The Alchemist's Lair: Part 11

At first, I assumed they were simply running to their deaths, with no plan but to go out fighting. Then I noticed they were carrying a heavy net between them. Moving as fast as possible, they engulfed the colossus in the net. One of the bandits, trying to get behind his opponent posthaste, failed to notice or was unable to react to the giant saw swinging at him, and was cut cleanly in half.

The survivor reacted quickly, dragging the net with all his might, in order to limit his enemy’s movements as much as possible. This was going to be a losing battle, obviously, but the two didn’t come charging at the automaton alone or without a plan.

As the bandit was holding the machine back, after a few seconds, lightning bolts flickered through the corridor and electrocuted the behemoth. Apparently, the scoundrels had a wizard amidst their ranks. This attack seemed not to affect the man holding the net, which I found curious at the time. Later, I would learn this was a fairly common tactic for big game hunting, and that either the net itself or the net bearer’s clothes would be designed to protect him against electricity.

Unfortunately, it seemed to have a weaker effect on the larger machine than on its lesser brethren. Its singular red eye flickered briefly, but it was able to survive under attack – for some time at least. Slowly but surely, it raised its cannon. Several seconds before it could fire, the wizard ceased his attack. He was obviously unsure of his ability to finish the creature off before it obliterated him, and switched to defensive spells. The upper half of the deceased net bearer was telekinetically dragged across the floor towards the corridor, then lifted into the air just in time to be blown to smithereens by the enemy.

This brief period, during which the air was filled with smoke and bloody mist, was used by one of the bandits to charge into melee. He was different from the rest, clad head to toe in white ceramic plate armor. This type of armor was, at some point, fairly popular, as it provided excellent protection against most attacks. Its weakness, however, was that it was both expensive to craft and impossible to repair, which made consistent usage a costly endeavor even for the wealthy nobles. More importantly, once cracks started to show, it wasn’t unheard of for the entire thing to shatter after a few more blows, usually getting their owners killed in the process. Where the bandits got their hands on this one, I have no idea, but it was in pristine condition, obviously kept in reserve until a sufficiently serious threat presented itself to warrant risking such a precious resource.

Aside from the white ornamented suit, he was carrying a matching shield and a battleaxe. As he burst into the room, the automaton managed to break free, knocking the net-bearer off his feet and swinging its right arm. The spinning saw blade clashed with the shield, emitting a shower of sparks, and the bandit was pushed to his right. He deftly used this momentum to get in a good position to swing and hacked at the cannon arm’s elbow. It was a fierce yet precise blow, and while the appendage was not fully severed, it was left hanging by a thread, and the weapon was rendered useless.

Its main ranged weapon disabled, the machine attempted to aim at its adversary with its backup, the shoulder-mounted gun. The bandit noticed it and bashed at the weapon with his shield. Hit point blank with several energy bolts, the shield shattered into pieces, but the bash was not without effect – the gun’s barrel was bent from impact. As the automaton tried to fire another burst, the weapon malfunctioned and exploded.

The machine tried another attack with its saw, but the explosion at its shoulder delayed the attack just enough for the bandit to dodge it and attack its head directly. He swung with both hands, and the force of the blow, combined with the fact that its structure was likely weakened by the gun’s detonation, managed to decapitate the colossus. The armored figure relaxed briefly, assuming the fight was over. It wasn’t; the heavily damaged automaton swung its cannon like a flail and hit its unassuming adversary. This was enough to finally detach the arm, and both it and the bandit were knocked to the ground. The machine turned towards him menacingly, but since both its ranged weapons were taken out, four more bandits and the mage rushed into the room, now safe from being mowed down. They grabbed onto the net, and this time they had enough collective strength to completely immobilize their foe. Their armored leader got up, took a handgun from the belt of his ally, who met an unfortunate death at the beginning of the engagement, approached the struggling behemoth, found an opening in its armor where its head used to be, jammed the gun into it, and emptied the magazine. This must’ve hit something vital, as the machine slowed down and, within seconds, powered down.

Breathing heavily, the bandit leader lifted the visor of his helmet, which resembled a toad’s face. He took a look around the room and, despite our best efforts to conceal our presence, he became aware of us. Did one of us make a noise? Or were our shadows somehow visible? I am not sure. Nevertheless, a familiar voice called us out.

“I am hurt you spat on my hospitality so”, Goyko was as theatrical as when we were brought before him initially. “Your little escapade cost me way too many men. I would find great joy in slaughtering you here and now, but I will need funding more than ever after this mess is sorted out, and I would hate to hurt you after we shared bread and salt. If you surrender right now, I will be so generous as to pretend nothing happened and return you to your accommodation”.

As he was talking, his men were spreading out, covering both exits and cutting our escape. A decision had to be made – fight or surrender once again. Our present situation was less dire than in the canyon and, considering how furious Goyko was, I wouldn’t be surprised if he intended to return at least some of us to the cell without all limbs attached. On the other hand, our enemies outnumbered us, and we lacked any armor. Any victory was going to be hard-fought.

Rhombus, feeling this wasn’t a time to debate, and fueled as always by his impulsive nature, took charge and made a decision for us all.

“You are one lousy host”, he laughed, “and have neither knowledge nor ability to take care of noble guests such as myself. There were times and places where this kind of treatment would incur the death penalty. Manea is, admittedly, fairly lax when it comes to such breaches of protocol, but you do not seem to abide by Manean laws, so I see no harm in returning to an older tradition myself”.

“So be it”, retorted Goyko, without a hint of humor this time.

The fight was on.