Act 2. Wards of Flame and Steel

Act 2: Wards of Flame and SteelThe silence that followed the explosion was dense. Then came the coughing. Choked, ragged gasps for air cut through the haze of settling dust and lingering smoke.

Zyra stirred first. Her skin was dusted with ash, and her arms bore fresh scrapes and light burns—but nothing deep. Her ears rang. Her first thought wasn’t pain, but people—she scrambled up to a crouch, eyes darting to find the others.

Next came Orryn, groaning as he pushed a broken beaker off his chest. His cap was singed and crooked, and his cheeks were smeared with black soot.

Legolas rolled to his side, rising with fluid, practiced grace despite the deep bruise blooming across one shoulder. His once-bright cloak was streaked with ash and alchemical residue, and one arm was burned lightly along the forearm. He didn’t speak—his eyes scanned the room for danger. He reached behind him, ensuring his bow was still intact. It was.

Grusk groaned from where he had been thrown back against a half-collapsed pipe. His tunic was blackened, and he was blinking rapidly like someone just punched by a door. "I hate magic bags," he grunted, brushing soot from his arms.

What was that! Is everyone ok?

Orryn choked on the settling dust, trying in vain to rub away the soot with his sleeve, muddying blood across his darkened face.

"An explosion, an' unless the afterlife is dirty and painful. One we survived. Everyone got their limbs? I feel like a horse kicked me."

His ears were ringing, and he very much doubted the wetness in his coat was from a spilled beaker. He needed to assess their situation, and this damn cloud needed to settle.

"Too much to hope we solved the clickin' problem with that stunt?"

He looked around the room, both to find an exit, and figure out what damage the explosion had visited upon the area they were in.

The alchemical worktables were scorched black and warped, their contents utterly consumed by the blast—glass fused into the surface like frozen lightning, copper tubing twisted and melted into grotesque shapes. Scorch marks crawled up the walls like claws. Whatever hadn’t already burned had spilled into smoking heaps of useless sludge.

Orryn turned slowly, eyes tracing the familiar outline of the heavy eastern door—still standing. It had been spared most of the blast. Behind him, he caught sight of the rusted cabinet—some of its contents were now nothing more than slag and char, but the satchel's remains smoldered beside it. He grimaced.

The door leading back to the previous room stood at a slight angle in its frame, scorched but intact.

Then the rubble caught his attention again—part of the collapse had shifted, revealing more of the stone wall behind it.

Legolas, ever alert, stepped carefully over a broken beam. His gaze narrowed. Between the crumbled stones and shattered piping, there—just barely visible in the soot-blackened wall—was the outline of a narrow seam. A secret door, hidden behind what had once been dismissed as structural collapse.

Above them, more pipes groaned under the strain. The explosion had warped several—one dripped a faint iridescent residue; others hissed faintly with escaping gas.

The clicking had stopped—for now.

Orryn makes his way over to Legolas, wincing as he pats the elf for his well spotted find.

"Earnin' yer keep right there! Now we just gotta spot the way in."

He looks about the rubble, moving anything away that wouldn't collapse on top of him.

"See any secret button with that great vision? Hey Zyra, ye sorted the traps above, right? Think ye can find whatever mechanism opens this?"

Buttons? Don't see any. Do you?

Elf comes closer to the doors and ignates his torch blown off by boom.
As he moves the torch around he stops and moves an inch back. Now you can also see flame jumping as if slight air movemen . Legolas takes a silver coin and slides into a tiny gap in the doors and with some efforts and for his great surprise manages to eject a door handle pulling that opens the doors

Look like Legolas beat me to it Orryn. Good work. I found the mechanism for this door as well. Although I have yet to figure out how it works. Let's keep going down the secret path and we can circle back to this door and the other large doors from the adjacent doors after.

Zyra moves to join the other and waves a farewell to Grusk saying: We'll let you know when we have the forge safe.

Orryn nodded with a grin.

"It's impressive to be sure! To take a major knock like that, and still spot something so well hidden! Gotta wonder what was going on down here to be so layered with traps and hidden doors. Only one way to find out, yeah? Let's press on!"

He followed the others as they made their way through the doorway, keeping close as he could to the illumination of the elf's torch.

The hidden door swung open, revealing a chamber far colder than the scorched room behind them. The room was a perfect cube, no more than ten feet across, yet every inch of it was claimed by intricate carvings: runes upon runes, binding circles layered over magical glyphs of sealing and warding.

At the center, a raised stone platform no taller than a barrel. Resting atop it was a small chest—metal-banded and marked with more glowing etchings, its lid magically clean and untouched by dust or time. Hovering just inches above the chest, spinning slowly on its axis, was a crystalline shard. It glowed with a pale azure light, casting reflections like broken stars across the ceiling.

Anyone one familiar with magic warding?

"My specialization is more mechanical than magical, but maybe I can make some sense of it anyway."

Orryn scanned the room, trying to piece together the purpose of the various runes that lined the room's every surface, especially the ones upon the chest.

