven lady, indicating the hall with her closed-fingered open palm, as she appears out of the ground somewhere in front of them, “the moment you’ve all been waiting for!
“May I present to you the pride of Cora, the workforce that brings such sweets and delights to your tongues, our very own fully-autonomous workforce developed and maintained by our partners, Lelelinicon’s Golems Incorporated!”
She pauses as the fake sound of applause rings around her.
“As you can see, they work tirelessly all night and all day, never needing a break...”
The elven lady suddenly disappears and fizzles, but there is no ensuing explosion.
“Back to work, you lot!” screams the leader golem. “Show’s over, stop gawking at the newcomers like you’ve never seen them before!”
Colden again finds himself gawking at the sights in front of them. There's no written documentation on anything like this in the entire library of Astorwind! The kingdom have heroes who have traversed the planes, the forests, the hills and the mountains but none have ever reported of anything as grand as this. He again scribbles notes and quickly draws a few pictures of what he sees, the golems working (and talking!), the neverending work and the strange machinations.
"Oh.. now what?" He thinks to himself. He tries to stretch up and look confident, it's important for group morale to have an assertive leader.
"Very well, pull up your chins from the floor, lads and lasses!" (clever, a quick joke to lighten their hearts) "No then, let's keep together as a group and move through the area. Watch out for exploding Projected Images. That lady won't hit us twice!"
Thinking about the Gnome's obsession with sweetrolls and the vast amount of golems Colden also turn to the Gnome and says "Gnome.. eeh.. Master, let's take it easy here and not steal, ahem take, things that aren't ours. Who knows how these golems will react."
Colden starts to slowly walk but then he thinks about something.. the elf Image called them visitors, so perhaps these golems will be friendy? He approaches the talking Golem and asks in a friendly voice, a voice which smoothness he has practiced over many, many years of diplomatic discussions: "My friend, we are visitors from.. Colden's Rock'n Sweetrolls, home of the sweetest trolls (and rolls!) of all the lands, here to inspect the premises. Do you know if there's an exit through from this area, perhaps even though the mountain?". He ends by flashing one of the red cards and holding it up accompanied with a wide and genuine (ahem.. ) smile.
Sus'Ann gawks at the spectacle for some time, then she starts to follow Colden slowly, murmuring behind his back.
"You have pretty good smell for a dwarven scholar, hah."
"SWEEEEETROOOOOOLLLLSSS!" cries out the gnome at the sight, and then listening to Colden's warning, he says: "What! How could that be? You are simply paranoid, minion! Now watch, and learn!"
He makes a swift movement of his hands, clicks his fingers, and motions towards a sweetroll on the tracks.
The sergeant golem looks at Colden as the dwarf addresses him. His screaming changes to a polite and proper voice.
"Ahh, good sir," he says obsequiously with a plastic smile, "I am but a simple golem, incapable of most conversation. I am instructed to tell you that I have some pre-programmed responses to specific stimuli, but I doubt any of my answers will satisfy you. One of the most frequent questions I get, however, is in regards to my 'gruffness'. Rest assured, I was programmed that way as part of the tour, for your benefit. My masters thought it would be educational to have me imitate a more barbaric time before fully developed automation. Please rest assured that my 'men' here do not have any feelings and are not in any way mistreated. They do not even perceive my temper or mannerisms at all. Orders are issued to them automatically via Elemental Air Plane's Proprietary Magical Link. If you have any questions, I urge you to wait until the tour has brought you to the gift shop. Thank you so much for visiting Cora's Sugar Manufacturing, and may your life be made sweeter!"
He bows deeply.
Then his demeanor completely changes and he resumes screaming at the other golems at the top of his "lungs".
The Nameless Gnome finishes his spell. One of the sweetrolls flies out of a golem's grip to land squarely in Nameless Gnome's hand. The golem doesn't react and continues on with his "duties" as though nothing had happened.
The sergeant golem screams out, "Look alive, men! Make sure the tourists get the best samples we can give! Your paychecks depend on it!!"
Of course, you can all easily guess that there are no paychecks.
