A web of magical force binds the metal fragments together. This energy is concentrated in Harmattan’s head. The rest of his body is thus both malleable and expendable. A sufficient burst of abjurative energy could temporarily dispel the force holding his body together. However, this web is extremely powerful, and such an effort would be unlikely to succeed.
As an afterthought-
Your previous encounter suggests that Harmattan was once a warforged soldier and only discovered his full power after his original body was destroyed.
These seemed to be Pierce’s own thoughts, a natural stream of consciousness in response to Harmattan’s arrival. They weren’t. Another force was sharing Pierce’s body-an ancient intelligence named Shira that had been imprisoned for tens of thousands of years. Pierce wished to know much about the entity that called itself Shira, but this was not the time for questions. Daine had his blades drawn and strode toward Harmattan. Pierce had seen the strange warforged scour flesh from bone in a blur of razor-sharp shards, and he knew that Harmattan wouldn’t hesitate to kill a human.
Pierce lunged forward, his flail spinning in a low arc. He had little experience with shame, but he felt a pang of guilt as he pulled back, dragging his surprised opponent to the ground.
“This fight cannot be won with a sword, Captain.” Pierce said. “Others need you. Do not throw away your life.”
Daine glared up from the floor, fury burning in his eyes. A vibration ran through Harmattan’s metal form-the rustling that served him as laughter-and Pierce saw drops of blood scatter to the ground. While he regretted having struck his friend, Pierce knew that it could easily have been Daine’s blood on the floor.
If you think you can win my trust so easily, you are mistaken, little brother, Harmattan said.
“Indeed.” It was a soft, feminine voice, all too familiar.
Warforged. The analysis came unbidden to Pierce’s mind. An unusual design, sacrificing durability for speed. Mithral plating with stealth glamer; improved visual acuity, allowing optimal accuracy even in conditions of darkness. Embedded …
The mystical analysis continued, but it was drowned out by Pierce’s own thoughts as the newcomer came into view. Slender, graceful, her mithral plates coated with deep blue enamel. Blades of dark metal extended from her forearms.
Indigo.
Pierce had felt a touch of guilt when he pulled Daine to the ground. Now it was a hammer, slamming against his spirit. He remembered the joy he’d felt fighting alongside her-mere moments before he tried to bury her and Harmattan by collapsing an unstable tunnel.
Indigo stood beside Harmattan, blocking any escape. Her face was a mask of blue metal, but Pierce could hear the anger in her words. “You made your choice, Pierce. You chose your masters. Now you will die with them.”
Shame rose again, but Pierce countered it with the memory of Harmattan ordering his minions to torture Lei. Pierce had indeed made his choice. Whatever bond he felt for Indigo, he had his own family to protect.
“You did not come this far to threaten me,” Pierce said, helping Daine to his feet.
You are irrelevant, Harmattan said. Despite Indigo’s wishes, I think I shall let you live. Our family is small enough as it is. But you have already served your purpose. Your passage gave us entry. And as for why we are here … it seems I was mistaken, after all. Destiny is a strange thing.
“What do you want?” Daine growled.
I came here in search of one thing alone. I knew that it was waiting for me in this ancient place, so I assumed it to be a relic of the distant past. But the one I serve leads me down paths I never considered. I want the vial.
Vial? This meant nothing to Pierce. “What are you talking about?”
He knows, Harmattan said, looking at Daine. A vial filled with blue liquid, glowing slightly, with a familiar seal stamped on the top. His cloak spread out around him, and at this distance it was easy to see it clearly-a rippling plane of metal shards. One thought, and this mass of razors would tear through them. I have no desire to damage it, and I would rather let my brother live. But you will all die if we battle. Give me the vial, little fleshling, and I may even spare you and sister Lei.
“Daine?” None of this made sense. But Pierce knew his captain. Daine was deep in thought. Clearly he knew what Harmattan was talking about.
Daine reached into his pouch and produced a tiny bottle-a sliver of crystal, pulsing with blue light. “Is this it?”
Yes.
“You came all the way to Xen’drik, you cut off Lei’s finger, for this?”
Yes. Surrender it.
“No,” Daine said, wrenching the stopper from the vial.
Harmattan hissed, and Indigo leaped forward in a blur of dark steel. Pierce was already in motion. A human might have been holding his breath or praying for a peaceful resolution, but Pierce had neither breath nor faith. While Daine was considering Harmattan’s offer, Pierce was calculating Indigo’s likely path of attack. He rammed into her, and she staggered back.
Indigo’s gaze remained on Daine. “No! You must not!”
Pierce followed her gaze. Daine raised the vial and drank the liquid. Pierce leaped out of the path of Indigo’s counterattack, half his attention still on Daine.
Daine collapsed.
NO! Harmattan’s voice filled the chamber, a howl as terrible as any storm. This cannot be!
Pierce took a step back and stood over Daine. He could not defeat Harmattan. He knew that. But if he were to die, he would die with his captain.
This was DESTINED! Harmattan roared. His cloak dissolved into a whirling sheath of steel, a storm reflecting his inner fury. This place. The vial. All has come to pass!
“If our destiny is to leave with the liquid,” Indigo said, her soft voice almost lost beneath Harmattan’s rage, “then let us reclaim it from his body.”
“No.” Pierce held his ground, and Shira’s thoughts converged with his own-
Harmattan is at a disadvantage here. He cannot unleash his full power without inflicting grievous injuries. If they seek to harvest Daine’s bodily fluids, they will need to act with precision. And he has been reluctant to kill you.
It was the only weapon that might prove effective against Harmattan.
“Brother,” he said, “this battle is over. Whatever that liquid was, it is lost to you. I will not allow you to perform this ghoul’s work. If you continue down this path, you will have to destroy me.”
Harmattan said nothing. The storm of steel surrounding him slowed, drifting back into the shape of the billowing cloak. When he spoke again his voice was calm.
If that is what it takes.
Indigo lunged at Pierce.
It wasn’t a battle but a dream. Pierce had spent hours contemplating her fighting style, considering her strengths and weaknesses, the tactics he’d seen her use. He knew exactly what she would do, and he was prepared for her.
But she was equally prepared for Pierce.
It was like fighting the wind. He tried to trip her, but she jumped over the blow. He had the advantage of reach, and he mirrored her motion. Blows that could split steel missed him by less than an inch. It was a deadly dance, yet Pierce had never felt so calm, so perfectly at peace. He didn’t need to think. He knew what to do.
He knew that Indigo felt the same way. In the first blows of the battle, anger had driven her. She’d struck with less care. Perhaps, if he’d been more ruthless, Pierce could have brought her down in those first moments. But now she was as calm as he. The battle became a tapestry of motion and strategy, and just being part of it … it was what they were made for. Pierce could continue for days, and he could think of nothing that would be more satisfying. Indigo was his world. Every sense focused on their dance.