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Annie is on her trike on her way to school.
This van labeled HAZARDOUS MATERIALS is also on its way to school.
The van hits a patch of black ice. It goes spinning, it turns over, it slices itself open on a wrought-iron fence with spikes, and it disgorges boxes which smash open on the pavement. Some of them skitter clear into the slush.
Some of them - along with most of the van - land on Annie.
There is a whirl of bewildering pain and confusion -
- and she falls to the ground, injured and in more kinds of discomfort beyond that and moaning.
She slowly starts to heal before the eyes of her sole witness.
six artifact pileup annie in thedas
+ Show First Post
keep_busy
first-and-final
"Are you a dwarf?" rumbles the golem in a deep and ancient voice.
"In theory," says Stalas, staring up at it. "Ancestors, tell me I'm wrong..."
"If that other one is following you, we don't have much time."
"Fuck Branka, you're Caridin! And golems - and golems are - fuck!"
"Yes," says, apparently, Caridin. "Every golem holds a once-living dwarven soul. That is how they can move and act like living things. Now, quickly! Before she arrives - destroy the Anvil!"
"In theory," says Stalas, staring up at it. "Ancestors, tell me I'm wrong..."
"If that other one is following you, we don't have much time."
"Fuck Branka, you're Caridin! And golems - and golems are - fuck!"
"Yes," says, apparently, Caridin. "Every golem holds a once-living dwarven soul. That is how they can move and act like living things. Now, quickly! Before she arrives - destroy the Anvil!"
keep_busy
...Annie has no idea how to destroy this anvil. Maybe if there's more of those explosives around? Any luck?
first-and-final
No such luck.
"How? Why?" says Stalas. "Never mind, reasons later, action now."
Caridin hands him an iron hammer approximately one and a half times as tall as he is. Stalas doesn't even question his ability to lift the thing; he proceeds directly to the anvil, raises the hammer, and smashes the anvil repeatedly until the light goes out of its lyrium grooves.
Branka arrives in time to witness this spectacle. She screams in rage and anguish. Stalas turns, hammer in hand.
"How? Why?" says Stalas. "Never mind, reasons later, action now."
Caridin hands him an iron hammer approximately one and a half times as tall as he is. Stalas doesn't even question his ability to lift the thing; he proceeds directly to the anvil, raises the hammer, and smashes the anvil repeatedly until the light goes out of its lyrium grooves.
Branka arrives in time to witness this spectacle. She screams in rage and anguish. Stalas turns, hammer in hand.
keep_busy
"I could send her to another universe but then another universe would have to have her in it."
first-and-final
"I can't think of a universe on which I'd wish that fate," says Stalas.
"You!" howls Branka. She raises her axe and charges him.
Stalas waits calmly, blazing with silver light that makes the glow from the lava pit behind him look dim in comparison. At just the right moment, he sweeps the hammer around and knocks Branka off the ledge.
"Thank you," Caridin says gravely.
"Fucking waste," says Stalas.
"You!" howls Branka. She raises her axe and charges him.
Stalas waits calmly, blazing with silver light that makes the glow from the lava pit behind him look dim in comparison. At just the right moment, he sweeps the hammer around and knocks Branka off the ledge.
"Thank you," Caridin says gravely.
"Fucking waste," says Stalas.
first-and-final
"I'm not honestly sure," he says dreamily, gazing up at Caridin. "Now. What I would like most in the world, honored Paragon, is an explanation."
"This I can provide."
"Do."
Caridin hesitates, turning his helmet to look out over the lava chasm.
"This I can provide."
"Do."
Caridin hesitates, turning his helmet to look out over the lava chasm.
keep_busy
Annie gets as far away from the lava chasm as she reasonably can, now that nothing else need occupy her attention.
first-and-final
Stalas waits out Caridin's silence.
"At first... at first, the golems were all volunteers," the ancient Paragon says slowly. "But there were not enough... the king turned to other sources. Criminals. The casteless."
"Ancestors' sake," mutters Stalas.
