Dust to Dust: Man 07

Firefight

“I can give you two, maybe three minutes tops, Pile. You have that long to grab your sled and move to the edge of the camp.”

Unsettling creaking sounds were being emitted from the beams overhead as the roof began to char.

“If you can't get away from your pursuers by then, you're on your own. I'm limited by arrows. I'll follow on the rooftops and cover you as best I can, but that's my limit. I'm not here to rescue you, but you're the best chance I have at getting something out of all this going south. My partner here will keep me hidden and safe for as long as she can, so when we're found out, we're booking it.”

I can't put my armor on that fast. Shouldn't have left that blacksmith armor shop without it, stupid choice. Was too damn angry about him insulting my designs. What about my armor is outdated?! I could throw it on the sled. Might also be able to grab some parts from the blacksmith's shop. He was talking about about how archaic my designs were, perhaps he wants to make a contribution to my learning from his personal stock?

The golem simply nodded his assent.

After the bare-bones plan was laid out, Travis swung a leg over the wolf and mounted her, nocking an arrow as he did so. The duo seemed to fade, and their shadows lengthened over the course of a few seconds. Before long they were difficult for Pile to spot, even though he knew exactly where they were. Travis and the wolf each gave the golem a barely perceptible nod, signaling the start of the escape. With that, they simply... melted... into the shadow below them-

?!?!!?!??!

-and rose out of one of the shadows on the roof of the bar. The roof had a few leftover piles of wood from a recent repair, giving just enough cover and shadow for the ranger and his companion to emerge undetected. God his face was priceless. Travis chuckled to himself. I never get tired of people's reactions the first time they see that. A light tap of his heel into the wolf's side and she crept up to the edge of the building, giving him a perfect vantage point over the troops in front of the bar. Wish we could avoid Grance, but this is the closest exit to Rounic's shop. That golem better have some valuable stuff in that sled. At least he has a decent amount of oil, that'll be enough for me to get set up somewhere new.

Afterimages of Travis' bow blurred the air as he raised it, pointing it directly at the shining-armored hero sitting behind the troops. A hushed “sssst” was the only indication of the arrow being loosed, and Grance the hero was knocked off his horse by a black bolt that lodged itself in his chestplate.

THUNK

“FU- ATTACK! IT'S THE RANGER! STEALTH SEARCH PROTOCOL!” The assaulted knight sputtered, scanning the surroundings for the origin of the dark bolt that his armor barely saved him from. Gods help us, just one bolt and this armor has all but split down the middle. What a mighty bow. Could've used an archer like him in my corps.

The fire archers and smelter golems were on high alert, expecting another shot to take one of them out. They may lose one comrade, but the others could quickly track down the source of the attacks and finish them off. They were expecting another sneak attack from the shadows.

They were not expecting a heavyweight golem to crash through the doors of the bar and barrel straight into their amassed unit.

Smelter golems were blasted to pieces as Pile's bulk plowed through them. The mass-produced golems resembled mannequins, their thin limbs and anemic joints were no match for Pile's eight foot frame. Pile had ceased any attempt to keep his disguise to reach full combat effectiveness. His normally concealed exhausts were now belching black smoke at a prodigious rate. The mounting points for his pistons were transferred farther away from his joints, achieving greater leverage and therefore greater strength. This caused them to leave the layer of underlaying armor and the cosmetic sand skin layer, baring them to the open air.

Pile looked demonic. What was once a large man in a linen shirt had become a thing to be feared. The shirt had large holes torn in it, exposing the mechanical elements protruding from the golem's body. All this, adding to the fact that he was trailing thick smog wherever he walked, and many of Grance's trooped shrieked in fright. They had expected a simple possession case, or perhaps a well-disguised spy. But this... this was a terror that belonged on a battlefield, not on an espionage mission. Too heavy and powerful to pass scrutiny by anyone with decent perception, a machination such as this would be noticed far too soon in a city to be of any use at covert ops. Knowing this, Grance and his troops came to the conclusion that it wasn't here to spy.

It was here to attack, and from the way it dismantled the smelter golems it ran through, it had a chance of causing serious damage to the local area.

“ARCHERS FALL BACK! FIRE AT WILL, TRY TO CONFUSE IT! CONTROLLERS, USE ANY FUNCTIONAL GOLEMS TO-!”

THUNK

Another black streak embedded itself in Grance's chestplate, shattering it entirely. The arrow was weakened greatly by the defense magic permeating the hero's flesh, and was only able to sink a half inch under his right shoulder. Shit, my sword arm. I need, shit, why are they here? They have too much power to just be here for the kicks, but not enough power to actually do anything of note. This has to be a distraction. A possible invasion? I knew things had been too quiet lately.

“DON'T SEND REINFORCEMENTS! REPORT TO COMMAND! HAVE SCOUTS CHECK OUTSIDE

THE WALLS!”

In the time it had taken Grance to send off those few commands, Pile's charge had been halted by a veritable pile of smelter golem parts clinging onto him and a barrage of fire arrows. Each arrow that founds its marked sparked the oil residue in Pile's sand skin, causing a purely cosmetic flash without any serious damage. The problem was the smelter golems. When blown apart, they didn't cease to function. They didn't speak or show any signs of self preservation. A small metal rod extending from each single piece of still moving golem was the only indication of how they functioned.

Each mobile piece has a rod. And if I break a rod-

Pile snapped a half-inch thick steel rod like a twig.

Ah, it stopped moving.

A plan in mind, Pile maneuvered through the quagmire of broken metal, picking apart any antennas he spotted. As he reached for an antenna attached to an arm, his hand was caught by the arm's heated claw.

And another arm found purchase on his leg.

And another arm clung to his waist.

Alone, they were insignificant. Perhaps enough to subdue humans or weak monsters, but so far beneath Pile's physical strength it was laughable. Together, however, they completely immobilized the escaping golem in a prison of squirming steel. Once Pile was fully enclosed, the smelter furnaces closest to him roared, showering him in flames hot enough to melt steel. Blackened runes on the smelter golems glowed cherry red, seemingly reflecting the strong fires towards Pile, causing an improvised oven to form. Soon enough, the hellish temperatures caused a reaction.

Pile began to melt.

His linen shirt had long since turned to char, and the next layer to meat the heat was his sand skin. As the sand met the incredible energy of the flames, it began to blur, to shine. It was glistening, it was molten-

It was beautiful.

-------------------------------------------------

It was so hard to write this without making any steel beams dank memes jokes.

The struggle is real.

So yea, this fight is going on longer than I intended. It's gonna get -fun-.

THERE WAS A FIREFIIIIIIIIGHT

Get it? Because there's fire? And they're fight-

ah whatever. back to work.

EDIT: title