The group deliver Trinket’s severed head to Damas, much to his delight. After a celebratory round of something that tastes like engine coolant, he informs them that the arrangements have been made with his contact, and that the meet is due to go down in a couple of days. In the meantime, he gifts the party with his nephew, Flinn, a scrawny lad, claiming that they might find some use for him. He’ll send word when the time is set. This gives the party some time to recover, both from their wounds and from the hangover.
However, the situation at large within Gelt Square is rapidly deteriorating. As the group make their way across the district to their lodgings, they encounter a large crowd, at least a hundred strong, outside the local Gendarme barracks. Both sides are armed, but worse, Rathos detects telltale signs of psychic energy coming from deep within the crowd. The Acolytes insinuate themselves in the crowd, following Rathos towards the source of the emanations. A hooded figure stands in the middle of the crowd. When the group intervenes, the figure unleashes a psychic firestorm, immolating a dozen rioters and inciting mass panic. The crowd surges away in all directions. Those at the front are mown down by the twitchy gendarmes.
The Acolytes manage to limp away in the confusion, and rest up at their lodgings, having added second degree burns to their already battered constitutions.
Good to his word, Damas summons the group a few days later. Along with his bodyguards, a hulking pair of ex-guardsmen Kol and Rogan, he takes them down through a series of tunnels, recently excavated and guarded by a gun servitor. The Acolytes can see the Damas takes his business very seriously. They stop at an abandoned commuter station. A small group of mutants steps into the light.
Their leader, who Damas introduces as Garba, is a hunchback, with multiple sets of eyes peering out from beneath his ragged hood. He informs the Acolytes that there will be no Twilight, until the Benefactor is appeased with a suitable offering. When asked, he responds that only blood of the pure will suffice. The Acolytes turn and look at Flinn, who bolts into the tunnel mouth. He doesn’t manage to get very far before Rowarke takes him down. They offer him a deal, either his hand or his life, and some make-shift surgery is performed. The group returns with their grizzly trophy and Garba leads them onward to meet the Benefactor.
After more dark, dingy tunnels, reeking of promethium and rot, Garba leads them out into a siding. Beside the rusted tracks is a shanty of flakboard huts, a group of a dozen or so mutants huddled around a burning promethium barrel. Past the shanty is what looks to be an old armoured locomotive, attached to two rail carriages, one a bulk liquid container. Midway along the train is a shrine erected out of flakboard and crusted with blood. Garba takes the hand and leads the observance. The Acolytes follow, bowing. With his head lowered, Rowarke notices a tell-tale blinking light beneath the carriage.
A great clanking rises from inside the train compartment. The door squeals aside and a servitor appears in the doorway. It looks dumbly at the mutants and clunks down the ramp toward the shrine. As the mutants bow and chant, Rathos takes the opportunity to slip onboard. He enters the carriage and is confronted by a drug workshop, rows of servitors linked to workbenches and vats of chemicals. Unfortunately he is spotted, and a servo-skull swoops down to attack him. The alarm is raised and the group rush onto the train, slamming the door behind them. They make quick work of the servo-skull and take a quick look around the workshop.
They find shelf upon shelf of orange crystals, much like the Twilight sample Damas gave them.
The door echoes to the clamouring of hands against the metal. There follows a lurch and the train begins to grind away. The group fights their way down the train, encountering a hooded metal figure in the red robes of the Mechanicus. Upon seeing the group it opens fire, las beams scorching the length of the cabin. Despite its best efforts, Rathos uses pulses of energy to hamper the Heretek, allowing the group to chip away until it collapses in the door of the locomotive.
In the final cabin are more workbenches, though a notable lack of Twilight. Wired into the wall of the cabin is a large cogitator terminal, which begins to beep alarmingly in the wake of the Heretek’s demise. Rathos pushes into the locomotive section and manages to uncouple the locomotive from the carriages. Rowarke and Kadis make the jump into the forward section just before it separates and the locomotive speeds off down the track. Seconds later the tunnel is engulfed in a fireball and a concussive wave buffets the locomotive, knocking it off the track.
The toppled locomotive grinds to a halt against the tunnel wall and the Acolytes dust themselves off. The passage behind them has collapsed, preventing any possible pursuit. Safe, for now, they examine the Heretek. Pulling back the robes, they expect to find evidence of flesh, even withered and grey. They find none. This is a being of pure metal. A robot.
XP (300 all, I think, please correct me on that guys)