The Bandersnatch, at least, has better manners than this.
Beta'd by… just me, this time.
For all that this feral mutant had done his level best to drag me off balance by yanking on Geirskögul, he sure as shit wasn't expecting it to shimmer and disappear as I shrunk down into the shape of a Pachirisu, and nor was he expecting the Thunderbolt I nailed him with.
Unfortunately, he was more than hardy enough to wade through my attack, and though I managed to pull together a Protect shield in time to prevent his claws from drawing blood, the impact still sent me flying despite me growing back into my human form to try and brace myself.
Morgan moved to set herself between me and the man, the reddish-purple glow of a gathering Dragon Pulse peeking out of her lips, but when she released the attack, the man pivoted out of the way so smoothly that he had to have been planning it from the beginning, plunging towards Tommy without even a modicum of hesitation like a slavering, snarling comet.
Rachel gestured, glowing slightly blue as she slammed him back with a telekinetic hammerblow, and above her, Castform invoked an echo of Groudon's blazing power, shifting into a ruddier, glowing form as she drew in power to discharge at him with the smell of freshly cut grass.
His nostrils flared as he moved again, nails sinking into the concrete briefly as he used all four limbs to hurl himself out of the path of Castform's Solarbeam.
I didn't even register that he'd aimed at me until he was already bowling me over, and with Protect just a hair too risky to attempt right now, I disguised my Nuzzle as an attempted headbutt that just glanced off his jaw.
As if by reflex, he snapped at my retreating head, and though he didn't really catch me, I could feel a jerk on my hair, as some of it got caught on his jaw, and his claws closed around my arms and shoved them down to the rough concrete with more force than I could hope to overcome even with the paralysis making him sluggish.
"You're mine!" he snarled, fangs bared as he brought his jaw down to rip my throat out.
"NO!" Lightning crackled through both of us, driven by Morgan's raw fury, and where it sent the man-beast into spasms, to me, it felt like a nice breakfast and a nice stretch, getting me all ready to throw down.
WIth him still twitching and unsteady, I managed to bring my feet up between us, plant them on his chest, and shove, getting my wrists a little scratched up as he tried to hold on, but ultimately nothing I couldn't survive, and with some breathing room, it was safer to shrink back down into Pachirisu, especially when I could safely bring up Protect again.
Of course, as the Forge flared up and discharged a fistful of flaming motes of light orbiting one larger one, that took a back seat to the memories of countless hours learning crafts both mundane and magical that accompanied the fires.
The years may have blurred together, learning every form of craft under the sun and then some, but the end result had not, and now, I knew how to create just about every kind of magical item that a self-respecting adventurer could name, and though I wasn't half as adept at wielding them, I could at least give a decent showing with all save those with the most stringent requirements, like the Holy Avenger or the trademark Silver Sword of the Githyanki.
On top of that, I could sense the toolset that I'd customized over half a decade in that odd half-place between this world and Limbo that my smithy lived in, ready for me to call them into the material world or return them to their repose in a heartbeat.
Of course, just because the Forge was moved to bestow new skills upon me didn't mean that the world was obligated to stand still about it, and with both Morgan and me seeming distracted, the man lunged directly towards me, claws out and fangs bared to eviscerate all sixteen inches of me.
About six inches before he would have slammed face-first into the Protect shield that I'd anchored into the ground, all the better to break his teeth off with, there was a flash of light from a glowing circular patch on the concrete that hadn't been there a second ago. Amidst the flash, two young women appeared. One was dressed like your typical young New Yorker out on the town, lime green pantsuit shifting as she turned around and her thick mane of curly hair swinging around almost as one solid mass as she took in her surroundings.
The other was Illyana, armor crawling up her arm over her pajamas in a wave of subtly unnerving light as she closed her fists around the hilt of a sword at least as wide as a surfboard and swung for the man like she was Jackie Robinson trying to put the ball over the fences.
To his credit, the man moved to dodge the sword almost before I'd recovered from the flash, and if he wasn't in mid-lunge and, crucially, out of reach of the ground, he might have managed it. As it was, though, the sword swept through his rib cage as if it wasn't there, and instead of ramming face-first into a properly anchored Protect, his shoulder hit it with the crack of broken bone, and he slumped limply to the ground.