Now that the sweetroll is near you, you can all see that it is so old and dry that it must be like eating plaster. The sugared icing on it is hard as a rock and the bread, once a bright yellow, is now dull and gray. Despite its age, there are no signs of rot or mold.
Just then, the yellow plate inside Lagrord's jacket flashes and gives off a small DING!
The head golem turns to Lagrord, his obsequious, painted smile reappearing on his emotionless, red and blue checkered face.
"Ahh, good sir," he begins again, "I'm so glad to see that management heeded my request to send the repair team! May your life be made sweeter!"
Then he stands up straight and an image of a glowing map appears on his chest. He says in a empty, toneless voice, "Damages detected in... sector 1... repairs needed... damages detected in... sector 2... repairs needed... damages detected in... sector 3... repairs needed..." As he speaks, the associated, labeled sectors show up on his map, highlighting the various areas of the complex where damages have been detected. On the side of his chest is a detailed list of the recorded damages in each sector, and they are quite extensive.
He continues like this, reaching "...damages detected in...sector 29... repairs needed..." without any sign of stopping. You don't know how many sectors there are, but you can guess he is likely to list every single one of them. Given the size of the building, you imagine that could be a very long list indeed.
Captain Nareth is dumbfoundedly gazing around. This time the amount of inexplicable and sorcery exceeded all limits. Congenital hostility to magic and and everything beyond the 'normal' physical understanding, plunged the captain into an apathy. The only thing he could think about right now is the King's mission.
" Well .. Master Kladen is the brain of our entire party. I think he understands what he does ... I HOPE, he understands, if only ... "
Naret found nothing better than to fix his helmet, breastplate and gauntlets. He checked the sword and luggage and turned his face to Kefto and Jirt:
" Enough, lads! Whatever it is, prepare yeself for battle... ", he said more for discipline, although he himself understood that their swords and shields would not help much against the spells that permeated this place. Yes and these golems. With their numbers, they will simply crush them, it is worth relying on Colden, and let him do the talking.
Ah, yes, the talking. Nareth is not a communicative person himself and prefers actions rather than words. This is his problem in most cases. He approaches Colden and whispers:
" These infidel artificial humans from a past! I have heard about them. Kept alive by magic, or technology or, Refiner knows, what else! We must be gone soon, I heard, they turn living beings into these.. golems, Master Colden! ", the Nareth's voice shakes and he certainly did not shared Colden's curiosity.
Colden has no idea what to do or where to go. Of course he cannot let the team understand this, they must remain confident in his ability to lead.. what to do?
"Team, gather up around me. So, let's have a group talk. What do you suggest we do next? I've already made up my mind of the best next course of action, but before I tell you I want to hear you suggestions."
(Ahh.. perfect. Now all I have to do is choose the best one and say I had planned the exact same way. I'm a genius.. )
" *Ahem!..* M'Lord Colden! I do insist on continuing our quest! This is indeed a dangerous place and Refiner knows what these.. things are up to. They are weak and broken but easily outnumber us. Folks say, golems are hard to break and destroy. Me men are ready for battle, but Jirt is badly injured.. calm yeself down, mate... and he can not fight that efficiently for a while! We need to move on and pass these halls. We must seek for an exit from these dungeons and continue our mission on the other side. ", unusually long speech confused the captain. He straighten his helmet once more and rubbed his beard.
"If I may, the golem seems to respond to me, maybe I can get it to show us the closest exit."
I don't want to bog us down by not posting often. I'll post my action below, but if the party doesn't go with Laggy's suggestion, everyone can safely ignore it. I migh not be able to post again today.
*Lagrord walks up to the seargant golem*
"Golem! My prescence has been requested at the rear exit, but extensive damage blocks the main path. Bring up your map so I may study it!"
The golem continues to recite, “...damages detected in... sector 39... repairs needed...”
However, the map enlarged to show your current location. It appears to be interactive. On the side of it, where the damages listed, a line of text shows up.
“There are 4 exits in the building...
running diagnostics...
damages detected in...
Main exit...
Rear exit...
Top exit...
Side exit...
Please contact emergency evacuation personnel...”
