The Mithril Cog wasn’t the fanciest restaurant in Steelhead, but it was up there. The establishment catered to the upper class, and its interior reflected this. Plush carpets lined the floor, countless paintings adorned the walls, and beautiful crystal chandeliers dangled from the ceiling. The waitstaff were all elegantly dressed and immaculate in their etiquette, and there was a live band providing a steady stream of low and soothing music. There was even an indoor water fountain decorated with enchanted ice sculptures that danced gracefully to the tune. Those that wanted to enjoy the opulent atmosphere were welcome to a seat at one of the dozen tables in the main lobby, and most patrons did so. Conversely, those that wanted something more private and intimate had the option of entering one of the magically sound-proofed booths. In most cases these customers wanted to get rowdy and loud without disturbing their fellow socialites, as the only noise that could escape those spaces was that of the enchanted bells meant to summon a waiter.

In other words, nobody saw it coming when a one-armed hobgoblin exploded through one of the booths’ thin walls. The greenskin tumbled across the carpeted floor before rising to his feet, axe at the ready.

“Froldachaka!”

Panic ensued as he conjured a burst of flame somewhere inside the private space just as a golem erupted from it. Fizzy charged forward, swinging that chair she’d grabbed moments ago. Her opponent nimbly dodged the improvised weapon, causing it to smash into and utterly demolish a small cart of dishes and glasses. The cacophony of fragile things breaking further threw the formerly quiet establishment into chaos. The greenskin’s axe flew out again and again, gouging deep divots into the carpets and walls as the golem kept expertly batting it away with whatever stick-shaped object was within reach. On one occasion she managed to snatch the thrown blade out of the air and immediately throw it back, though it safely warped to its owner’s hand before it could hit. The construct was also targeted by numerous elemental Spells and she returned fire by launching anything sharp, pointy, or heavy at her opponent through a combination of throwing and Magnetize.

The restaurant’s few on-site bouncers had their hands full trying to protect the other patrons from all the collateral damage and couldn’t interfere. Nor did they particularly want to. The security personnel was made up of former military and adventurers who could tell this exchange of blows was significantly above their Level. Not to mention that they didn’t know which monster to subdue first. The shiny one was technically a customer, but she was rampaging just as much as the greenskin. The way she casually put a hole through the wall to the kitchens as she tried for a flanking maneuver certainly didn’t earn her any friends on the staff.

Thankfully for those inside the restaurant, the violent confrontation was about to leave the premises.

Fizzy had managed to close in on the hob and was now swinging a broken table leg like a club. The greenskin had to try a lot harder to evade the fast and compact strikes. Plain wood by itself wasn’t scary, but he knew firsthand just how powerful the mechanical muscles behind it were. He was so focused on dodging that he didn’t notice the crashing noise behind him. A massive metal hand flew in through the window and grabbed him by the neck and shoulders. Both Tony and Fizzy only had a moment to process this sudden development before the former was yanked outside by the disembodied limb.

The Paladin quickly followed to find her partner-in-crime-to-be pinned to the pavement by an enormous construct. It had a wide frame, massive arms, a bulbous torso, and stubby legs. In short, it had the proportions of a two-meter-tall dwarf without a head. It was also painted a reflective sky-blue with silver lightning decals down the sides, arms, and legs, with blocky black letters identifying it as ‘FTF Mk. 2.’ Most people would assume this thing was a golem of some sort, and that was Fizzy’s first thought as well. However, she immediately discarded it. That thing was a piloted machine, as evidenced by the armored glass cockpit taking up the majority of its chest region. There was a person in there, and they were clearly intent on crushing Tony underneath the mechanized armor’s weight.

Fizzy couldn’t allow that. She’d put too much time and effort into the guy to let him die so easily. She moved before she could even think things through, rushing at the machine with Armored Charge and ploughing into one of its knee joints. The thing was much, much heavier than her, but she still managed to push it hard enough to get it off of Tony. The construct stumbled backwards for a few ground-cracking steps before it regained its balance.

“Who in the hell just did that?!” a high-pitched voice came out of it.

“Back off!” Fizzy yelled. “He’s mine!”

“Oh. Oh-hoh-hoh!” the guy in the armor laughed. “There you are!”

He launched his armor’s right hand at the golem, grabbing her before she could dodge out of the way. She struggled against his grip, but it was much tighter than she anticipated. The detached hand then floated her up as its ball-like wrist joint snapped back in its place at the end of the forearm. Fizzy was then brought up to the eye-level of the machine’s pilot. She couldn’t see him through the darkened glass of the cockpit, but she could feel a stare oozing through.