Orryn you have no idea what the runes are. They are definitely not schematics or blueprints. They don't show gears, flow paths, or locking mechanisms.

Zyra, that crystal’s holding something in—or out. Probably both. No mechanical traps, no physical locks that you can see. This is arcane. Definitely arcane.

I guess Grusk wouldn't be interested in this. Neither am I.
Legolas leaves the magical room and backs to safety before gnome blows up something again.

As Legolas steps out of the small room, Zyra turns to Orryn: The crystal floating above the chest is the key, I just don't know if the chest is keeping something locked up or protecting something inside. how about we loc this room up, continue exploring the rest of the forge. We find some clues as to what's in the chest or what the room is for somewhere else.

Zyra hesitates a little before continuing: On the one hand, there is nothing inherently dangerous about leaving this room as is and mapping it for Grusk would be technically a fulfillment of the contract... On the other hand, I would like to know what's inside.

Orryn picked at his soot caked beard, features tight as he considered the various arcane symbols scattered throughout the chamber. A few moments after Legolas departed. Orryn threw up his hands, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Bah! These damn magics are beyond me! I'm a smith and tinkerer, not some long studied wizard!"

He rubbed hard at his eyes, smearing the collective grim like runny eyeshadow.

"Sorry, the explosion seems to have rattled my patience. I won't deny I'm curious as well, but these symbols could end us faster than we could consider the meaning of regret. We need more information. Something to clue us in to what was going on. If we don't find it here. Grusk told me of someone that might know more about Barundal Hornrock. Could be useful to look into. For now, we can check the other rooms."

He pulled his tattered pack off, retrieving a torch which he ignites with a few grunting strikes. He slings the pack on again and nods towards the doorway.

"I'll hold the light, you spot the traps. Sound good?"

Looking back with longing, Zyra leads the way to the other iron door in the Alchemy Lab. She opens the small hatch, she had found earlier, for the release mechanism. Orryn, here is the mechanism to open this door. I can break it to open it, but I think Grusk will appreciate it, if we can minimize the damage. I didn't see any signs of traps so it should be safe for you to tinker open.

Zyra looks over to their elf companion: Legolas, are you ok if we finish exploring the exits in this room before we move on to the two unexplored doors in the forge?

Sure. Exploring every area is part of the job I believe. Picking and poking magic...
Legolas shrugs. He don't have a strong opinion, just caution

Orryn brushes past Zyra upon request. Leaning close with torch in hand to suss out how the mechanism functioned, and whether he could open it without further damage to the area.

Orryn, you are able to open the door without damaging the mechanism.

---

A wave of heat washes over you as the door opens. The next chamber is compact and circular, no more than thirty feet across, with smooth stone walls reinforced by dark steel ribs. A dim red glow pulses from narrow channels carved into the basalt floor—vein-like grooves that snake inward toward a central pit.

Suspended over that pit by three heavy iron arms is a crucible of what looks like blackened adamantine, no larger than a barrel but very, very heavy. Its surface is scorched and pitted, etched with runes that flicker faintly red, in time with the pulsing floor.The walls are marked with advanced forge-control mechanisms: levers, dials inlaid with dull gemstones, and pressure valves sealed shut.

One small hatch, roughly 2ft by 2ft, lies open in the nearby wall, revealing a crawlspace filled with tubes and calcified heatstone going through the walls, over the ceiling and under the floor.

There are no further doors here. At least, none that you can see from where you are.

Is it the heart of this place? Elf looked astonished. He would suggest to remove it as the last resort only, but it may be the only possibility to turn "clicking spirit" off.

Orryn, you know that heatstones are alchemically treated stones of volcanic glass. When crafted, they provide enough heat to keep chambers warm in the coldest winter. One heatstone keeps a 20-foot-square area comfortably warm even in extreme cold (below –20° F), or a 40-foot-square area in severe cold (between 0° F and –20° F). They can also be used as crafting materials for magic items.

A single heatstone is activated when struck against any hard surface. After this time, it continues to provide heat for anywhere from 24 hours to three years before losing its heat and then calcifying. An active stone does not emit enough heat to cook food or cause harm.

Orryn made his way over to the controls. If he could figure them out. It would clue him into the purpose of the room. So far, they only had a handful of details to go off of. The heart Legolas speculated over could very well be housed in the rune littered chest, but with magic involved, it was not impossible there could be some sort of core in this very room. Further speculation was pointless. For now, he would figure out what he could here, then look elsewhere.

"Might be nothing more than another place of production. I'll figure out what I can here. Have a look around if ye want."

Orryn, with your background in tinkering and crafting, you begin to understand the room’s purpose. This is not just another mundane workspace. The adamantine crucible suspended over the central pit is a marvel.

Given the setup, this forge could be used to:
- Smelt and shape extremely rare or magical materials—things like mithral, adamantite, steel or even magically volatile ores or alloys.
- Bind or contain magical entities, such as a fire elemental, to sustain intense and endless forge heat.
- Craft or repair magical weapons and armor, assuming the right tools and skills are brought to bear.