"Yes," says Caridin. "I... I thought it was necessary, and then... When I protested, he put me on the Anvil. But my apprentices did not have the means to make a control rod. I kept my will - except that no golem created on the Anvil of the Void could destroy it."
"Which explains perfectly why you and the Anvil suddenly disappeared at roughly the same time and suddenly there were no more golems. But I'm not sure I understand why," he gestures around at the chamber and the lava pit and the broken Anvil and the gauntlet of traps, "this."
"I could not destroy it, so I had to hide it. It, and myself. As best I knew how. I took... only a few friends," and he gestures at the silent sentinels by the door.
"Perhaps you could introduce me sometime," says Stalas.
Caridin gazes at the lava pit again and, somehow, produces a quiet sigh.
"Don't you fucking dare," Stalas hisses fiercely.
"I have seen too many years pass already. I have nothing more to offer this world."
"Lizard fucking shit! Do you want to know why I trashed the Anvil on your bare word without a moment's thought?"
"...I don't understand."
"Because I believe you are the Paragon Caridin, and, knowing that, I don't give a shit for the Anvil. Not when I'm standing next to the genius smith that made it. You said yourself, your apprentices didn't have the understanding to carry on your work without you. The Anvil is less valuable than you are."
"I am so tired," says Caridin, as quietly as his great iron voice can form the words.
"I know," says Stalas, gently now. "I'm sorry. But look, this war is bigger than you or me. You regret making golems? Don't make golems! Make something else! Something only you can make! Come with me back to Orzammar. Take your place in society. Talk to people who aren't the same four people you've been hiding in a cave with for a thousand years. Live your life."
"I am not alive."
"You speak, you think, you feel. You're alive enough to be going on with. And Orzammar needs you."
"Orzammar has managed without me for some time now."
"My name is Stalas Aeducan," he says. "Middle son of King Endrin Aeducan. My younger brother had my older brother assassinated, blamed me, got me exiled to the Deep Roads to die, and has probably poisoned our father or something by now. If I'm lucky, Father's second is contesting the succession and the kingdom is teetering on the precipice of civil war. If I'm not, either Bhelen is already on the throne and ancestors only know what lizard hole he's dragging the kingdom down, or he's pushed it to an actual civil war and dwarves are murdering each other in the streets. I am going to go home and clean up my brother's mess, but in order not to be turned away at the gate I need either you or that," and he lifts the hammer one-handed to point at the defunct Anvil.
"At first... at first, the golems were all volunteers," the ancient Paragon says slowly. "But there were not enough... the king turned to other sources. Criminals. The casteless."
"Ancestors' sake," mutters Stalas.
"Yes," says Caridin. "I... I thought it was necessary, and then... When I protested, he put me on the Anvil. But my apprentices did not have the means to make a control rod. I kept my will - except that no golem created on the Anvil of the Void could destroy it."
"Which explains perfectly why you and the Anvil suddenly disappeared at roughly the same time and suddenly there were no more golems. But I'm not sure I understand why," he gestures around at the chamber and the lava pit and the broken Anvil and the gauntlet of traps, "this."
"I could not destroy it, so I had to hide it. It, and myself. As best I knew how. I took... only a few friends," and he gestures at the silent sentinels by the door.
"Perhaps you could introduce me sometime," says Stalas.
Caridin gazes at the lava pit again and, somehow, produces a quiet sigh.
"Don't you fucking dare," Stalas hisses fiercely.
"I have seen too many years pass already. I have nothing more to offer this world."
"Lizard fucking shit! Do you want to know why I trashed the Anvil on your bare word without a moment's thought?"
"...I don't understand."
"Because I believe you are the Paragon Caridin, and, knowing that, I don't give a shit for the Anvil. Not when I'm standing next to the genius smith that made it. You said yourself, your apprentices didn't have the understanding to carry on your work without you. The Anvil is less valuable than you are."
"I am so tired," says Caridin, as quietly as his great iron voice can form the words.
"I know," says Stalas, gently now. "I'm sorry. But look, this war is bigger than you or me. You regret making golems? Don't make golems! Make something else! Something only you can make! Come with me back to Orzammar. Take your place in society. Talk to people who aren't the same four people you've been hiding in a cave with for a thousand years. Live your life."
