The construct's yellow eyes flickered brighter. Its brass jaw creaked open, gears clicking softly as the stolen voices merged into a single, coherent response.
"You’ve given me more than words, gnome. You’ve given me… a path forward. You stay, Orryn. They leave."
It gestured toward Zyra and Legolas, voice steady, lacking malice but firm as hammered steel.
"You, apprentice. Helper. There is work here. Old work… forgotten… broken. I can teach you. We can fix it. Speak freely. Understand. But only if it’s quiet. If it's mine. Only if they go."
Clicker
The construct’s yellow eyes narrowed slightly, the faint hum of hidden gears beneath its plating pulsing in time with its words.
Zyra, disbelieving the constructs transformation, watches Legolas turn to go... turns to the construct and says:
Master Hornrock, I can understand your desire to recruit an apprentice to help you lift what has befallen you. But legally, you are not master here anymore. You owe a debt to the other master before taking on a new apprentice. After what you did to the other adventurer, I am not comfortable leaving Orryn here alone with you, and I am no smith. How long before you loose yourself again if we all leave?
OOC:
Player discussions:Perhaps we can send Legolas to get Grusk to parlay with the old smith. Maybe not. But anyone left alone is just as likely to end up exsanguinated as they are to find a cure or a solution. Also, there is the chance that if Orryn were to apprentice to Hornrock, you might just fall into the same mad obsession in cheating death as he did... Well that's What I'm thinking.
Orryn bit at his lip. Wishing he had a pipe to draw on, or a mug of something dark and bitter. He had an idea, but much depended on the agreement of several parties he would need convince. A narrow path to tread, impossibly so if the Clicker did indeed end the lad that came before.
"Not the news anyone wants to hear, but it is true. This place has been considered abandoned for a long time. The city leveraged it's sale to settle debts. We are, helpful to ye or not, hired by the current owner to ensure it safe enough to open."
He held up a placating hand.
"Now, it is possible, depending how we go forward, to form an arrangement. No doubt ye know the state of this place. It needs repairs, an' materials are not without cost. If ye would prefer. Our work could be kept secret. I have lined up apprenticeship here with the current owner. If ye allow the place to produce wares and profit. Over time, I can gather what we need to progress."
He gestured to Zyra.
"The concern is also valid. Losin' yer words we can remedy in the short term, but if there is an uncontrollable side. We would need ensure our efforts do not end in bloodshed and wordless silence once more."
OOC:
Definitely a hard gap to bridge. I've outlined an idea I had of compromise. But even if agreed we'd need to hear assurances and have all parties agree to terms. I don't think Orryn wishes to live eternally. Just learn from masters to build his knowledge/skill base. If he can profit and help folks in the process, that's icing. Valid concerns though. More information needed on these things.
The construct’s yellow eyes glinted for a moment, like molten glass catching the flicker of Orryn’s torchlight. It stood straighter now, the delicate clockwork mechanisms along its frame clicking faintly in rhythm with its words. As Legolas was about to leave, one foot already crossing the threshold of the hidden chamber, the construct's voice rang out:
"I am Master Hornrock… Or what remains of him. I forged this place with hammer and rune long before your city scribes sold stones they did not earn."
The construct’s gaze drifted to Zyra, voice level but edged with an old, stubborn pride.
"The last one… he was not like you. He came silently, but his greed spoke louder. He took my things. He threw a knife. He tried to strike me with a hammer. Defense was… necessary. I subdued him and, sadly, killed him. I tried to save him. Fragments of his soul cling to me. Maybe he is inside me… maybe lost. I do not know. This place is broken. We are broken."
The construct paused. If it was sad, it was impossible to tell.
"But the underground is mine. This forge, the crucible, the vaults below. All of it belongs to me. Forever. And I will not trade it like trinkets in the market."
The construct’s gaze fixed on Orryn.