For a moment, I thought Illyana'd killed him, before registering the lack of blood as well as the fact that, now I wasn't blocking it out for the fight, I could smell the rancid stench on his breath ebbing and flowing as he breathed.
"Thank you for your help, Illyana," I said, cracking my knuckles as I returned to human form.
"Happy to oblige," she replied, taking in our surroundings with a wary eye. Then, she continued, sounding more amused than anything else. "Although I don't think I needed to hit him quite as hard as I thought I did, given how strong that barrier is."
"Either way," said Morgan, "I am glad you did. Damn near gave me a heart attack, Mom."
"Hey, in my defense, I've face-tanked attacks from literal gods with that move," I said, rifling through my pockets and only finding the bag I'd kept the rings in. "Real quick, does anyone have any, like, rope or chains or something like that that we can be sure he won't bust out of? I'd prefer to make sure we're all fresh-ish for the fight, I'm not sure that Rachel just rebuilding the concrete around him would help with that, and all I have to make restraints of my own is this." I waved the bag.
"One moment," said Illyana, before vanishing in a flash of light.
"Uh… hi," said the brunette that Illyana had brought with her, shifting awkwardly as the person who had dragged her into this mess to begin with left without her. "I'm Kitty."
"Nice to meet you, Kitty," I said, stepping forwards to offer her my hand to shake. "I'm May, you already know Rachel, but this is Morgan, my daughter, Castform, and- Tommy, correct?" I turned to the pastel-haired Morlock at this, who looked rather uncomfortable being put on the spot like this.
"Yyyeah," she said after a moment, "that's me."
We were, thankfully, spared further awkwardness by Illyana returning with a set of manacles with inches-thick cuffs and a chain that looked like she'd stolen it off of a battleship's anchor.
"Ah, perfect," I said. "If you'd give me just a moment…" I waggled the Etching Pen.
"Of course," Illyana said, conjuring a flat surface about a foot in diameter and resting the manacles on it.
"Right, so, if I just…" I started sketching in runes, and after a moment, Morgan joined in with more conventional tools, her inscriptions just slightly slower and less precise than mine but not to the point where it would cause problems.
It took about three minutes for the two of us to finish up the runework to our satisfaction. This was at least partially due to the fact that every time a shockwave rumbled through the cavern, I flinched, and it was only the fact that the Etching Pen could erase the mistakes that could have ruined the arcane inscriptions and necessitated new base material in order to actually make the manacles in the first place.
By the time we'd finished, we'd shaved off what seemed like enough material to make another set of chains and manacles, and despite how much less impressive the set we had made was, the arcane energies imbuing every link and metal surface were more than enough for even his supernatural strength.
As Kitty dragged him down into the concrete underneath him, just barely starting to stir before the manacles flared and he went limp, the Forge flared again, this time leaving two flames behind after dying down to its normal intensity.
This time, the memories were of years in a forge, customers and individual projects running together against a backdrop of steel ringing against steel. Not too different from the knowledge of how metalsmithing was handled in Rigel, on the whole, but there were enough slightly altered techniques, different mindsets, and metallurgical secrets in this new information to be worth learning, even setting aside the flashes of relics of arcane power that I could, maybe, see a way to recreate, given time.
There wasn't time for that now, though, and I flicked the Etching Pen up and into the air before snatching it and returning it to… wherever it lived where it wasn't being used, presumably some workshop in the castle. "Come on," I said, picking up Geirskögul from where I'd leaned it against the wall of the tunnel. "That probably took too long already."
The room that the feral Marauder had been lurking in looked vaguely like a pantry, if that pantry had been picked up and shaken like a good set of maracas- there were beaten-up and burst cans of food all over the floor, the leaking liquids starting to leach into the various dried goods and torn-up cardboard boxes that had also been there, and the few fresh items had been dashed on the ruins of a torn-up table and had run together into unidentifiable sludge.
"Resource denial," said Morgan, with the grim air of someone who had seen this before and found it no less distasteful now than before. "Even if they didn't manage to find everyone, they'd be able to track them more easily when they were forced out of the tunnel complex to find food."
I frowned, trying to think about how much I could squeeze out of the larder in the castle between restockings. "We might be able to put them up, depending on how many Morlocks survive."
