Author's Note: In the game, it's flesh golems vs metallic golems. I'm assuming that's done for the player's convenience in identification...although it certainly may be possible that one's physical construction could determine aspects of one's mentality and also be a source of clannishness, prejudice and discrimination. (In fact, that seems rather likely. Maybe the golems' society hasn't 'evolved' to that point...)
19...Maker's Isle
Cavallas, with little apparent effort, guided the boat through the darkness. The boat seemed to propel itself by some magical means but Haer'Dalis had never had much interest in such contraptions, convenient as they were. The kobold, naturally, had poked and prodded into every dark corner and cupboard and pestered Cavallas with countless questions until the boatman threatened to throw him overboard.
The sound of the water ought to be soothing after so much silence in these caverns, Haer'Dalis thought. But there is no music in this water...only ominous echoes.The breeze didn't sigh here, nor did birds sing. Even the insects (if there were any) were silent. Haer'Dalis had tried to strike up a conversation with the mysterious boatman but gave up after receiving a series of monosyllabic and increasingly curt answers. Since he wasn't a good swimmer, it seemed foolish to press his luck.
That left Deekin and Valen for conversation. Valen was about as close-mouthed as Cavallas, and very nearly as dour. A great pity.
Of course, it took much more than that to discourage the kobold.
"This Maker is a duergar mage?" Deekin asked. "Deekin not knowing much about duergar."
"I've met plenty in battle," Valen said. "The Valsharess has many duergar mercenaries."
"Why they have beards but bald heads?" Deekin asked. "Seems like hair ought to grow all over. Or not at all."
"How would I know?" Valen asked. "Besides, you're wrong. Duergar don't all have beards."
"Do too."
"Do not," Valen said. "The females don't have beards."
"Huh," Deekin said skeptically. "Dwarves on surface all have beards. Females too."
"Well, we're not on the surface now, are we?"
"Guess not," Deekin said. "Do tieflings have beards?"
"It depends," Haer'Dalis said. "I don't grow facial hair. Not all humans do, either."
"I have to shave," Valen said. "If I don't, I end up with a goatee." They all stared at him. Even Cavallas turned his hood in Valen's direction. "What?" Valen asked.
"We are all trying to picture this," Haer'Dalis said.
"Then stop," Valen said.
"Deekin be wanting to see goatee."
"Not on me, you wouldn't," Valen said. "A goatee makes me look very...devilish."
The kobold giggled. "Goatman really needs goatee."
"What did you call me?" Valen asked.
"Does Boatman have a beard?" Deekin asked.
"No," Cavallas said, in a conversation-killing tone.
Holding back a chuckle, Haer'Dalis turned to look out over the rail. There was no glitter of light to add beauty to the dark, dangerous water.
When they arrived at Maker's Isle, there was a battered boat tied up to an ancient stone piling. Cavallas hissed something inaudible.
"I thought you said only you could navigate this river," Haer'Dalis said.
"Only I can do so safely," Cavallas said. "Duergar do come to this island from time to time."
"Why?" Haer'Dalis asked.
"Ask them," Cavallas snapped. Clearly annoyed, he did some back and forth fiddling to bring the boat to a less convenient tie-off point. The three surfacers clambered ashore.
There were about twenty duergar huddled in a well-established campground. A low and rickety shed had been built from rubble and roofed with scrap metal. It appeared to be a permanent installation and there were bedrolls inside. They don't need protection from weather, Haer'Dalis thought. Are there flying predators, perhaps? Or are they just more comfortable sleeping under cover? He wondered why they hadn't sheltered in the ruins he saw further up the hill. Perhaps the building was too damaged?
Valen poked Deekin with his tail. "See? No beards on the ladies," he whispered.
The kobold already had his pack open. "Deekin writing this down."
A female duergar approached. The other dwarves rose to stand in a loose, casual circle, hands not far from their weapons.
"So," the female said. "What brings surfacers to our island?"
"We are searching for allies," Haer'Dalis asked.
"Allies?" the woman scoffed. "For what purpose?"
"Have you heard of the Valsharess?"
"Are you with her or against her?" She snorted. "Let me guess, surfacer. You're with that rag-tag lot in Lith My'athar."
"Aye," Haer'Dalis said.
"We stay out of drow politics," she told him. "Matron mothers come and matron mothers go. We keep our heads down and mind our own business."
"When her armies come this way, you won't be able to keep your heads down," he said mildly.
"We'll take our chances," she said firmly. "Now, was there anything else?"