"But the surface? The sunlit stone and timber above? Let them keep it. Generations of my kin built below, while elves, men, even orcs built above. That is the way of stone and soil. I can live with that. We did before. We can again. But down here—this is not theirs to sell."
Orryn pushed his hat back to scratch at his scalp.
"Shame it had to come to that. I'll not chastise ye further. Were I in yer circumstance, it might have gone down just the same. Besides, ye didn't attack the lot of us since we've come here, an' that lends to yer wish to keep things peaceable."
He looked to Zyra, correcting his hat.
"Well? If there's a deal to make, think we should all go an' meet with Grusk? Or did ye have other concerns to address?"
His gazed drifted to the empty space where Legolas once stood, now vacant.
"Er, where did the elf go off to? Legolas? Ye still around?"
That's moment when Legolas returns. Master Hornrock I am sorry for what I have to tell yoi but that's the truth. Hornrock the dwarf is dead. Your soul is imprisoned in this metal thing. in the name of all saints you must resist and find way to reunite with your ancestors accepting your fate.
Legolas was certainly taking risk of clicker to kill him for the words he say. Let me explain why I decided he would do that
Since this is forgotten realms I assumed he would have knowledge about Lich - creatures who were humans once but having too strong willingness to embrace undeath for a chance to live forever—or rather, to endure forever...
What happened to Master Hornrock is in no way better. Hosting a construct rather than humanoid body is no different to a druid. Legolas have to try to set this soul free even if he die trying
When Legolas left
The construct’s yellow eyes flared softly as Legolas left, its gaze following the elf for a moment before shifting back to Orryn and Zyra. Its brass joints clicked faintly, but its voice remained steady—patched together with Orryn’s speech and the edges of Zyra’s tone—but absent entirely of Legolas's smoother cadence.
"I cannot use his words. He left my sight." The construct gestured faintly toward the doorway with a segmented brass hand. "That is the curse. My voice—borrowed, stitched from the words of those I see. Lose sight, lose the words."
It tapped its temple, the sound ringing metallic and hollow. "The spell… it was meant to protect me. To return what was given—to reflect spells, wounds, attacks." It shook its head, the movement precise, mechanical. "But it twisted… it reflected sounds as well. Now, I give back only words that I hear… and only while I'm with them."
The storage room Legolas, a sharp, acrid scent floods your nostrils as the door opens, dry and chemical, tinged with rust and something sulfurous. The room ahead is long and low-ceilinged, with shelves carved directly into the stone walls and iron crates stacked in uneven rows.
Cracked jars and shattered vials litter the floor, glinting in your torchlight. Faint labels in Dwarvish script remain on several containers—some legible, others scorched. On the northern wall, a large cabinet hangs slightly ajar, its interior marked with chemical stains and intricate sigils of containment.
Near the door, you also see a pile of gear. A backpack, a metal armor, a long sword and a large pouch full of coins. By the looks of it, it's the previous adventurer's gear.
Orryn says:
"Er, where did the elf go off to? Legolas? Ye still around?"
Master Hornrock I am sorry for what I have to tell yoi but that's the truth. Hornrock the dwarf is dead. Your soul is imprisoned in this metal thing. in the name of all saints you must resist and find way to reunite with your ancestors accepting your fate.
"You are wrong, Elf." The next words rolled together, now a patchwork of Orryn’s grit and Legolas’s own careful precision. "Hornrock is not dead. Hornrock endures. You see metal and gears… I see survival. You speak of saints. Ancestors. Reuniting in death." It shook its head, the yellow glow pulsing faintly. "I do not accept that fate."
It turned slightly, yellow eyes fixing on Zyra, then Orryn, finally resting on Legolas once more.
"Bring your employer. Grusk." It spoke the name with careful weight, as though testing the syllables. "I will convince him. The surface? His. The stone above? His. But the underground… this forge, these halls—mine. Dwarves have shared stone with elves, men, orcs for generations. Your employer and I will speak. Let him stand here with me and Orryn, the Wordgiver. Let him look me in the eyes—see that Hornrock endures. "
OOC:
What do you do? What are the other PCs goals?