Lagrord inadvertently touched the map and it interacts with his fingers. It zooms in on your current location. It is highlighting between alternating red and yellow, indicating that your current sector is damaged and unsafe for use. You can see the layout of the building from here, but whether or not the areas are or are not actually safe for travel is a mystery, as everywhere appears to be damaged, even where you first entered the complex.
Colden nodded at Lagrord's suggestion and quickly says as Laggie walks up to the golem.
"Yes, that was exactly the same course of action I had in mind. Clever my boy! Almost as clever as your old tutor, hehe.. " He ends that sentence with a wink and a smile.
" Is it object-oriented programming or just scripting? Or maybe some VSL ", asks Nareth. Just joking, he is illiterate and studied Pascal and Visual Basic in college
" Oi, me son! What does it say here? Magicka grimoire or what? ", Nareth peaks on the screen. All equipment and gear seems to be completely unfamiliar. The captain was strongly against disturbing Golem Sergeant, but Lagrord's actions were faster and got him unarmed.
While Lagrord and Nareth checks out the computer, Colden takes one more sweeping gaze around their perimeter, trying to see if anything in particular stands out as interesting. He looks for buttons, items or exit ways etc.
Comments
"Wait, my minions! Before you go down the stairs, it's necessary to drop something down that way! Yes! We need to ascertain the height of the staircase, failing which there can be... disastrous consequences! Now, if you have something round and hard... throw it down that way! Yes! And keep your ears open for its sound! Wait... what is banging on that door?" The gnome looks at the door which Lagrord had just closed (and outside which the Drake was, but the gnome doesn't know that), and says: "Ah, a visitor knocking on the door! It would be extremely impolite to keep them waiting! Let me open the door!"
The gnome scampers upto that door and attempts to open it.
"Oh no you won't!" Colden, being caught a bit unawares loses his selfcontrol for a second and lashes our and grabs the gnome by his arm and jerk him back. Being of no minor physique, a dusty lorekeeper though he is, his jerk is unintentionally hard and abrupt.
"Oowwee! What's wrong with you, Minion? Such an abrupt and unmoderated physical contact is highly inappropriate. Wait, I remember something... somebody else tried to do that to me before. Ah! I remember! I remember! You are one of those elven lassies in disguise! Yes, you ARE! Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Well.. eehh.. perhaps I am, but that's for me to know and for you to guess! But Mister Gnome, I think I could smell something down the stairs, something oddly familiar. I'm not sure, but perhaps it's the sweet, delicate smell of a sweetroll? Perhaps you could go down there and check it out?"
He stops mid sentence at a shake of Garta’s head, cautioning him to let Colden handle it
As Lagrord, finishes up the last touches on dressing into his new armor, Garta, leaning on the door frame, drops a metal trophy down the center of the staircase. It hits the bottom a few seconds later in the darkness, indicating it is about the same distance.
Once Lagrord is dressed (and quite dashing), Garta leans on him for her support again, smiling and suddenly self-conscious in her mannerisms. She may be impressed by the half-orc’s new look.
The party lights their torches and carefully makes their way down the spiral staircase. Their shadows cast long, flitting mirages on the walls and steps. The fading screeches and futile banging of the drake only adds to the ambience.
The spiral staircase ends in a small room with only one exit. The door is smashed and fallen to the side.
The party exits through the door and witness the sight before them.
Many of the leather belts are torn and shredded. They appear to be each driven by their own independent rolling or turning mechanism. Those tracks/belts that are intact are carrying trays of sweetrolls and other goodies on them, moving them about quickly and haphazardly in patterns and crisscosses that even the most intelligent in the party can’t fathom or trace.
But the most astonishing thing are the golems.
Cora’s Sugar Manufacturing
They are all working, though they aren’t all in good condition. Some of them have broken arms or are missing legs. One of them even has its head completely smashed in and is wandering about aimlessly with a broom. A few arms and legs are moving and working independently their bodies, crawling around or hopping around alone and doing what they can to keep the strange machinery running.
One track is dumping sweetrolls directly onto the ground. A long line of golems is picking them up and putting them back on the start of the track, only to be dumped back on the ground a few minutes later.