"My apologies for not introducing ourselves. I am Haer'Dalis, and this is Valen and Deekin."
"Dahanna."
"Mistress Dahanna, we were wondering what you could tell us of this island. We had heard a duergar mage lived here but the building we have seen so far appears to be abandoned. Deekin here is a writer. He collects stories." The kobold's eyes glittered.
Dahanna relaxed slightly. "If it's stories you want, we have stories aplenty."
The duergar told several tales of the mage Alsigard the Maker, who had sought knowledge and power for many years both in the Underdark and on the surface. At some point, he had retreated to this very island to perfect his golems. It was said he had discovered the secret to making sentient golems.
"Sentient golems!" Haer'Dalis said. "That seems almost a contradiction of terms."
"Yes," Dahanna said. "It does seem incredible. There are golems here, patrolling the ruins and whatever lies below them. Although exceptionally well-made, these act like normal golems. So perhaps sentient golems are a myth. Likely they are. In five hundred years, there has been no sign of Alsigard or his sentient golems."
Haer'Dalis was surprised to see that at some point, Deekin had left the circle and was prowling around the edge of the group. He thought he'd be busy taking notes. "What then brings you to this island, if Alsigard is gone?" he asked.
Dahanna hesitated and then she smiled. A rather false smile, Haer'Dalis thought. "Salvage," she said. "Sometimes we find interesting bits of scrap in the ruins."
"That is worth your time? Traveling here must be dangerous," Valen said.
"We can defend ourselves." She shrugged. "You'd be surprised what collectors will pay for odd curiosities. Mages will buy even a fragment of a broken golem, if it is said to be one of Alsigard's making."
One of the duergar told Dahanna their meal was prepared. They were keeping a cold, dark camp, Haer'Dalis noticed. No lights, no cookfire. It was clear the dwarves had no intention of sharing their food or extending any other hospitality.
Deekin put his clawed hand on Haer'Dalis' leg to get his attention then he jerked his head towards the rocky beach. Haer'Dalis and Valen followed the kobold back to the boat.
"We could have camped with more comfort in the ruins," Valen said.
"Don't think so," Deekin said.
"Why do you say that? Did you hear something?" Haer'Dalis asked.
"Deekin hears duergar whispering about surfacers' fine armor and weapons. Thinking they be getting our stuff when we die in ruins. Big dangerous golems in ruins. Lots of traps, too. This Alsigard guy not sounding too friendly."
"I've fought golems before," Valen said.
"They say there's a special golem that fixes the others. They say they fight the same golems over and over. They never get too far into the ruins and they've been trying for years. So Deekin wondering. Why we here?"
"Why do you think?" Valen snarled but Haer'Dalis held up his hand.
"We want golems. Right?" Deekin asked. "How we get them?"
"From the mage?" Haer'Dalis asked. "I suppose...I thought he was here and we could perhaps convince him to ally with us."
"You think you're that persuasive?" Valen asked. Haer'Dalis smiled but didn't answer.
"How long duergar live?" Deekin asked. "Five hundred years long time even for duergar, Deekin thinking."
"He was said to be a powerful mage," Haer'Dalis said. "Elminster is older than that."
"Halaster too," Deekin said. "But people see them. No one's seen this Alsigard guy. Don't he have friends? Don't he need food? Don't he ever get bored? Five hundred years a long time to stay in one place."
"You think he's dead?" Haer'Dalis asked.
Deekin shrugged. "Yep. Makes sense. If the Maker's dead, how we take his golems?"
"I don't actually know," Valen said slowly. "Damn it. Did we come on a fool's errand?"
"I talked to Gulhrys about golems before we left Lith My'athar," Haer'Dalis said. "He said when mages sell golems, they transfer control in various ways. Maybe a control phrase or a rod or orb."
"Okay," Deekin said. "But if Alsigard's dead, how we get control thingy? And if he's alive, and we go in there...and we break his traps...fight and maybe kill his golems...you think that piss him off? Then maybe he not want to help us?" His dark eyes blinked up at Haer'Dalis. "That's kind of how we pissed off Halaster."
There was a silence as Valen and Haer'Dalis exchanged glum looks.
"Do you have a suggestion?" Haer'Dalis asked.
"Um…" Deekin rummaged in his pack and pulled out a wrapped bundle. "Yep."
"You want to use the Mirror of All-Seeing?" Haer'Dalis asked, amazed.
"Deekin been practising."
"What?" Valen said. "Why? We were going to leave that to the Seer!"