"Worry about logistics later," said Rachel. "We've got company up ahead, so-" here, she raised her voice- "-if you young men would come on through we should be able to get you to safety!"
For a moment, her voice echoed through the still room, sounding almost accusatory as it attenuated, but eventually a man sidled into the room.
He wasn't quite as tall as me, coming up to maybe my chin, and the top of his too-pale head probably would have reflected the light if he didn't look grimier than I did when coming off a double, and the purple coat he was wearing had probably been nice before time and hard living had gotten their teeth into it. At first glance the hue his eyes could be mistaken for jaundice, but upon a more thorough look, the eerie glow that they emitted, as well as the lack of irises and the whitish pupils, put paid to any chance he could have had at passing for normal even if his skin tone could be passed off.
"Caliban thinks…" he paused for a moment. "Caliban thinks that we can trust them, and that we must move quickly before the hunters catch up."
Two boys came into view, one having purplish skin and an enlarged head that seemed to have patches of missing skin and the other was green, wide-mouthed and noseless, and clutched his friend's arm close with three-fingered hands.
Morgan's breath hissed out. "Right, you three, quickly," she said, bringing the drawbridge into existence and covering most of the floor-covering food between us and them as the winch lowered it. "Into the castle, and we'll send through as many people as we can find. Stay out of the dungeons, though, we've got one of the Marauders captive there."
The tall man- Caliban, presumably- gave her a suspicious look, but he followed the boys in through the portcullis into one of the lounges.
Once she was sure they were in, the gate vanished as if it hadn't existed, and we continued on through the sewers to try and save as many people from the Marauders as we could.
And that's that!
Perks Earned:
Arcane Emulation (D&D Eberron, 400 CP): To enchant is to create the greatest of items. To enchant without magic is pure bullshit, but is doable with certain tricks shared only amongst the most secretive of crafters. Thanks either to learning from them or to discovering these abilities yourself, you can craft magical items without the need for related spellcasting. Further, you know all the little tricks to minimise the resource costs of your items, which whilst minimal by themselves add up to maybe halving the total time and resource expenditure per item.
Dedicated Craftwright (D&D Eberron, Free): For every scientist, there is an engineer. Someone willing to take the scientific (or, in this case, magical) principles discovered, and craft some amazing device to exploit it to their own uses.
Artificer (D&D Eberron, Free): An inspired craftsman specialising in arcane technology and wonderous creations, ranging the gamut from robot dogs to fully automatic crossbows. They provide the backbone of technology which Eberron runs on.
Craftsman Training (D&D Eberron, Free): A master has passed his work onto you through an apprenticeship, or else you have simply put the time in to learn how to make things for yourself. You have received intermediate training in every field of crafting, from metalworking to woodcrafting to pottery. This training increases in potency with each Artificer perk taken, due to the natural synergy involved.
Natural Crafter (D&D Eberron, Free): Either by innate talent or by dedicated training, you are naturally skilled at crafting, be it mundane or magical items. This typically manifests as an equivalent of intermediate skill in any given specialisation, but could also be producing the same items for cheaper or quicker. Each additional Artificer perk you take further enhances this.
Starting Gear (D&D Eberron, Free): Mundane gear specific to your class(es), such as a sword, shield and suit of armour for a Fighter, a bow and some light armour for a Ranger, a spell book, staff and robes for a Wizard, a spear and robes for a Sorcerer, or a holy symbol, mace and suit of armour for a Cleric. These items are all of average quality, and you are considered to be proficient with them.
Masterwork Tools (D&D Eberron, Free): Weapons for the more technically minded, these tools are of the best quality imaginable, and have been enchanted so that they will never break and, to make sure, will repair themselves over time if they are damaged somehow. There are even some magical replicas of more modern tools, like an elemental welding kit and a Dragonshard Dust Circuit Printer.
Smithing (Thundercats 2011, 200 CP): The ancient art of working with metal to forge weapons and armor. You know how to make beautiful equipment that can survive countless battles and you could even forge a legendary weapon if you dedicated enough time to it, although it'd probably take at least several years to complete.
Old Cloak (Thundercats 2011, Free): A dull looking piece of clothing that will perfectly conceal your features and help you go unnoticed in large crowds.
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