Social Conflict
Legolas gives up on this conversation and doesn't care either way
Hornrock gives up on his immortal body
Grusk gives up on the underground area
??? Other goals
Master Hornrock, I am willing to get Grusk or at least I agree he can be brought here and the two of you can parlé. Can you answer a few questions for me? Zyra pauses but not quite long enough to allow Hornrock to respond, she forges on with her questions:
What happens to you if Orryn chooses not to stay with you? What will you do if you can lift the curse? If we can help you convince Grusk, will you offer us something in return? Would it be useful for me to come speak with you for a few hours a few times a week to help you keep you mind and language until you can lift the curse? I could also act as a go between you and any kin you have near Waterdeep?
OOC:
Zyra sees both Hornrock and Grusk as extremely powerful allies. Her goal is to find a compromise that will allow both parties to thrive and be beholding to her down the road for her role in finding a peace/alliance/accord. Zyra is playing the long game. One does not become a Masked lord overnight and one definately has no chance to become one without powerful allies.
She turns to Legolas, Legolas, I respect your beliefs, but I am not prepared to be Judge and Jury on matters of faith. I would never presume to impose my beliefs on another.
It's not about faith it's about ... Elf shakes his head and change topic I will meet Grusk and see if he is willing to negotiate with this. You can keep arguing with the un-dead murder.
Legolas turns around and leaves. Wait - at the doors he stops and not looking back say Zyra, I believe I've helped you with what you asked me to help. Thanks for involving me. Hope to see you again
This time Legolas leaves the building and is going to find Grusk.
OOC:
Based on what I read Legolas don't have support from neither of other PCs so let's go with Legolas gives up on this conversation and doesn't care either way
Thank you Legolas, I do hope we meet again... fare thee well, wherever you may fare.
Zyra, hangs her head at the loss of a companion, disappointed in the outcome. She inwardly feels she may have burned a bridge with the Emerald Enclave. That will be a problem for another time. She turns her attention back to Orryn and the construct waiting for some answers.
"We ought to go along. If Grusk is upstairs, there's little reason to remain here in the dark. Besides."
He gestured to the doorway where Legolas had departed as soon as he'd arrived.
"Better we speak on behalf of what we have experienced, rather than lettin' one that tosses words like murder about be the representative to our intention."
He turned to Zyra, a frown creasing his face.
"Not that I'm denying a death has occurred, or that I don't wish to aid what remains of the poor lad. But if the events Hornrock laid out are the whole truth, then he is no more a murderer than any of us had we needed to act against an attack."
He looked over at the Clicker, brow raised.
"So long as I'm in sight, ye have words, right? Want to come with?"
What happens to you if Orryn chooses not to stay with you? What will you do if you can lift the curse? If we can help you convince Grusk, will you offer us something in return? Would it be useful for me to come speak with you for a few hours a few times a week to help you keep you mind and language until you can lift the curse? I could also act as a go between you and any kin you have near Waterdeep?
"If Orryn chooses not to stay, I’ll speak with whatever words others bring me—visitors, workers, merchants—it’s not ideal, but I’ve endured worse."
His gaze drifted briefly across the chamber, landing on the old tools, the forge, the forgotten alcoves.
"I have no kin left, not that I know of… decades pass, ties break, names fade." His hand brushed faintly over the iron pedestal beside him. "As for the curse… I don’t know if I can lift it without losing everything that’s kept me alive. The protections, the resilience—the immortality of brass and rune. As for helping with Grusk—payment depends on your skill."
His voice turned blunt, practical.
"Payment’s on the table, but within reason. I’ll reward results, not promises. Coin, knowledge, relics—things I can part with, things earned. You make it worth my while, I’ll do the same."Legolas, frustrated and unwilling to argue further, left the underground forge, parting with a cool farewell and heading upstairs to find Grusk. Zyra watched him go, disappointment and regret tightening in her chest, worried she may have strained ties with the Emerald Enclave.