Several old contraptions, presumably for decorating the sweetrolls, have fallen into the track and destroyed it. But the golems around it continue to go about their tasks as though the track is still fully functional. They heave on and off empty platters and containers.
The golems all work with such tirelessness and single-mindedness that you expect they have been doing this very pattern for decades, if not since the Darkening.
“Keep alive, men, we’ve got a shipment that’s over 200 years due! If you weren’t all a bunch of slackers, we could have had this done by now! I’ll have you thrown in the brig if you don’t cleanup this mess! Do you think Lelelinicon would approve of your laziness?! The people of Bladenfire are counting on us, you sods!”
As the party steps into the room to get a better view, 3 DINGS! sound from Colden’s pocket and an answering BONG! from somewhere ahead of them announces the appearance of the same elven lady they saw in the great hall.
“Look alive, men!” shouts the golem. “We’ve got a group of unscheduled visitors! I should have you all whipped for looking so dusty! Haven’t one of you at least been through the washer since our last visitor 200 years ago??!”
“And now, my friends,” says the elven lady, indicating the hall with her closed-fingered open palm, as she appears out of the ground somewhere in front of them, “the moment you’ve all been waiting for!
“May I present to you the pride of Cora, the workforce that brings such sweets and delights to your tongues, our very own fully-autonomous workforce developed and maintained by our partners, Lelelinicon’s Golems Incorporated!”
She pauses as the fake sound of applause rings around her.
“As you can see, they work tirelessly all night and all day, never needing a break...”
The elven lady suddenly disappears and fizzles, but there is no ensuing explosion.
“Back to work, you lot!” screams the leader golem. “Show’s over, stop gawking at the newcomers like you’ve never seen them before!”
What do you do?
"Oh.. now what?" He thinks to himself. He tries to stretch up and look confident, it's important for group morale to have an assertive leader.
"Very well, pull up your chins from the floor, lads and lasses!" (clever, a quick joke to lighten their hearts) "No then, let's keep together as a group and move through the area. Watch out for exploding Projected Images. That lady won't hit us twice!"
Thinking about the Gnome's obsession with sweetrolls and the vast amount of golems Colden also turn to the Gnome and says "Gnome.. eeh.. Master, let's take it easy here and not steal, ahem take, things that aren't ours. Who knows how these golems will react."
Colden starts to slowly walk but then he thinks about something.. the elf Image called them visitors, so perhaps these golems will be friendy? He approaches the talking Golem and asks in a friendly voice, a voice which smoothness he has practiced over many, many years of diplomatic discussions: "My friend, we are visitors from.. Colden's Rock'n Sweetrolls, home of the sweetest trolls (and rolls!) of all the lands, here to inspect the premises. Do you know if there's an exit through from this area, perhaps even though the mountain?". He ends by flashing one of the red cards and holding it up accompanied with a wide and genuine (ahem.. ) smile.
"You have pretty good smell for a dwarven scholar, hah."
He makes a swift movement of his hands, clicks his fingers, and motions towards a sweetroll on the tracks.
"Ahh, good sir," he says obsequiously with a plastic smile, "I am but a simple golem, incapable of most conversation. I am instructed to tell you that I have some pre-programmed responses to specific stimuli, but I doubt any of my answers will satisfy you. One of the most frequent questions I get, however, is in regards to my 'gruffness'. Rest assured, I was programmed that way as part of the tour, for your benefit. My masters thought it would be educational to have me imitate a more barbaric time before fully developed automation. Please rest assured that my 'men' here do not have any feelings and are not in any way mistreated. They do not even perceive my temper or mannerisms at all. Orders are issued to them automatically via Elemental Air Plane's Proprietary Magical Link. If you have any questions, I urge you to wait until the tour has brought you to the gift shop. Thank you so much for visiting Cora's Sugar Manufacturing, and may your life be made sweeter!"
He bows deeply.
Then his demeanor completely changes and he resumes screaming at the other golems at the top of his "lungs".
The sergeant golem screams out, "Look alive, men! Make sure the tourists get the best samples we can give! Your paychecks depend on it!!"
Of course, you can all easily guess that there are no paychecks.