“Fascinating!” he spoke again. “When I heard a mithril golem was passing through, I wasn’t expecting one quite so… delicate.”

“Delicate? Delicate?!” Fizzy grew outraged. “Who do you think you’re calling delicate!”

She struggled even harder, but with only one arm was unable to muster enough force to escape the grip on her torso.

“It speaks, too! And so lifelike! I can’t wait to take it apart!”

The golem ceased her wriggling. It wasn’t the first time anyone had expressed a desire to dissect her, but this was the first time anyone sounded so… excited by the prospect. That creeped her out something fierce. It also confirmed the implication that whoever was inside was an Artificer, the mechanized armor most likely of his own design. The Arclight Artificer in Fizzy already recognized several techniques and principles that made it function, which in turn helped her devise a way out of her predicament.

“Alright, meatbag,” she narrowed her eyes at the glass. “You asked for this.”

She then directed a pulse of Magnetize through the armor’s palm and into its spherical wrist. This caused the entire hand to instantly fall out of its socket and clatter to the ground, releasing her in the process.

“What?! What did you do?!” he bellowed.

Fizzy silently raised her arm and pointed a finger at the machine’s knee, giving it the same treatment. It too fell apart as the magically maintained magnetic field around it was disrupted, causing the entire construct to fall over and crash into the ground. The machine started flailing helplessly as its panicking pilot tried and failed to get it to stand upright. Meanwhile the golem took a few steps back and ripped a steel pole out of the disjointed hand as if pulling a stubborn weed out of fresh soil. She approached the cockpit, a face-breaking smile on her face as she raised her newly acquired weapon.

“Who’s delicate now?!”

*THWACK*

“Huh?!”

*SMACK*

“Come out here!”

*CRACK*

“I’ll smash your skull into glue!”

*SMASH*

That fourth blow made the glass and metal frame finally give out and explode inwards. The cockpit interior was full of switches, levers, gauges, and dials, much like Fizzy expected it to be. The pilot was also as she envisioned him - a wimpy little shit, even for a gnome. He squeaked like a startled kitten as the thoroughly pissed off golem wrenched open the hole and reached for him. Strapped into his seat as he was, the guy could only barely avoid her hand as she tried to grab him by the face and squeeze it into paste, just as she said she would moments ago.

For better or for worse, she wasn’t able to get to him before the authorities arrived.

“Winter Wall!”

A barrier of snow and ice erupted from beneath the golem’s feet, knocking her a few steps back from her target. Looking over to the side, she saw no less than fifteen coppers pour out into the narrow street from around the corner. Over half of them were Casters who were already preparing a barrage while the rest of them stacked up in front to provide cover.

“Unknown mithril golem!”

One of the vanguard, a dwarf in blue-and-copper painted heavy armor, called out to Fizzy while holding up his badge.

“In the name of the king, stand down or we will use lethal force!”

The mechanized Paladin’s first reaction was to get ticked off. Who dared presume to have any sort of authority over her? A quick mental nudge from Plus reminded her that she should probably calm down before things escalated beyond the point of no return. Fizzy hesitated for a few moments but ultimately listened to her own advice and raised her hand above her head. That seemed to do the trick as the squad approached cautiously instead of attacking. They guided the golem away from the wrecked construct while extracting and evacuating its self-soiled pilot.

“Easy now, lass,” the dwarf in charge spoke to her in a firm tone. “Let’s not make this any worse than it already is, yeah? Now, care to explain what in Hadros’ flaming balls all that was about?”

“That meatbag in the walking junk pile attacked me!” she feigned outrage. “I just defended myself!”

The guy knew for a fact that wasn’t quite true. In reality, he and his squad had seen the whole confrontation happen. They had gotten reports of monsters at the Mithril Cog and had arrived just as Tony was yanked out of the restaurant. They lay in wait to see how the situation developed before they decided to step in. In other words, the officer knew full well that Fizzy was the aggressor, yet he didn’t seem too bothered about her blatant lies.

“And what about that greenskin over there?” he nodded towards the barely conscious hob on the ground.

“He ambushed me! In public! Just after I left him in your custody!”

“Uh-huh. And how do you suppose he broke out,” he humored her.

“You tell me!”

“Alright, lass. Why don’t you follow me down to headquarters and we’ll get all this sorted out, yeah?”

“You’re arresting me?!”

“We just want to ask some questions.”

“I’m the victim here! I know my rights!”

“Excellent, then we don’t need to read them to you.”

