Iron Gods: Valley of the Brain Collectors

Assault on the Lord's of Rust

Skzzplat The lazer blast passed through Ethered’s jet of plasma emitting from the small ion drive embedded in the stump of his neck, where his body used to be. He exclaimed some exasperated explictives to anyone with hearing range.

“Look at the bright side,” Ruby, his demon tainted protege quipped. “If you had a body, you’d be dead. Now stop bitching and let’s go get Hellion once and for all.”

“Uilean, lay down sometching distracting!” growled Garth, the half-orc nominal team leader as he pulled the pin on a concussion grenade and waited, counting. “6. 5. 4…”

Uilean reached around the metal girder she was using as cover and whispers her commands to the magic that surrounded her. A force that somehow, through hard work and study, she was able to tap into. In a few instances, a black shroud divided the room in two, Garth then tossed the grenade through the illusion, hearing a satisfying bang and following screams. Oh shit he thinks as he hears a familiar scream.

“I am coming!” shouted Andover, the crazed priest of an ancient cult the others had never heard of. He ran right through the darkness. The the sound like nothing they’d never before filled the room. A loud buzzing that sound like it was produced by explosions, at least ast that was the best they could make of it. Pieces of Andover start d spraying though the black shroud Uilean had summoned.

“Shit!” Screamed Garth. “Uilean. Ethelred! Cover us, Ruby, on me let’s go.” Garth leaped up, drawing his sword. Ruby closes her eyes, and a bolt of lighting runs along the edges of her own blades. They both charged through the blackness as Uilean dissolved the barrier illusion and Ethelred blasted flames summoned from his face.

Garth ran right into the serrated chain blade of the orc woman. It passed right through his torso, sending his body into vibrations and blood spraying from his mouth as he screa,ed. Ruby hastily screamed out the words for another spell and took two swings at the orc. The first missed, but the second hit, sending electricity sparking thoughout the orc.

Kulgara howled for a second, then smiled and kicked the dead half orc off of the sputtering chainsaw. “Run girls. You can’t hide from Hellion.” Behind the massive orc, was about a dozen crazed cultists chanting “Kulgara” and “Hellion!”

And they did run. But they came back.

Lords of Rust


The torch has been relit, but the heroes of Torch have another looming threat. Hellion. Through information volunteered by his former top cleric, Meyanda, the heroes have learned that Hellion has machinations for the energy that powers the torch. Through the weeks since relighting the Torch, Meyanda has renounced Hellion for the goddess of machinery, Brigh. This new loyalty doesn’t diminish her respect of the demigod, only makes her fearful, a new feeling for the android priestess. She insists that the heroes must take action soon, or Torch will be overun by the minions of Scrapwall.

Nalakai's journal

The journal is written in Orc, and interpreting its
dense, crabbed writing reveals a recurring
theme in the prayers—Hellion’s primary goal, it seems, is to
destroy something his worshipers know only as the “Source”
or the “Prime.” It is obvious that Hellion is some
sort of offspring of an even greater menace, one that Hellion
seeks to eradicate in part as vengeance for a period of time
that Hellion served the Source as a slave, but primarily so
that Hellion can take control of this more powerful entity’s
resources. By studying the prayers and succeeding at a DC
14 Knowledge (local) check, a character deduces that this
powerful entity, whom Hellion hopes to kill and replace,
dwells somewhere below Silver Mount

