.^^ Construct and Temple ^^

— Dashiva Drundomidon —

The mission was to be a boring one, but a good first mission for an apprentice. Not too dangerous, but with an element of danger to whet the stone, and sharpen the blade of his mind, so he knew what battle felt like, and got used to it.

As War-Mages, we were constantly called upon to defend the Islands, from all sorts of threats. The humans exiled to the Deeps were always the nastiest sorts, but sometimes they had the knowledge necessary to escape, scavenging old downed craft for their own uses.

The goblins that populated the continent also displayed a command of technology, at times, and managed to build little gliders, mobile and swift little things that harried any aircraft that came too close to their territories.

I knew my nephew-turned-Apprentice could handle a few goblins in a scrap, but whether or not he would, that was the test. The mission was important, as banal as it was, so I would handle the research, while he guarded the exterior.

The ruins were very old, the oldest we'd ever learned about that held references to clockwork magic, a Dwarven and Human speciality. The Tinkertoy Mage who had sent us with orders from the Council had stressed the importance of the Construct outside the temple, as it was built by the same people who built the temple. It was originally the protector of the temple, given Sentience, but had been long dead, with no fuel source.

She believed that she could revive it, and learn the lost mechanical secrets of the Ancient Dwarves from it. While I didn't really care about her success, I also knew it was a good training mission, so I accepted, and we began the travel, in one of my personal Retrieval Flyers, built to retrieve large wreckage's from the bottom of the ocean, or from the forests of the Deep, without touching the ground, usually.

Yeshiva was still uncomfortable flying, like so many other things he was uncomfortable doing. Terribly whiny, sometimes, and spoiled, but a good boy, mostly. Kind, which was a good trait to have, and intelligent, along with being annoyingly inquisitive, at times.

"So what do we know of the temple? Why did it open, ten years ago? What opened it? Who opened it? Is the Construct really deactivated? How are we gonna lift it? Isn't it very big? Can our ship carry it all the way home?" He yammered as I meditated, (or tried to,) in the cargo hold, where the Construct would soon reside.

When we slowed down, I opened my eyes, and he immediately silenced himself. Another trait I hoped to see stomped out: he was a little bit of a coward, sometimes, especially with women. The reasons were obvious, with his mother being the High Council, and as stern as they come, as well as too busy to ever take care of him.

It had befallen me and my husband, since he was an infant, to take care of him, teach him, guide him, but he still viewed her as his Ideal, the Perfect Person, and strove to be like her, despite the glaring differences in their personalities. A nature and nurture issue, I supposed.

"We've arrived, Lady Drundomidon... the temple is nearby, as is the Construct. Would you like us to retrieve it immediately?" The Captain leaned against a bulkhead nearby.

"Not quite yet... we must investigate the Temple, first. We don't know if moving it will activate some sort of failsafe. I'd rather not find out the hard way." I smiled at him, and he grinned.

"As the Lady Wishes..." he winked, his professional demeanor slipping.

"Oh stop that, you idiot." I sighed and slapped my younger brother-in-law's ear gently.

He laughed and walked back up the stairs to the bridge, commanding the ship to lower into a dropping altitude, so we could disembark safely.

The ropes we set ourselves into dropped at a swift pace, designed more for speed than comfortability, and we reached the canopy within moments. Dropping into the canopy was the most dangerous part of this trip, because of the unknown dangers directly below, but I had a plan to remove such dangers.

A burst of superheated air blasted out of my hand, pointed downwards, and the canopy was ripped open, revealing branches sharpened to points, likely by the goblins who'd been hunting and trapping across this entire continent for a thousand years.

I carefully swung to a place with no barbs, and watched passively as Yeshiva did the same, masterfully. The ropes zipped back up towards the ship, and we started our way down the massive Redwood, easily 200 feet tall.

The ground was packed with reddish-brown leaves, and ripped by the massive roots that fed these trees, as they siphoned nutrients from each other, as the gargantuan carnivorous trees they were.

We made our way carefully through the forest, dark as night even in the middle of the morning, and followed the directions I'd laid out beforehand. Using them, we reached the 'clearing' (having only enough canopy to be barely visible from the sky,) with the Construct and Temple rather quickly, after only an hour of travel.

"Guard the entrance, Apprentice." I said calmly, and walked through the barrier, into the temple. There were no traps, or pitfalls, or anything else of that sort, which was odd, for a Dwarven Ruin.

The interior held little to nothing of import, only old relics that we already understood and could reproduce, but the Hall of Stories was another thing entirely.

Panel upon panel made of crystal of unknown origin, etched with the history of the Dwarven peoples, from their supposed (and oft contested,) origin, being created by the Dwarf God Ymir, to their End as a Higher Race, with their defeat by the Elven Hoards in the epic Battles of Florin.

This one was different than the norm, though, even more than the crystals, in that it continued after that final battle. According to this room's Story, After Elves took supremacy, the Dwarves moved themselves deep into the new, (or perhaps simply too old for our society to remember its sinking,) continent that appeared at around that time, which they had given the name 'Ulfavir', 'The All-Gift'.