After a bit more back and forth and a good deal of shouting, Fizzy ultimately went along with the coppers. They slapped some mana-draining chains on her and Tony before escorting them back to the same dungeon she’d left less than half an hour ago. The golem was interviewed and asked to explain a number of things, such as who she was, why she was in Steelhead, and how she wound up in that situation. After hearing everything she had to say and holding her overnight, the coppers came back to her the next morning with a deal. They were willing to sweep the incident under the rug and let her go about her business on the condition that she stayed quiet about the whole affair. This was unsurprising given that their inability to hold their prisoners was what technically started the whole thing.

However, the golem then learned that it wasn’t the prison break the authorities were worried about, but the meatbag in the mechanized armor. He was a Fizzlesprocket. Maximilian Fizzlesprocket, to be exact. This familial connection explained a few things, chief among them being how he managed to get that thing. Fizzy herself had dreamed of operating such fantastical machinery when she was a naive little girl who knew nothing of how the world worked. Most Artificers’ kids did, she imagined. However, as she grew older and started to pick up her father’s craft, she realized how huge of a resource sink something like that would be. Not only in terms of construction, repairs, and general maintenance, but also research and development. If the Fizzlesprocket clan really was as big and influential as Fizzy had heard, then that explained how a cocky brat like Maximilian got his hands on one. It would also account for how he was allowed to pilot a dangerous weapon like that in public even though he was a civilian. Any attempt to prosecute the guy would likely open a whole case of worm cans, so the guards just let him off with a light slap on the wrist. In the words of Fizzy’s interrogator, the little shit stain just wasn’t worth the trouble.

The golem had to agree. Frankly speaking, she fully expected she’d bump heads with all three of the major Artificer clans eventually. However, it was far too early to do so. Getting on the Fizzlesprockets’ shit list was a sure fire way of getting cut off from the Royal Institute of Technology before she’d even applied. Maximilian might have bruised her ego by thinking he could just take her, but her ambitions were more important right now. So, even though she could have pressed charges for attempted abduction and grand theft automata, Fizzy agreed to keep quiet about the whole affair. That was the long and short of how she simply walked out of lock-up first thing in the morning, only to find a familiar face waiting for her just outside.

“Good morning, Fizzy,” Jess greeted her in a tired voice.

“Morning,” she curtly returned it. “You look terrible.”

“Didn’t get much sleep. They kept me overnight for questioning and stuff. That prison cot was murder on my back.”

Multiple people saw the gnome and golem walk into the Mithril Cog together, so it was only natural the blondie would be implicated in the mess. It was equally understandable that she was released now that all relevant parties agreed to drop the matter.

“Listen, Fizzy. I… don’t think I can handle much more of this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This. You,” the tiny woman waved her hands about. “Wait, no, that sounded mean. You as a person are incredible. You’re smart, and strong, and, and, and amazing, but this weird thing with Tony is driving me crazy. It’s only been a few days and I’m already more stressed out than when I was at New Whitehall. I’m sorry, I just- I have my own problems I need to deal with.”

Fizzy heard her out with a passive expression. She was… disappointed, in a way. The golem saw bits of her old self in Jess. Not the sniveling mess she was when Boxxy took over her life, but the cheerful and optimistic young Artificer that Cornie Fizzlesprocket used to be until a few years ago. Back then, her biggest concerns were keeping the workshop tidy and fitting component A into socket B. Having Jess around was a pleasant reminder of those simpler, happier times, and hearing her pseudo-past-self openly admit she was weak wasn’t… tasty. That aside, it would appear this meatbag had something of a misunderstanding.

“Okay?” Fizzy raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I don’t recall ever needing you. The only reason I stuck around was because it was convenient for the trip. No offense, but there’s no way you can keep up with me.”

“I one hundred percent agree,” the woman nodded furiously. “That said, I’d love to collaborate with you once this mess is over and you’ve settled in. I even have some ideas for that magnetic cannon project of yours that I think you’d like. Won’t go into details right now, but it involves some cutting-edge combustion engines that my boss works with. Speaking of…”

She rummaged through her pockets for a second before producing a slightly crumpled business card. She handed it to Fizzy, who curiously skimmed over it. It belonged to one Paulman Redbolt, of Redbolt Dynamics. The golem had heard of this organization before. It was the tinkers’ guild that formally employed the team of sappers that placed all those landmines around New Whitehall, Jess included.

“You can probably find me at that address if you’d like to hear more about it,” the gnome continued. “Oh, and the boss can help Keira with her Flamespitter specialization.”

“Uh…”

Hearing that name out of nowhere threw Fizzy for a bit of a loop, and seeing her like that jostled the gnome’s memory.

“Ah. S-sorry. Kinda forgot with all the excitement. I… should get going. Have a mag-rail to catch, but, uh, the hotel room’s paid for for another two days, you can just use it if you want.”