"I am not alive."
"You speak, you think, you feel. You're alive enough to be going on with. And Orzammar needs you."
"Orzammar has managed without me for some time now."
"My name is Stalas Aeducan," he says. "Middle son of King Endrin Aeducan. My younger brother had my older brother assassinated, blamed me, got me exiled to the Deep Roads to die, and has probably poisoned our father or something by now. If I'm lucky, Father's second is contesting the succession and the kingdom is teetering on the precipice of civil war. If I'm not, either Bhelen is already on the throne and ancestors only know what lizard hole he's dragging the kingdom down, or he's pushed it to an actual civil war and dwarves are murdering each other in the streets. I am going to go home and clean up my brother's mess, but in order not to be turned away at the gate I need either you or that," and he lifts the hammer one-handed to point at the defunct Anvil.
keep_busy
(Annie is not going to swoon on the spot in a fit of frustrated admiration and lust, she is not. She's just going to sit here smoldering and trying to make it less obvious by not pointing her useless eyes in Stalas's direction.)
first-and-final
"I..."
Stalas waits.
"...I am not at all sure they would turn you away at the gate," says Caridin. He gives the lava pit one last longing look, then steps away from it. "But I will do as you ask."
"Thank you," says Stalas.
There is a pause.
Then Caridin inquires, "Why are you glowing?"
"I'm not totally sure. Lyrium in my blood. I'm..." he looks at the hammer in his hand, all seven and a half feet of it, "...definitely a dwarf, notwithstanding my flippant response earlier, but at this point I'm not sure what else I am."
"I see."
"Do you want to introduce me to your friends?"
"Yes," says Caridin. "I will wake them."
The golems turn their heads nearly in unison, three toward Stalas, one toward Annie.
"Who's the little lantern?" one of them asks. Its stone face moves, unlike Caridin's helmet.
"This is Stalas. Stalas, these are Pell," the one who spoke waves when pointed at, "Hesta, Kador, and Tamek."
"Pleased to meet you all," says Stalas.
"I see you finally managed to get someone to smash your rocks in," says Kador. "Does this mean we all get to go home now?"
"If by home you mean into a lava pit then no," says Stalas, "unless you absolutely must. I am grabbing Caridin by his nonexistent ear and hauling him back to Orzammar to help me sort out my political problems. You're free to come along."
"I would be honoured by your company," says Caridin gravely.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," says Hesta.
Kador and Tamek nod.
"So who's the girl?" says Pell, glancing at Annie in her corner and raising stone eyebrows.
Stalas waits.
"...I am not at all sure they would turn you away at the gate," says Caridin. He gives the lava pit one last longing look, then steps away from it. "But I will do as you ask."
"Thank you," says Stalas.
There is a pause.
Then Caridin inquires, "Why are you glowing?"
"I'm not totally sure. Lyrium in my blood. I'm..." he looks at the hammer in his hand, all seven and a half feet of it, "...definitely a dwarf, notwithstanding my flippant response earlier, but at this point I'm not sure what else I am."
"I see."
"Do you want to introduce me to your friends?"
"Yes," says Caridin. "I will wake them."
The golems turn their heads nearly in unison, three toward Stalas, one toward Annie.
"Who's the little lantern?" one of them asks. Its stone face moves, unlike Caridin's helmet.
"This is Stalas. Stalas, these are Pell," the one who spoke waves when pointed at, "Hesta, Kador, and Tamek."
"Pleased to meet you all," says Stalas.
"I see you finally managed to get someone to smash your rocks in," says Kador. "Does this mean we all get to go home now?"
"If by home you mean into a lava pit then no," says Stalas, "unless you absolutely must. I am grabbing Caridin by his nonexistent ear and hauling him back to Orzammar to help me sort out my political problems. You're free to come along."
"I would be honoured by your company," says Caridin gravely.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," says Hesta.
Kador and Tamek nod.