Now that the sweetroll is near you, you can all see that it is so old and dry that it must be like eating plaster. The sugared icing on it is hard as a rock and the bread, once a bright yellow, is now dull and gray. Despite its age, there are no signs of rot or mold.
The head golem turns to Lagrord, his obsequious, painted smile reappearing on his emotionless, red and blue checkered face.
"Ahh, good sir," he begins again, "I'm so glad to see that management heeded my request to send the repair team! May your life be made sweeter!"
Then he stands up straight and an image of a glowing map appears on his chest. He says in a empty, toneless voice, "Damages detected in... sector 1... repairs needed... damages detected in... sector 2... repairs needed... damages detected in... sector 3... repairs needed..." As he speaks, the associated, labeled sectors show up on his map, highlighting the various areas of the complex where damages have been detected. On the side of his chest is a detailed list of the recorded damages in each sector, and they are quite extensive.
He continues like this, reaching "...damages detected in...sector 29... repairs needed..." without any sign of stopping. You don't know how many sectors there are, but you can guess he is likely to list every single one of them. Given the size of the building, you imagine that could be a very long list indeed.
Naret found nothing better than to fix his helmet, breastplate and gauntlets. He checked the sword and luggage and turned his face to Kefto and Jirt:
" Enough, lads! Whatever it is, prepare yeself for battle... ", he said more for discipline, although he himself understood that their swords and shields would not help much against the spells that permeated this place. Yes and these golems. With their numbers, they will simply crush them, it is worth relying on Colden, and let him do the talking.
Ah, yes, the talking. Nareth is not a communicative person himself and prefers actions rather than words. This is his problem in most cases. He approaches Colden and whispers:
" These infidel artificial humans from a past! I have heard about them. Kept alive by magic, or technology or, Refiner knows, what else! We must be gone soon, I heard, they turn living beings into these.. golems, Master Colden! ", the Nareth's voice shakes and he certainly did not shared Colden's curiosity.
He turns and gives Nareth an encouraging wink, sensing Nareth's superstition for all of this.
"Team, gather up around me. So, let's have a group talk. What do you suggest we do next? I've already made up my mind of the best next course of action, but before I tell you I want to hear you suggestions."
(Ahh.. perfect. Now all I have to do is choose the best one and say I had planned the exact same way. I'm a genius.. )
" *Ahem!..* M'Lord Colden! I do insist on continuing our quest! This is indeed a dangerous place and Refiner knows what these.. things are up to. They are weak and broken but easily outnumber us. Folks say, golems are hard to break and destroy. Me men are ready for battle, but Jirt is badly injured.. calm yeself down, mate... and he can not fight that efficiently for a while! We need to move on and pass these halls. We must seek for an exit from these dungeons and continue our mission on the other side. ", unusually long speech confused the captain. He straighten his helmet once more and rubbed his beard.
*Lagrord walks up to the seargant golem*
"Golem! My prescence has been requested at the rear exit, but extensive damage blocks the main path. Bring up your map so I may study it!"
Well now, this certainly feels different.
However, the map enlarged to show your current location. It appears to be interactive. On the side of it, where the damages listed, a line of text shows up.
“There are 4 exits in the building...
running diagnostics...
damages detected in...
Main exit...
Rear exit...
Top exit...
Side exit...
Please contact emergency evacuation personnel...”
Lagrord inadvertently touched the map and it interacts with his fingers. It zooms in on your current location. It is highlighting between alternating red and yellow, indicating that your current sector is damaged and unsafe for use. You can see the layout of the building from here, but whether or not the areas are or are not actually safe for travel is a mystery, as everywhere appears to be damaged, even where you first entered the complex.
The text then continues:
“Selection:
1. Main
2. Diagnostics
3. Manual
4. Programming
5. Log-in”
"Yes, that was exactly the same course of action I had in mind. Clever my boy! Almost as clever as your old tutor, hehe.. " He ends that sentence with a wink and a smile.
" Oi, me son! What does it say here? Magicka grimoire or what? ", Nareth peaks on the screen. All equipment and gear seems to be completely unfamiliar. The captain was strongly against disturbing Golem Sergeant, but Lagrord's actions were faster and got him unarmed.