“Alright. I appreciate it.”

She really did. The golem didn’t sleep or eat, but she still needed somewhere to keep all her stuff. Not just her personal belongings from Azurvale, but also the spoils she’d collected from raiding Tony’s fortress. It was a lot of luggage, and all of it had been confiscated by the authorities following her arrest. She had every intention of reclaiming it, but only now it occurred to her that it would be impractical to just drag it around all day.

“Goodbye, Fizzy. It really was good seeing you again.”

“Same. Thank you for sticking with me this far.”

The golem extended a hand just as the gnome stepped forward with arms slightly spread. It would appear she was expecting a hug, but a deadpan look of ‘don’t get your filthy skin oil on my frame’ quickly changed her mind. That awkward interaction over, the blondie walked off, leaving Fizzy on her own.

“So what now?”

Well, almost on her own.

Now, we get busy, Fizzy told Plus. There’s a mountain of work ahead, and I need to start chipping away at it.

“Alright! What’ll it be, then? Mercenary Guild? Or maybe check in with the Hammers. Wait, do they even have a branch over here?”

They don’t. We looked into it before we left, remember?

“Oh, right.”

The Hammers of Horkensaft were the artisans’ guild Fizzy belonged to back in Azurvale. Despite the name, they had no presence in the Kingdom. Nor was that likely to change. Apparently the markets over here were oversaturated with craftsmen to the point where outsiders and foreigners had no chance of making a name for themselves. She’d never find work as an Artificer without joining up with some established Kingdom-based organization. That was why she quit her old guild shortly before leaving Azurvale with the intent of joining the Royal Institute of Technology. Until then, and probably for a long time afterwards, she would have to rely on adventurer activities for the bulk of her income.

Before she got on that grind, Fizzy went to check on Tony. The hob was snoring loudly in his cell after last night’s rumble, which royally pissed off the two guards that were stationed there to monitor him. While there the golem spoke to that weirdo technician from yesterday and learned it would take a bit longer than expected to finish Tony’s obedience collar. Apparently he needed to jump through some bureaucratic hoops to do the bloodless mana-binding. Fizzy also noticed there was no sign of the pudgy dwarf officer. Whether he was shit-canned or just off-duty was unclear and irrelevant. With all other matters settled for the moment, the golem collected her belongings and carted them back to the rented room she was supposed to share with Jess. The woman in question was already long gone.

Her stuff stashed, Fizzy finally went over to the Mercenary Guild’s local office and got busy. The Quests on offer were pretty basic stuff, mostly escort requests across the border and thinning out the monster population in the rocky hills surrounding Steelhead. There was also one about dealing with some kobolds in the sewers beneath the industrial sector. The pay was high since that place was full of foul-smelling and toxic substances, but a golem cared not for such things. She took the job and went off to squish the cowardly lizards in question. They were absolutely no match for her in combat. Some might doubt those words given these kobolds’ obvious draconic lineage. Their red scales, natural aptitude for fire magic, and overall physical appearance made it clear they were somehow related to Hadros, the elder dragon that claimed dominion over the region of Hell. Once a thriving dwarven province renowned for its delicious cheeses and quality leather, the region had been warped into a volcanic ash-covered wasteland by the living calamity’s prolonged presence. These days its name and that of its ruler were synonymous with disaster, suffering, and death within the Kingdom. A big reason for that sentiment were all of the lesser draconic monsters that constantly spilled out from Hell and into the neighboring territories. The only upshot of these regular incursions was that it provided a solid stream of Levels and Skills for adventurers, the military, and law enforcement.

Kobolds were the most pathetic of these seemingly endless creatures. They were just as small, dumb, and weak as goblins, but far less territorial. Easy prey by all accounts. Unfortunately for Fizzy, kobolds were also really good at running away. The red-scaled vermin gave her the run around for so long that she wasted half a day before she could smash just ten of them for her Quest. By the time she emerged from the industrial waste tunnels it was late afternoon and her lustrous frame was buried beneath several layers of the foulest sludge she had ever seen. Thankfully, the people in that part of town used a lot of constructs for production and heavy lifting, so it was easy for Fizzy to find a golem washing station where she could hose herself down. She did ultimately make a tidy sum for her efforts, but that whole affair illustrated an issue with her money-making plans that she hadn’t really considered. Namely, that monsters generally did not want to die, and as such were prone to fleeing at the sight of an angry golem swinging a gigantic wrench around. This was a problem because the construct wasn’t the best when it came to chasing down her targets. Her eyes, hands, and mind were all very quick, but her legs were a different story.

