1st person---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I watched the broken chains writhe and stretch to gather its fallen mass, but it was to no avail. The pestilence had dug deep into the metal and destroyed the necromantic control ruins, leaving it unable to even control the freshest of muscles, much less its ancient body made of powerful beings. I was impressed at its ability to even move. Blind and lost the sentry was panicking, trying desperately to ward off my approach. But without its runes, it could not even fend off a regular man. I found myself entranced in its weak struggle, a being that struck fear on all battlefields it graced, was now nothing more than a mass of metal. I laid my hands on the tightly wound ball of interconnecting links and pried it open, revealing a large box of clockwork and machinery.

With a quick movement, I snatched one of the hoses and ripped it out causing the chains to try desperately to remove me. Uncaring I began to wrench off the gears one by one causing its struggles to dramatically increase before slowly weakening. A frantic ticking began to sound as panic began to set in. It was a nice sound, very soothing. I soon came across the broken shaft of the atgeir. It seems that age had weakened the ironwood. Disappointment filled me at my new toy being broken, I should have expected that though. Excitement had consumed me when I first got my hands on it. I’ve always wanted a true proper atgeir, but there were only about a couple thousand in existence, belonging to only two regiments of the old Norse army. Its presence confirmed my previous deduction of the source of the flesh sentry, the tenth and final battle of Hell’s Reach.

A particularly devastating battle, even by my skewed standards, causing the extinction of several demon and spirit species and the destruction of several armies. Though I was not there for that battle, I was there for the first two and the brief sixth battle. If I remember correctly my absence was caused by Alice’s little posy and Rominger piercing the veil. Problem children the lot of them. I carefully slid the rest of the spear out and gently placed it beside me. Unfortunately, due to the shattered shaft, its trajectory was thrown off by a couple of inches, narrowly missing the demon core. The wires and hoses became increasingly dense, helping move pure mana from the core to the rest of the brain. These kinds of clockwork mechanisms were state of the art at one time, using all the gears and mechanisms to create a kind of easily produced pseudo intelligence that can weave and control massive spells. I played around with it before it became widespread, but I couldn’t produce something of this caliber until much later, that being my doomsday watch.

I ran a claw along one of the larger gears as it slowly turned. Know what, I’ve been in need of a watch, and I now just so happen to have all the materials for the said watch. I rubbed a bit of grease off the blackish gold metal. That'll make me a nice watch. With my methodical efforts, the large cube became nothing but a pile of machinery Surprisingly, I struck gold when I was finishing up. Lodged in the bottom left quadrant was another atgier. This one was in horrid shape though. Rust separated the shaft and tip, while the entire thing had detreated greatly. I was happy nonetheless, the dwarf that used to forge them was killed some time in the early parts of Hell’s Reach, so there were only so many left around. I tossed with the demon core hand to hand, It was the heart of the whole operation, providing mana to run the brain and body. By combining nuclear fission and a mana siphon it can theoretically go on forever. But this process also makes it very very volatile, and highly radioactive. I could already feel the beta and gamma radiation trying to pass through me. A slight headache began to form as my magic began to act up, and soon the hunger started to yank at my senses. Magic and radiation have always been at odds, with radiation destroying the structure of magic and causing it to decay back into mana, and magic blocking radiation from traveling. The hunger also just so happens to despise radiation for whatever reason.

I have long grown used to it though, with enough practice you can block and circumvent most of it. And with my magic production and mana control, I can stand in the middle of a nuclear fallout with minimal protection for as long as I please. But that doesn’t mean that the headaches or the hunger will stop acting up. Taking that into account I could probably only stay like that for a couple of years before the hunger throws a hissy fit and force me somewhere else. I rolled the demon core in the palm of my hand, admiring its seamless glossy black surface. It’d be a shame to just toss such a bountiful energy source. I placed a temporary shield around the ball and gathered some of the piping and gears that were damaged. With a little bit of effort, the black gold began to soften until it could be shaped like clay. Combined with black rock (which by itself is just as exciting as its name) and lead from the old infernal realm. Black gold has an absolutely ludicrous melting point thanks to the black rock which I dare not replicate anywhere near life. But these two addons also gave the material the ruff toughness of steel and extreme resistance to gamma radiation.

Despite its ludicrous melting point that only the old infernal realm could produce safely, it can still be softened by targeting the magic conductive gold molecules with, you guessed it, magic. And voila, a cask to prevent radiation leakage until I can figure something else out. I placed the box underarm and began to transport the bigger items to the ward stone and the smaller gears and machinery to my shack. I left the cask containing the demon core at a nearby mountain top because I rather not tempt fate by keeping it by all my wards. Instead of being the councilor figure aiding a life transition, I found myself the sheep, lost and confused.