Battle Hymn of the Republic

Willow's boots crunched against a sand more fine than the beach she had left from. One of her feet had landed in the footprint of the creatures ahead, and she would find it much larger and wider than her own.

The two large humanoids looked as though their wide, fat bodies were hewn from stone. Bands of metal bound their limbs into place, and a glow radiated from the spaces between their limbs and joints. Their heads were low, round bowls that possessed a single, glowing eye.

At Willow's declaration, the pair stopped, and their bowl heads spun like stony tank turrets to look at her.

"Oh thank the stars!" a loud, non-french voice bellowed from overall covered legs that swung and kicked with work-booted feet. "Is that you, Smart? Don't break the golems! They're stuck on a bad logical loop and they won't put me down. A good clunk on their heads should knock the coralite loose enough to reset them! Also–!"

The unburdened golem had taken a step forward, and was bringing one of its meaty, stone hands back for a swing.

"Their coralite is tuned to the vitriol philtre! By a lot!"

With an eye that now burned red, the thirteen foot tall golem swung.

There was a lot that could be inferred from the brief exposition the detained voice provided. They thought she was someone named Smart, which along with Creative gave her an idea of how the naming conventions she would encounter here worked. The person had also used a number of words that Willow recognized, but beyond recognition did little for her understanding. Thankfully they had also, more or less, explained that all Willow needed to do was knock some heads around. That said, that was a literal tall order when the heads belonged to golems in the Large monster category. As the one approaching her wound up to swing, she felt she had a solid guess for what vitriol philtre meant. Bro-lem the Golem here was full of vinegar and wanted a row.

With Steel still burning Willow pushed against one of the metal bands attached to the golem. Pushing herself backwards away from the strike she tumbled gracefully into a reverse somersault augmented by Pewter enhanced poise. As she came out of the tumble she had to raise her arms to help the jacket complete its own arc, but otherwise was happy with her form. Refocusing, she quickly cast about for something she could use to rattle this golem’s brain cage… coral cage? Then she smirked. If this golem wanted a row, she’d give it a row.

“Bjorn! Can you pass me that oar?” Willow called as she then burned Iron. Once the golem had followed through with its swing, the teen pulled on the metal on the golem’s shoulder. Yanked from the sand towards the bouldery behemoth she planted her boots on its shoulder before pushing with Steel when the band was below her so that she launched up into the air. Raising her hand above her head expectantly, she thought that this would be around the point where the oar would be whisked into her grasp. Hopefully Bjorn actually understood the Crown’s English.

The gravely noise of the golem's dome ground as it whipped left and right to find Willow. It drew back to slap at its shoulder, but the Allomancer had already launched herself into the air. At the peak of her jump, Bjorn, with much effort, had swooped in to drop the oar in her hand, only to find it snatched away. The wooden tool came down with a sharp crack over its head, snapping in two and sending the flange spinning off into the sand.

It was enough force to sink the dome, and the burning eye of the golem blinked off for a moment. Stoney legs shuddered, before it collapsed on its rear with a loud thump, staring dumbly into the sand.

The other golem lurched into action, raising its arms and spinning towards Willow to join the fight.

"Freedom!" roared the girl on its shoulder, she slid off the back.

Willow's new opponent squared up on her, as if to regard her seriously. It looked intent not to give her the opportunity to exploit its lumbering speed. The robotic goliath curled its fingers and took a step.

Then, it tumbled forward, falling flat with a thunderous rumble.

"I knew you would forgive me," came the voice of a girl, rounding the comatose body of the golem, "I knew you would come back—...!"

She came to a stop, and Willow saw a girl much her age, with voluminous blonde hair that was cut to a bob. Her skin looked like actual porcelain, with seams running throughout her frame, bound with sunken screws. Doll-like joints connected four arms to a body wreathed in a chest wrap, overalls and work boots. In one of her hands was a glowing stone with a glyph on it.

The brilliant smile she had ready for her rescuer melted away in an instant, and she wiped a tear away from one of her glassy, blue eyes. "You're not Smart."

Now Willow opted for the superhero landing as she grinned triumphantly at the second golem. Her weapon had snapped, but she figured even shortened it would be a better choice than using her hands or feet to strike the remaining foe. All that became moot when the second golem toppled without her intervention. Telling herself it was a good thing as she stood back up and sort of just held the broken paddle awkwardly. The girl who had been captured began talking again, and clearly had mistaken her for this Smart person. Was someone named Smart capable of one shot clocking a golem’s bonce?