Deekin gave a sheepish grin and shuffled his feet.
"Surely the mirror is very dangerous," Haer'Dalis said.
"Better to find out now, Deekin thinking. Before we go back to Seer. Not put her in danger."
"I suppose that makes a kind of tenuous sense," Haer'Dalis said. "Or at least serves as a justification for curiosity," he muttered.
"Not to me, it doesn't," Valen said. "No sense at all. You haven't spied on Halaster, I hope."
"Nope. Deekin not that dumb. First checked on avariel. They on surface now. Seem okay."
"You can see all the way to the surface?" Haer'Dalis asked.
"Yep. That Elicid fellow, they call him the Fool...he very silly now. Likes to twirl around and flap his wings. Falls down a lot. Sometimes queen lady cries when no one sees her." He scuffed his boot across the decking. "Wish I hadn't seen that."
"Anything else?" Valen asked.
"Looked at old Boss. Tymofarrar. He a white dragon. He be real fat now. I told him he needs to get some exercise. Cut back on the pies. He said, 'Deekin, shut up. Mind your own business.' You'd think he'd at least say 'hi' or something."
"You can speak through the mirror?" Haer'Dalis asked.
"Sometimes. They gots to know magic though. Tried talking to Solaufein but he not hear me."
"What is he doing?" Valen asked.
"Walking through some big dark cave. Looked kind of mad about something. 'Course, he usually looks that way."
"Can you find Alsigard with the mirror?" Haer'Dalis asked.
"Thought I'd try."
"Hope he's not as touchy as Halaster," Valen said.
Deekin sat cross-legged on the deck with the mirror in his lap. Valen and Haer'Dalis sat on a bench behind him so they could look over his shoulder.
"This might be boring," Deekin warned. "I did peek through the door to the building so I know where to start. But I can only see a little at a time. Going to have to…" He twirled one claw in the air. "You know, kind of walk my way through. Since I don't know the Maker guy. Can't jump to him. Going to have to look for him."
Very disorienting, Haer'Dalis thought, as the view through the mirror gradually shifted along a corridor. The building had clearly been a marvel of engineering and even now was well-lit with mage lights. There was dust everywhere, so thick that it was easy to see the path that had been worn through it in an undeviating pattern. Where does the dust come from? There must be a ventilation system bringing it in. The path wasn't just worn through the dust, he realized, but through the stone underneath it. These golems are so mindless, they don't even vary their steps.
"Uh, oh," Deekin said. "Dead dwarf." Haer'Dalis had gradually become aware he could hear sound through the mirror. A steady, thudding sound. The duergar lay stretched out across the floor. Crushed. Blood and other fluids oozed around him. Was this poor fellow in here dying even as we talked to the others? The sounds became louder, now clearly footsteps. A huge golem appeared. Its eyes glowed. It didn't move its head or react in anyway to the body, other than to step on it in passing.
"Yuck," Deekin said.
"That is a very large golem," Valen said.
"Adamantine," Haer'Dalis said. "Very dangerous."
This level appeared to hold workshops, libraries and labs.
"Would like to see those books," Deekin said.
"Me too," Haer'Dalis said. "I wonder why the scavengers left them. There must be lower levels though. We need to see what is downstairs. Can you do that?"
Deekin started humming to himself. The tune reminded Haer'Dalis of the kobold's Finding Song.
"Closed doors. Tricky. Here's a portal. Don't know how to see through portal. Don't know where it goes."
"Is that the only way down?" Haer'Dalis asked. Valen shot him a look. "I am not over-fond of unknown portals," Haer'Dalis added.
"Nor am I," Valen said. "No one from Sigil could be."
"We need stairs," Deekin said. His humming got a bit louder. "Here we go."
"A ramp down? I suppose a ramp is more practical than stairs," Haer'Dalis said. "Looks rather steep."
"That is a very, very large golem," Valen said as they saw the golem that appeared to be guarding the ramp. And then the view through the mirror made a rather sickening swoop downwards. Haer'Dalis had to glance away for a moment to keep his stomach from roiling. The corridor opened into a large hallway. Like the previous level, this one was well lit but there was much less dust on the floor. The view from the mirror panned around the hall.
"Oh, look," Deekin said. "Here's more golems. They just be standing there." The view moved closer. "These be different from the others."
"Flesh golems," Haer'Dalis said.
"These be bigger than Berger," Deekin said. "Lots bigger. Scarier too."
"Who is Berger?" Valen asked.
"A golem we met in Undermountain. He said he was Halaster's son," Haer'Dalis said.