You also do the math in your head—and it’s staggering. If the crucible is truly made of adamantine, even a modest estimate puts its value at over 60,000 dragons. It could be dismantled and sold for a fortune, although doing so would obviously destroy its function as a forge.

---

The control mechanisms, however, are damaged—corroded valves, seized hinges, a few shattered gem inlays. You can’t safely operate them as-is. But with time, tools, and maybe access to replacement components, you could repair them. Fully restoring this forge would be a serious undertaking—but entirely within your capabilities.

---

Either way, that project can wait until the dungeon is secure and Grusk has authorized and paid you.

For now, you’ve learned: this crucible was designed to craft greatness—or contain an infernal heat.

All this is very impressive and I'm convinced that the old dwarf wasn't a simple blacksmith. I suggest we secure the alchemy lab and the two adjacent rooms and then we continue exploring the two unopened doors in the forge above. I think the clicker won't attack us unless it perceives us as actively thieving or destroying its domain.

Zyra, makes more annotations to her sketch and asks Orryn for details on the crucible room release mechanism and for Legolas to give her details on the secret door release so she can add more notes.

Legolas have made his conclusions about the small room and is not much interested in discussion between Zyra and Orryn
He walks out of alchemy lab and try to open forge's north doors - are they still locked as Grusk experienced it? he wonders, not believing the doors to be locked with a simple keys ... not in this place.

"The value of an apprenticeship here grows by the hour. This place carries extraordinary capabilities. If Grusk puts in the funds and effort, with which I would assist. We could forge more than just fancy daggers, an' nifty trinkets."

Orryn paused in awe. His mind filling with the possibilities such a room alone could contribute to his dreams of grand mechanical creations. With this, new alloys could be forged. Any design, only limited by imagination. They had to clear the place of danger. This was the break he needed.

Zyra's words finally reached him. The elf having left the room once more.

"Er, yes. Let's go. The locked room Grusk mentioned might be important. Or maybe we will find something in the scrap room."

Legolas stepped silently from the scorched remnants of the alchemy lab, his boots leaving no sound as he made his way into the forge chamber once more.He paused before the northern door.

No clang of locks. No resistance.

Unlocked.

He opened it slowly, ears tuned for the smallest betrayal of motion. The hinges gave only the faintest groan—an oddly restrained sound. Beyond stretched a narrow stone corridor, maybe fifteen feet long, ending in another door. The torchlight danced across smooth flagstone. Dustless. Pristine.

Too pristine.

Legolas frowned. The air here was… still. Like nothing had passed this way in decades. No webs. No scraps of parchment. No loose stone grit. Just clean stone. Purposeful silence. A hollow stillness that made his skin twitch and his hand move unconsciously toward his blade. Everything about this space screamed caution. The way it was too clean, the door too easily opened, the air too breathless.

A perfect place for a trap.

Legolas narrowed his eyes and remained still, torch held low and angled forward, casting long shadows across the hallway. He didn’t enter. Not yet.

This is wrong is all elf says.

Legolas takes his shooes off and drop into the corridor. Then throw other few foot further- at a distance of his normal walking steps.

"Wrong? In what way?"

Orryn's light merges with the elf's as he crosses the forge and peers into the prestine hallway.

"Ah, that does seem oddly clean. Like the tongs perhaps?"

Curious, but cautious to the elf's method of testing the pathway. Orryn steps a few paces back. Switching his torch hand as he rubbed at his shoulder.

"Damn that dust. Gonna need to soak my arm for a day after all this. Haven't had an explosion that bad since I first started workin' on propulsion systems. The stains never fully wash out, I'll have ye know."

Legolas pressed himself against the chilly stone frame of the doorway, toes barely touching the corridor’s first flagstone as he tossed his shoe forward in a slow arc. It fell with a soft scuff a few feet further in—right where his stride would normally carry him if he were to walk casually forward.

The reaction was instantaneous.

With a chorus of clicking mechanisms, a row of iron-tipped spikes sprang from hidden slits in the wall directly to his left, stabbing across the corridor in a deadly barrier of metal. The points crossed nearly all the way to the opposing wall, a bristling fence designed to skewer whatever crossed its path.

The shoe remained unharmed, resting safely a stride past the trap’s reach.

as Zyra comes up the stairs, she sees the stabbing blades, thankful both her companions are on the good side of the trap. She continues to cross the forge floor saying: Let me have a look fellas... she then proceeds to search for the trap override.

Zyra knew there were always overrides for these things—a hidden plate, a nearby lever, something designed to let the owner of the forge or a clever person disable the danger safely.

Her gloved hands pressed against the nearby wall, feeling for seams or a pressure plate. Her fingertips fell upon a small, well-wrought stone that seemed just a bit looser than its neighbors...

Instead of deactivating the trap, a hidden nozzle opened in the wall beside her. With a rush of air and a piercing roar, a sheet of flame suddenly blossomed forward, enveloping Zyra in a brief but painful cone of fire.