Bouncing the oar handle lightly on her shoulder like a bobby’s trunch, Willow watched with idle curiosity as this girl approached; and once she remembered the situation she dropped the burn on her metals, but kept Pewter in mind in case this person tried anything. Actually, was she a doll? A four armed doll? Was this the Land’s Between? Goodness she hoped she wasn’t in a FromSoft game. Then there was the accusation. Yes, Willow knew the girl was referring to a person, but something about that phrase made her want to dunk the doll’s head in a toilet.

“You’re welcome,” Willow said with a hint of annoyance in her voice. Cocking an eyebrow as she stared down the other girl, Willow stopped bouncing the trunch.

Willow found her annoyance reflected two-fold back at her.

The four-armed doll girl looked to be trying to hold back some sneer of disgust or distaste at the Allomancer's presence. She looked away, contemplating the lake for a minute, and then a wave of emotion tightened her porcelain features. When she realized Willow was still there, she turned around and walked away.

"Whatever."

There was a misplaced sense of spite in the word, but she didn't say much else. The glyph-chiseled rune in her hand glowed, and one of the golems split open. With greater strain, she muttered, "Those odinkine are stealing your boat."

Sure enough, Bjorn and some of his harpy brethren were tugging the boat off the shore.

“Nah, I was just borrowing it to hunt spriggans,” Willow said as she ignored the girl’s tone. Turning to face the water she waved to the odinkine and apologized about the oar. “Cause, ya see, I saved a guy on the other side of the lake, and he thanked me by offering to help the far-traveler who has her own problems besides helping people out of the kindness of her heart.”

Trunch once again bouncing on her shoulder, Willow began to walk away from the water. Not follow the girl, but still nearby.

"Can't imagine why you would ever need forgiveness from someone named Smart," Willow called without looking, her tone sarcastic. Oddly, this reminded her of her first couple weeks of dealing with Drysi.

Thump!

Willow felt something bounce hard off the arm of her coat. The glowing, glyph rock fell at her feet as a warm bruise blossomed on her bicep.

At a respectable distance, for the throw, was the other girl. Her face was wet with tears, but it was still scrunched up in that same disapprobation. She looked at her hand, now empty, and then Willow. Then she looked at the rock, and then Willow again. She did this a couple more times.

The girl took a step, before withdrawing it, thinking better of going near Willow.

So, instead, she pointed at it.

"I'm going to need that back," she sniffed, holding out her hand.

A twitch pulled at the edges of Willow’s mouth when she felt impact. Closing her eyes she didn’t move as she took a few deep breaths. A bruise was just a bruise, but she’d clocked kids for less when she was younger. She’d just toppled a golem, surely this doll would be easy.

“No Willow, breathe,” Willow whispered to herself before turning to pick up the stone. Turning it in her hand she inspected it before looking back at the other girl. “You bean me with a rock and expect me to just hand it back?”

“Answer some questions for me first,” if this doll didn’t want to be helpful, Willow would make her be helpful whether they wanted to or not.

The other girl seemed to weigh her options at Willow's request. She wiped her eyes with one hand, scratched her head with another, and straightened her overalls with the last two. This odd preponderance of occupying her hands continued while she thought. The longer it went on, the more frustrated she became, her hands clamping tighter as they went.

"... Fine," groaned the girl, crossing her arms and planting her hands on her hips, "I answer your questions, and you give me that control rune."

Bjorn returned, the boat being tugged along by a couple of odenkine to the other end of the fjord. Fluttering down, he perched himself on Willow's shoulder.

Standing confidently as she held the position of power at the moment, Willow held the stone a bit in front of her chest as Bjorn returned to land on her shoulder that wasn’t occupied by a truncheon. Pondering the artifact Willow considered what questions to ask. Realistically she had unlimited questions so long as she kept the stone. Sure the girl would get irritated, well more irritated, but in that case Willow could just turn it into a hostage situation a la baseball into the lake.

“Alright, let’s start with some of my go-to questions in this place, plus a bonus,” Willow started as she fidgeted with the rune while looking at the doll. “Who are you? Have you seen any spriggans pass by? Have you seen a clown girl? And the bonus, what does this stone do?”

In the back of her mind, a part of Willow still felt silly asking what a rock could do. Given its markings and the girl’s desire to get it back gave Willow enough inclination to it being important, but she was still very much a layman when it came to runes.