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Terraria Story 2 - Part 3

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Gray trekked across the land of Terraria, westbound and worried. He wore over his armor a frigid, rocky turtle carapace, to conceal him from the robots' heat sensors. However, their cameras were so well developed, they would probably see him in normal light too - but not if he made it to the Dungeon in time.

He almost made it. A full phalanx of robots, 10 strong, charged out of the underbrush as he surmounted the steps into the ancient building.

Gray felt anger in that moment - anger that he had been stopped before reaching his goal. He could run, yes, but he was Gray. He wouldn't stand down to some stupid artificial intelligences.

The robots melted like snow against the flames of his Inferno Fork. Gray looked in surprised at his gloved hand, marveling at how much power he could understand. But he trudged on.

The steps took much longer to climb down than normal. Gray was just beginning to notice this, wondering, when a voice behind him said, "The Dungeon is lengthening, putting up its defenses in preparation for the final push."

Gray whirled, his fighting reflexes charged, to find the Necromancer looking at him. The old, hunched skeleton cocked his head. "You should go to the cell blocks. Come, let my brethren show you the way."

Two skeletons, at the clap of his hand, appeared on either side of Gray. They looked distasteful at their task, but led him down through the maze of corridors to the cell blocks.

They were greeted by a formidable sight. A massive, hunched creature in steel-bright armor stood, with its back to Gray and his two guards. A glowing forge hissed and grumbled in front of it, empty cells lining the walls. Then it turned, and only seventeen years of battle training kept the warrior alive as his comrades were decapitated. The sword lashed around once more, lower, and Gray flattened himself to the floor in a dive roll. He came back up swiftly, and put his sword to where he thought the throat was on the creature. He flipped it up, and the face guard swung up, latching in place at the top of the helmet to reveal... nothing.

Darkness took the place of this creature's body, and Gray's shock was enough for it to hit him across the ribs with the flat of its massive blade, throwing him into the wall. Had it wanted to, it could have angled the blade but a bit, and cut Gray in half surely as a knife could cut butter.

Gray was pinned against the wall faster than he could think by a massive hammer the size of his upper leg. It kept him in place, pressed painfully against the wall. The left hand of the thrower, the huge beast across the room, stayed extended, fixing the magic hammer in place.

"My old hammer," it rumbled. "An imperfect weapon. But perfectly sufficient until we... get the master technology. I have forged myself a sword out of our closest approximation to it, yet it is still nowhere near as powerful as the metal of old.

He lifted the blade, grunted, and brought it back down to his side. "You see? It shines with a golden light. Gold is the color of change. Did you know that, in the ancient legends, the "villains" of the story called their age the Golden Age before it was torn down? It is the color of change for the better, of everlasting beauty, of untarnishing greatness. Yet it is not what we want, in this case.

"We want a deep red glow, with white at its center. You know the light which I speak of, Gray. It is the color of the ancient Terrarian technologies."

Gray gulped and attempted to speak. The Paladin cut across his strangled mumblings. "How do I know your name? I know your name because I was the man who fought alongside your parents and their friends."

Gray's eyes widened beneath their mop of black hair.

The Paladin continued. "Yes, I was Arthur, the good Paladin."

He turned his back on Gray, the hammer still holding the warrior against the wall. "You see, no matter the goodness within, all Paladins have a core of the utmost evil. That is the spirit which remains even through death. My armor is forged of a harder metal, that which is an alloy of my old armor's scraps, as well as the souls of evil and good beings combined. It is far superior to Paladin armor, but it is nothing compared to the metal of old. That would make the wearer nearly invincible, and that is what I require.

"You see, machines are wonderfully powerful, yet they can still be beaten by one who has the might of Terraria behind them. The land fights these machines, and does not lend its strength. You are able to decimate my legions with that Inferno Fork of yours, an ancient magic far beyond anything I can replicate. And with this metal of old, I can be truly invincible to all, man and machine!"

Gray gulped and wormed free of the hammer, but his hand was caught between its crushing force and the wall. The breaking of bones sounded, and Arthur's evil soul turned.

Gray parried the swipe of his sword, but he was disarmed in the process. His True Night's Edge flew across the room and into the burning forge.

Arthur turned his back on Gray once more and plucked it out of the furnace. It was coated with molten metal, dripping with it. He cast it into the corner of the room.

The hammer retracted, Arthur drawing it back for a final attack.

As it shot toward Gray at the speed of light, the sword flew out of the corner of the room. It was two, a gold-and-pink blade radiating greatness, and Gray's own True Night's Edge, radiating its dark aura. The two crossed in an X, then moved toward each other. Where their blades overlapped, they fused into a new sword: green and brown, with no aura at all, just a feeling of better days, of no metal covering the land.

It shielded Gray from the hammer's strike, and made it ricochet into Arthur's helmet. The Terra Blade, holy sword of all Terraria, flew into Gray's hand for the first time. Gray dashed from the room, cradling his broken arm, as the howl of the last Paladin rattled the bones of every creature in that ancient building.

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