"A golem claimed to be Halaster's son? Now I know you're telling tales," Valen said.
"Undermountain is a strange place," Haer'Dalis said.
"Solaufein killed Berger," Deekin said. "That's why Halaster cursed him. Maybe we better not be killing any of these golems. Don't want Alsigard cursing us. Just saying."
"That would be assuming Alsigard still lives," Haer'Dalis said.
Deekin continued to use the mirror to look around the hall. Haer'Dalis gathered the kobold was using his thoughts to direct the direction and focus of the mirror. "Here's another one. This be metal golem. Um. What they be doing?"
The three flesh golems bent down. When they stood, they each brandished a hammer.
"Interesting. I can't say I've ever seen a golem pick up and use a weapon," Haer'Dalis said.
The flesh golems advanced upon the iron golem, which had stopped in mid stride.
"This is neutral territory," the iron golem said.
"It initiates speech!" Haer'Dalis said in delight. Deekin shushed him.
"Not anymore," said one of the flesh golems.
"By the word of Aghaaz, heretics will no longer be allowed here," said another flesh golem.
"That is unacceptable," said the iron golem. "We must be allowed equal proximity to the Power Stone."
The three flesh golems raised their hammers. "Retreat," said the first flesh golem. "Or be disassembled."
The iron golem took a step backward. "Ferron will be informed," it said.
"Do so."
"They don't just talk," Haer'Dalis said. "They argue! They threaten! Surely these are the sentient golems Dahanna mentioned."
"Can they hear us through the mirror?" Valen asked.
"Hey! Golems!" Deekin called. He tapped the glass. "Hey!" The three flesh golems returned to their original location. One of them spoke.
"Inform Aghaaz," it said. One of the other golems dropped its hammer and retreated to the corridor behind them.
"Don't think they be hearing us," Deekin said.
"Can you follow that golem?" Haer'Dalis asked. "See where it goes and who it reports to?"
"Yep. Easy peasy," Deekin said.
The corridors and rooms continued to be well lit and clean. They saw many other golems, most of them made of flesh, but some were stone, clay, or metallic. Some golems were busy cleaning. A few worked at forges or anvils, but Haer'Dalis couldn't tell what they were crafting. Others stood idle. At last the golem they followed stopped before a huge winged flesh golem.
"That's demon flesh," Valen said.
"Are you certain?" Haer'Dalis asked.
"Very certain," Valen said. "I've seen many demonflesh golems in the Blood Wars. Devils like to make them."
"Sounds icky," Deekin said.
"It is a good reason not to fall in battle," Valen said.
"Aghaaz, we encountered one of the heretics," the flesh golem said. "It said it would inform Ferron of the new boundary."
"Ferron will send in a force of its golems," Aghaaz said. Its voice was deep, resonant and certainly did not seem as mechanical as golems Haer'Dalis had heard in the past.
"Will we fight?" the first golem asked.
"Yes," Aghaaz said. "Now we must fight."
"Ferron has many followers."
"Yes. But if we can push them back far enough from the Power Stone, they will eventually lose sentience and become passive."
"That seems...logical," the golem said.
"You have doubts?" Aghaaz said.
There was a long silence. Then the golem spoke. "To destroy our siblings seems...inefficient. Could the Maker truly wish this?"
"Ferron wishes to leave the island," Aghaaz said. "It wishes to become 'free'. To do so, Ferron must take the Power Stone. Its selfish desires would doom the rest of us." Aghaaz stood very still but for a moment, its leathery wings lifted and then fell. "If Ferron truly desires to leave, it must pay the price and lose sentience. But Ferron would take its freedom and have us pay the price instead."
"Your words are logical," the flesh golem said. "And I will obey. As always. But it feels...wrong."
"The Maker ordered me to protect my siblings and I will do so. Sometimes what must be done feels...wrong. As you say. But this is the Maker's will. I see no other option."
"Could we not ask the Maker to intervene?"
"Ferron controls the access to the lower level, as we control the Power Stone," Aghaaz said. "Even if we choose to disobey the Maker's order to not disturb him, we cannot do so unless Ferron allows it. Ferron dares not allow us downstairs. Especially now. Ferron knows it is in defiance of the Maker's will. Ferron's rebellion requires the Maker's silence."
"They seem to believe this Maker is alive," Valen said. "Could that be possible?"
"Deekin, can you find the ramp down?" Haer'Dalis asked.
"I'm on it," Deekin said. He began to hum.