Orryn, practical as ever, suggested they follow, reasoning it better they explain the situation directly to Grusk as well. He reminded Zyra that while death had occurred, if Hornrock's version of events held true, the construct acted in defense, not malice.
Orryn turned to the brass figure.
Orryn says:
"So long as I'm in sight, ye have words, right? Want to come with?"
The construct's yellow eyes pulsed faintly as it answered, its voice cobbled together from snippets of theirs:
"Yes, I've got your words, if I am seeing you. If you go… words go. But if you return… words return. For now, I stay… In my forge, my walls… When you return with Grusk, I speak."
OOC:
What do you do?
Social Conflict Player's choice: Legolas gives up on this conversation and doesn't care either way Hornrock gives up on his immortal body
Grusk gives up the underground area and Zyra is paid for her help by Hornrock
??? Other goals
Legolas Legolas quietly ascended the stone stairs, the sound of his soft, careful footsteps vanishing from the party. As he crested the stairwell back into the blacksmith building, the warmth of the room met him—along with the unmistakable scent of roasted meat and fresh bread.
Grusk sat near the anvil, crouched on an overturned crate with a half-eaten slab of salted pork in one hand, the other resting uneasily on the haft of his battleaxe. His armor was strapped on tight, chainmail coiled around his broad frame like a shell of tempered steel. His eyes, sharp and bloodshot, darted toward Legolas the moment he appeared.
The half-orc's jaw clenched as he chewed, shoulders tense, one boot braced as if ready to spring to his feet at the first wrong word. His gaze flicked toward the stairs behind Legolas, as if expecting trouble to follow. The veneer of calm was thin—Grusk was jumpy, wired, ready for a fight that hadn’t yet arrived.
"You're back," Grusk muttered, licking grease from his fingers, though he didn’t loosen his grip on the axe. "What did you find down there… and should I be worried?"
Worried? You decide.
Legolas is stressed, even more than he was when facing deadly traps. He talks a lot and quick. He begins with facts:
Hornrock's body is obviously destroyed
His soul is hosted by a construct, effectively turning him an immortal being
Hornrock killed the previous explorer and took all his belongings including money Grusk paid.
Legolas forgot to mention Hornrock insists he still holds ownership of the stuff, because it is not what bothers him, what bothers him in the immortality.
I promise this information will stay with Emeracl Enclave, but I don't believe you will be able to prevent rumors about key to immortality to exist down there. And believe me - there are humans who will do everything to acquire tht immortality and I mean everything. Should you be worried about having a tasty lunch just above the immortality forge? You decide.
We didn't make this place safer for you. In a way we made it more dangerous. I'm so sorry...
Anyhow, Zyra and Orryn are waiting for you down there. It is safe to go there for now. Hornrock will not kill you unless you try to assume ownership of anything that is down there.
Legolas is happy he never accepted any advance payment for the job simply leaves the building and returns to Melannor to share the dreadful news and seek recreation.
Orryn appeared at the top of the stairs, shielding his eyes as he continued into the well lite room. His stomach grumbled at the scents of lunch meats that lingered in the air, guiding him to the source, and man he was looking for.
"Gods, how long was I down there? I'm practically ravenous!"
As his eyes adjusted, he noted the smithmaster's change in attire, and lack of ease.
"Aww, I'm touched! Ready to go to war then? All that won't be necessary. At least, not to save our hides. The Clicker is not as violent as was assumed. In fact, there's quite a bit to discuss. Did Legolas pass through here? He said he was going to fetch ye, but I figured it best we discuss things up here."
Zyra follows Orryn up the stairs to meet with Grusk. Notices the change in attire and demeanor. Looks like Grusk wants to fight for what's his. Content to allow Orryn to take the lead in the delivery of what we have found so far.