"So who's the girl?" says Pell, glancing at Annie in her corner and raising stone eyebrows.
keep_busy
"I'm Annie. I'm from another world and variously magical for otherworldly reasons."
first-and-final
"And now we all know each other," says Stalas. "Time to haul ass back to Orzammar, unless Caridin wants to equip us first."
"I have had a few thoughts," says Caridin, gazing down at Stalas with his immobile steel face.
"Thrill me."
"If that is lyrium... it is possible I could craft a golem's body that you could wear like armour."
"...I am duly thrilled," says Stalas. "How do we test this possibility?"
"Give me a few hours to make another anvil."
"Sure." Stalas looks at the four golems. "Any of you want to come help me clear out a collapsed tunnel?"
Four stone heads nod.
"Annie, would you rather stay here or come with?"
"I have had a few thoughts," says Caridin, gazing down at Stalas with his immobile steel face.
"Thrill me."
"If that is lyrium... it is possible I could craft a golem's body that you could wear like armour."
"...I am duly thrilled," says Stalas. "How do we test this possibility?"
"Give me a few hours to make another anvil."
"Sure." Stalas looks at the four golems. "Any of you want to come help me clear out a collapsed tunnel?"
Four stone heads nod.
"Annie, would you rather stay here or come with?"
keep_busy
"...I'm actually really curious about how anvils are made." And she'd be useless clearing a tunnel and it's really hard not to swoon.
first-and-final
"Have fun learning!"
Stalas traipses off at the head of a squad of golems.
Caridin assembles assorted tools and does smith things. Apparently he does not need the seven-and-a-half-foot-long iron hammer for anything, because he lets Stalas walk off with it.
Stalas traipses off at the head of a squad of golems.
Caridin assembles assorted tools and does smith things. Apparently he does not need the seven-and-a-half-foot-long iron hammer for anything, because he lets Stalas walk off with it.
keep_busy
Annie tries to stay out of his way, but - from across the room - observes, and asks questions.
Caridin is kind of improbably dextrous for a ten-foot-tall animated suit of armour. He is also very willing to explain himself, although sometimes she needs to ask clarifying followup questions when he forgets that not everyone knows as much as he does about smithcraft.
keep_busy
She doesn't know anything about smithcraft but she's pretty good at articulating her questions.
Well, then, she will learn how a magic anvil is made. (The regular kind doesn't involve lyrium and is a whole different process, which Caridin is also happy to explain to an interested audience.)
keep_busy
She's so interested! The topic isn't Stalas, but she's still really interested!
It's hard to read Caridin's body language because he is ten feet tall and made primarily of rigid steel, but he seems to relax more as the conversation goes on.
first-and-final
Stalas comes back, chatting with the golems.
"...haven't changed all that much since your day. The Proving got bloodier, though, which I absolutely hate. There's a whole culture around Proving deaths now, counting them up and betting on them. It used to be a huge scandal if someone was permanently injured, and now it's 'ten gets you five there'll be a fatal poisoning tonight!'"
"Obscene!" says Tamek.
"You could've made that bet in the Orzammar I remember, in the right neighbourhood," says Kador.
"Yeah, but you wouldn't have heard it shouted from the stands," says Stalas.
"Depends where you were standing," snorts Kador. "No, no, I see what you mean."
"...haven't changed all that much since your day. The Proving got bloodier, though, which I absolutely hate. There's a whole culture around Proving deaths now, counting them up and betting on them. It used to be a huge scandal if someone was permanently injured, and now it's 'ten gets you five there'll be a fatal poisoning tonight!'"
"Obscene!" says Tamek.
"You could've made that bet in the Orzammar I remember, in the right neighbourhood," says Kador.
"Yeah, but you wouldn't have heard it shouted from the stands," says Stalas.
"Depends where you were standing," snorts Kador. "No, no, I see what you mean."
first-and-final
"It's sort of hard to explain when I don't know how much context you have," says Stalas. "People fight each other, for various reasons and with various explicit and unspoken rules, in a big arena with a lot of other people watching. It used to be the custom that you weren't supposed to seriously hurt your opponent, and I still play that way when I fight in a Proving, but hardly anyone else does and it pisses me off because I resent any situation that involves dwarves needlessly killing each other."