Kulgara's Journal

Hellion hopes to use the reactivated excavator as its body
and can transform it into a mobile stronghold that may
even be capable of burrowing into the heart of Silver
Mount. Unfortunately, the structure still requires
vast amounts of power, and Meyanda’s failure to
gather that power has resulted in an unwelcome
delay to this plan. Hellion hopes that this is
but a temporary setback, but knows that every
day that passes before it can strike against Unity, the
greater AI will continue to grow in power—if Unity can
find a way to extend its inf luence beyond Silver Mount in
a significant way, it will be too late to oppose it.
• With the excavation and repowering of the excavator
delayed, Hellion recently revealed to Kulgara an
interesting secret: Hellion was not the first of the Iron
Gods spawned by the entity it calls “Unity.”
Another came before him—a “prophet of
Unity” named Casandalee. Hellion regards
Casandalee as a sister, and notes that just as it
escaped Unity, Casandalee betrayed Unity and
escaped as well. According to the fragments of
memories Hellion inherited from its creator,
when Casandalee fled Unity, she took
with her a device called a neurocam,
onto which had been recorded many
of Unity’s secrets and, Hellion hopes,
Unity’s weaknesses. Fortunately, Unity’s robotic
minions were never able to track down and
capture Casandalee, so Hellion believes
that this neurocam still exists, hidden away wherever
Casandalee ended up. He notes that she was an android,
not an artificial intelligence, and that she has certainly
been dead for these many centuries, but that if the siteof her death could be discovered, it might be possible to
retrieve the stolen neurocam and extract key information
about Unity and its defenses.
• Working with information supplied by memories
stolen from Unity before Hellion f led Silver Mount
and independent research done first by Meyanda and
more recently by Kulgara, Hellion has discovered that
Unity’s robots finally caught up with Casandalee in
southern Numeria, in an area now settled by worshipers
of Erastil—the town of Iadenveigh. Kulgara has been
working up a plan to mount an invasion of Iadenveigh
to search the site for clues or, perhaps, the location of
Casandalee’s last stand and the neurocam,
but it’s obvious from Kulgara’s notes
that she’s not yet sure exactly
where in Iadenveigh to start
the search


Vrix looked about, sniffing at the air for additional information. Finally, a place that felt a bit more normal, and not so…exposed. The warren walls were close in, and the dim lighting offered opportunities to hide if needed.

Overall, scrap wall was a complete dump, and Vrix felt at home. Just clans perpetually battling to be on top. So much more honest this way.

Plus, this was clearly home to rat folk. Vic would at least be able to eat normally again. Top worlds food was strange, even if it was filling. Finally, proper skewers of meat held over a fire. Finally vegetable paste.

It didn’t hurt to have attractive females around either…

The weakness

“That horrible thing in the cave must have a weakness, it must.” Vrix hissed as he slinked through the alleys of Torch. “Everything has one. Watch, collect, think” Vrix repeated the words of the burrowmaster, the ones he heard so often as a child.

“First, something for the clumsy tallfolk. Stepping on tails, you think they would know better. I could fit three of my clanmates into that tunnel.” Vrix made the purchase, and was pleasantly surprised that the merchant took the paper seriously.

Then, with a flash of inspiration, Vrix scampered off to find Kichet the welder. “Look, I need it. Just for a while, then I will give it back”

“If I give it to you, what happens when I need it? No deal”

“The light is out, there is no work for you.”

“And when it comes back on?”

“You baboon, I need it to turn the light on. If you refuse me, you’ll never have work again.”

“If I’ll never have work again, then you can buy them. I’ll need the coins.”

Vrix hissed. “Then I’m getting my discount. Eight gold, you thief.”

“Eight gold for mine, and eight for Lewin’s”

Vrix said nothing, but pushed the gold across the table. He took the goods, and contented himself with thoughts about murdering the frog thing instead.

Back to Torch


A small form slips out of the shadows and into the busy streets of Torch. Covered in a cloak patched together from rags and bearing a quarterstaff, Steerpike glides through the crowds. The people themselves make way for the android, giving the figure a wide berth. Some go as far as form quick signs to ward off evil or mutter quiet prayers. Everyone knows the creature was strange. It looks like a girl, but it’s face is flat and emotionless. And it’s eyes, gods beyond, its eyes . . . black and empty and cold. Folks hurry past the shabby little form quickly, but Steerpike doesn’t seem to care. Her eyes scan the crowds, the buildings, everything she passes as she makes her way to the Foundry Tavern to see Val Baine.

Her trip into the wastelands surrounding Torch had once more yielded nothing. No clue. No new information. She had searched the nearby ruins once more, this time in the company of the savage gnome child and its cat. But again she had found nothing to answer her questions. So she returns to Torch. She returns to Val. Because she has nowhere else to go.


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