With that in mind, Fizzy decided to look into securing some… less aggravating work. She found plenty, mostly involving heavy lifting and manual labor. It was dull and somewhat demeaning work, but at least she wouldn’t end up caked in unidentifiable substances. So, that was what the golem did for the next few days. She did her tasks methodically and efficiently, eager to earn as much gold as she could as quickly as she could. This attitude ended up giving her a glowing reputation around Steelhead’s labor force. The Horkensaft Kingdom’s populace held hard, honest work in such high regard that they considered it a borderline sacred thing. This, coupled with the fact that Fizzy literally exuded a holy aura, gave the locals the mistaken notion that she was one of Goroth’s servants. As a result, she was approached by representatives from several guilds that wanted to count her among their ranks. She declined them all as she was planning on leaving for the capital as soon as Tony’s collar-fitting was done.

That moment finally arrived on day five of her stay in Steelhead. Fizzy visited the city hall building for hopefully the last time. She walked into the dungeons at precisely eight in the morning in accordance with her appointment from the previous day. She handed over several heavy pouches of coin, signed a bunch of papers, and was finally brought to her newly instated shield-sef. Tony was, for lack of a better word, lazing about in his cell. The way he was splayed out on that stone slab of a bed made it seem as though he was actually enjoying his stay. At least, that was how Fizzy saw it. For better or for worse, she had seen enough of his face to tell he was much more relaxed than he was when she last saw him.

As usual, this casual attitude was completely at odds with what many would consider dire circumstances. Imprisonment aside, the hobgoblin now sported a heavy metal collar hanging from his neck. The thing was bulky, almost as thick as the golem’s arm, and painted in black and white stripes to signify its purpose. It had been bolted and welded shut, ensuring its removal was impossible so long as the hob’s head was attached to the rest of him. True, it could still be broken by force or otherwise tampered with, but doing so would trigger its kill switch and instantly decapitate the wearer. The exact method through which this execution was achieved was largely a mystery to Fizzy. The only thing she had been told about it was that it involved some precisely calibrated spatial magic. Not quite as flashy as the exploding collar she envisioned initially, but far less messy.

In any event, the prisoner rose to his feet when he saw the golem approach and did his best to look mean through the bars of his cell.

“Seven, seven, charlie, almond, scene, five.”

Fizzy read aloud the activation code she was handed, causing the striped obedience collar to vibrate and buzz for a few moments.

“Excellent,” the guard escorting her declared. “That’s everything, Ms. Rustblood. You may take your shield-serf and leave. I will remind you that the obedience collar comes with pre-assigned permanent directives relating to violence against citizens. You are otherwise welcome to assign orders and such as outlined in the provided user’s manual.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just hand him over, will you? I got places to be.”

“If you insist. Boys, do as the lady asks.”

The two dwarves that had kept watch on the prisoner since his escape were quick to unlock his cell and shove him out. The greenskin let out some profanities in his native tongue, but otherwise didn’t resist.

“Come on, Tony. Follow me.”

The collar buzzed once as it bestowed the hobgoblin with a newly generated Quest to follow his handler or lose his head. The magic involved meant that the monster could be bossed around even if he and Fizzy didn’t already share a language, allowing them to keep that part a secret for now. Regardless, the hob did as instructed and trudged after the golem as she led him out of the dungeon. Once on the street, she was quick to give him the same hooded cloak she forced him to wear when they first arrived for the same reason. If anyone was going to be turning heads, it was her.

“So, boss. What we huntin’ first? Big things, or really big things?”

Tony might have enjoyed his little vacation in the dungeons, but he was eager to get back in action. His defeat at Fizzy’s hand proved that he had grown soft and complacent during his stay in that fortress, and he took that as a sign that he needed to step his game up. His shiny new boss was the ticket for that. Fighting her was one of the few things that had gotten his blood pumping since his retirement from Hero of Chaos duty about a decade ago. It was a thrill he’d almost forgotten, and one he wanted to recapture. To do that, he needed a suitably tough opponent, and any magical beastie that the tough-as-anvils Paladin couldn’t handle by herself was sure to fit the bill.

“Neither.”

Unfortunately, Fizzy had other plans.

“First we’re going to this golem washing station so you can scrub me down.”

“… Ke?” he blurted out.

“Pretty sure I still have some dried sewer gunk in the back somewhere,” she carried on. “I’m told it reeks like dead horses, so it shouldn’t be hard to find.”

“Uh…”

“I’ll need a shine-job after, of course. That reminds me, the metal polish I use emits some toxic fumes, but the blindness is only temporary.”

“What?”

“You’ll get used to it pretty quick, anyway. We’ll be doing this at least twice a day.”

It was at that point that Tony realized that maybe, just maybe, he should have run away after all.