It's soil was rich with minerals, and the deeper they dug, the more iron, copper, silver, platinum, etc. they found. The entire continent was a treasure trove of materials, unlike the Isles, which were nearly mined clean several centuries before, before more islands began appearing. They believed that the Continent was a Gift from Ymir, their god-king. A refuge from the Elves, where they could research and build in peace.

There were none of their normal weapons of war to be found, besides that which was necessary to fend off the new Goblin scourge, which these records said came from a nearby island, as it sank in the aftermath of the terrestrial event they called 'The Gifting'. I took notes swiftly, and moved to the next panel of glass.

This spoke of another calamity, the deaths of most of their people by a plague brought by the Goblins, the Iron-Skin. Those that were infected had two outcomes: death, as one of the Cursed, or Life, as one of the Gifted.

For the Cursed, their deaths were inglorious, terrible ends. Skin as hard as steel, and just as cold, that slowly drove them mad, and sent them into intense rages, which ended when their hearts gave out, or their heads came off.

For the Gifted, life became easier, as they tripled in strength and vitality, their skin becoming an impenetrable armor, their minds becoming like blades, quicker, sharper, more ingenious. Inspiration was their common state, and their multitude of works took over the rest of the panel. An age of research and development of things to make life better, easier...

Until it all simply halted.

The panel was cut in half, after that set of Runes, and the rest of the panes were missing, or perhaps had just never been made, given the near-end of their species. Dwarves still existed, but the ones that had been alive during that time were all old and senile, by now. Dwarves lived for ridiculous amounts of time, but their minds aged eventually, just like the Elves.

I finished my notes, and explored the rest of the temple carefully, taking notes on anything that seemed interesting. There wasn't much, besides the remains of the workshops, all seemingly picked clean, and removed, likely when the first expedition came through.

The interior was a squat cube, of only two floors, the lower of which being the Hall of Stories, and the top being several dozen workshops, as well as an oddly shaped depression in one wall.

I hummed, and stepped back, erecting a shield, or trying to do so. When nothing happened, I frowned, and simply stepped aside, touching the depression. Nothing happened, to my annoyance, so I shrugged, made a note of it, and decided to check on my Apprentice, and the Construct.

Exiting, I saw the smoldering ruins of three or four goblins, and one perfect pile of ash, which was intriguing. I wasn't sure that my Apprentice had that much control over fire.

"Apprentice?! Have you been eaten?! Oh Bother..." I sighed, looking around and restraining myself from becoming frantic, searching around for signs of his direction.

He poked his head out of the side of the Construct, where apparently there was a door built, and a rope ladder was down. "Master! I tried to contact you, but there's a warding in place, Ancient Dwarven Magic! Come on up!!!"

I hummed, and climbed the rope ladder, entering the space carefully. I spotted a gleaming musket of some kind, etched with ancient human Runes, the language that they had learned from the Dwarves. It shivered upon contact with my finger, surprising me, but I turned away to examine the space, and found a small human male, with white hair and silver spectacles on his pale nose.

His attire was cobbled together very well, a mixture of furs and leathers that were intermixed just enough to give the impression of having come from one animal, who, if it existed, I didn't recognize its origin. "Oh!... a local. Hello." I hummed.

"I am Rune, and this is my workshop! I'm under the impression you'd be interested in trading something for my Notes, and some sketches of the artifacts that I pulled out of that Temple?" He grinned casually, gesturing at the walls, covered in different wares; weapons, for the most part.

I sighed internally, and prepared myself to barter.

—

"-Alright, well, we were planning on lifting it out, carefully, so is there a position you prefer it to be carried? This room seems designed for the way it was sitting." I looked around, concerned about destroying the interior needlessly.

"This room is inside a gyroscope, so it doesn't matter, so long as it turns at a respectable pace. I still haven't managed to get it to turn smoother than it is currently, but I'll figure it out eventually." He grinned at the look of confusion on my face, and tapped the wall. "Construct, Stand."

I flinched as the room rocked gently, as the Construct shook itself. A deep, echoing rhythmic sound emanated from the walls, and the boy seemed to take it for a question.

"We are leaving, yes. Is there an airship around? With chains and such?" The boy, 'Rune', asked, sitting in a desk chair, after readying his workshop for movement.

More of that mechanical creaking language, and the boy paused, then grinned savagely. He turned to us, and spoke quickly. "Your allies are under attack from goblin gliders. Give me a few moments to destroy them and collect the wreckage's, and we'll be off!" He grabbed his rifle again, as we rushed to the door, looking up.

Two small goblin fliers were circling our ship, tossing javelins onto the top deck, and catching the ropes, trying to pull her out of the sky. "Make you a deal, shoot down the gliders, and I'll give you the ship when we make it back to the Islands!" I snapped, making the decision swiftly. That ship had no weapons, and no Mages.

"Ooh, I like it. Deal." He grinned, and slid the barrel of his rifle into a keyhole of some kind, facing the chest. As he did this, the Construct turned itself, and knelt on one knee, grabbing nearby trees, as if bracing itself. "Now excuse me, while I light up the sky..." he said in elvish, then smirked, pulling the trigger.

Before I could comment, an echoing, ethereal pulse of raw magic exited the front of the construct's chest, and slammed one of the craft, turning it into pure water, and spraying it into the sky as a fine mist.

I gasped, as the Construct skidded Back a few feet from the kick-back, telling all I needed to know, about the power involved. The boy flew back, slamming into the far wall, his chest smoking, and I flinched, picking him up, just as the blast fired again, and the second flier, which had been running, turned to stone, and fell from the sky.

Yeshiva rushed to pull the rifle from the keyhole, in case the Construct tried to take out the third ship, ours, and it slid out easily, the barrel smoking and white-hot. He set it on the stone worktable, and sprinted over to us.

"Is he okay?" He asked breathlessly.

"Wha-? 'M Fine!" He grumbled, standing up and cracking his back loudly, patting out the fires on his clothes. "More kick than I thought... make a note, Construct... less power next time..."

The groaning and clanking became more agitated, and he waved a hand carelessly. "It's fine, I'm not hurt! Jeez... anyway, we're going with them, so allow them to grapple you. Maybe get into a good position for them to carry you?"

The outside shifted again, as the Construct stood, and placed his arms against his sides, then looked up at the craft, as if giving it permission.

I hummed. "How sentient is he?"

The boy looked at me. "Sentient? Not really that much... he's a collection of memories, and knowledge, with complex artificially intelligent computational matrices-" he paused, seeing my black look. "He's like a Golem. He's got memories, but his mind was made for him. He's a copy of someone else, who was once alive." He explained in simpler terms.

I nodded. "A dwarf?"

"Yeah, one of the Gifted. Instead of destroying himself, like the others, he just decided to preserve himself forever. And he managed, in a weird way." He shrugged, and ushered us out, throwing the rope ladder in, then closing and locking the door behind us.

It was just then that I noticed the Runes on the outside of the Construct, which matched the ones around the warding, which I hadn't figured out yet. I couldn't have cast magic in that room if I wanted, I realized, and shivered. I'd been ready to fight him, and I would've lost.

He noticed, and grinned, winking at me conspiratorially, before sitting on the Construct's shoulder.

"Hey, I thought you said you never translated the Dwarven Runes?" Yeshiva asked suspiciously.

"I lied. I didn't know you, and I didn't trust you. I never lay all my cards out, if I might need them to defend myself. Like your master just realized, when she saw that she couldn't have fought me in that room." He said calmly, and without regret.

I blinked. "Wait, What about the Bow?" I held it up.

"The warding blocks all magic other than Dwarven Magic. The bow uses Dwarven Magic, not Elven or Gnomish magic." He shrugged.

I raised an eyebrow. "Gnomes?"

"Hmm? Yeah, they have their own stuff. Enchanting items, and such. One of them taught me the Gloves of Tuning Enchantment." He nodded, wiping some soot off his glasses and face.

I handed him my water flask, pointing at his soot-blackened hair.

He grinned and nodded a Thanks, pouring some onto his hair casually, then handed it back, as his hand glowed, and touched the water. The dirt lifted off his body, and suddenly he was as pristine as when I'd first seen him.

"A little trick I learned a few years ago from an Ursine- a water spirit." He explained, looking at Yeshiva's confused expression.

"Whoa... spirit magic?" Yeshiva poked at his hair, which was still wet, but clean.

His hand was swatted away, and the boy frowned. "No touching." He said sternly, and then looked up at the ropes slowly lowering.

We got to work, lacing them around the legs, and working our way up to the shoulders, where we ran out of rope, and the ship began pulling.

The boy appeared a bit uneasy, leaving the forest temple, but then grinned, looking out over the canopy. "So that's what the ocean looks like from the sky... nice."

I followed his gaze, and smiled at the sight of the coast, nearly 60 Miles away. His eyes were just as good as an elf's with those glasses, it would seem. "Yes. The islands are even better." I nodded.

He snorted. "Maybe. I prefer nature, over stone and glass; even given my... particular talents."

I paused. "Have you seen the Islands before?"

"No, but the half-elf was from there. Cast out because she was born of an Elven mother, and a human father. She taught me some Astronomy, as well as the Elvish tongue." He frowned.

I shook my head. "No one gets exiled for being born, child. That could have been the root of her problems, yes, and driven her to break the law in some way, but believe me, birth does not an Exile Warrant."

"Yeah? Tell that to the Gnomes." He said dryly, and looked away, back at the ocean.

I didn't respond, having nothing to respond to that with, and was silent, until we were gently pulled into the cargo hold, which was barely big enough.

We dismounted, and the Captain approached, whistling softly. "You found a beaut, eh? When can we start poking around inside him?!"

"Never." Rune sat on top of the Head, and grinned down at us all, his rifle across his back, and a smaller weapon on either hip. "But I thank you for the Lift." He said casually, ignoring the bows immediately pointed at him.