Iron Gods: To the Black

Dear Journal of Ingenious Scientific Consultation and Record 2

Day ??? of my Quest to Destroy the Organization

“It has been a long time since my last recorded notes, dear journal. However, I can greatly assure you that I, the great Alistair Aldini, have not at all deviated from my efforts to thwart the Organization and its lackeys!

It has been quite the odyssey. To summarize the events of the past week or so (I have really lost count, though it hardly matters at this points. My goal is so close!), we fixed the Torch (for which the town of Torch is named) and rescued Mr. Baine and the town of Torch (named after the Torch for which the town of Torch is named) in one fell swoop!

But, the events have only proceeded in further prodigious results! In the town of Torch ( Named after See Above) there is a group of thugs known as the Ropefists. I learned that their leader was a smuggler, and the council wanted us to deal with them. Now, I am a, admittedly, brilliant man, and my ingenious brain was contemplating… ‘If he is a smuggler, he must have plenty of valuable goods that can be of use’. Now, of course.. one could simply buy all the items in his possession, or kill everyone in the warehouse they were located in and take all the goods. But, dear reader (Which is likely me. (If you are not me and reading this, stop reading now, by the way. This is my journal! …Unless I am dead. In that case, it is all for naught. However, this is impossible, because the great Alistair Aldini would not allow himself to die so easily!)) the true scientist is a man of ingenuity, and he uses the variables to observe the outcome he desires.

A true scientist, dear rear (see above), would persuade the smugglers to not only hand over their illicit goods to someone far more trustworthy to use them for a better cause, but they would also join this scientist, because he is the brilliant man he is! So, I hatched a scheme on the spot! I pretended to be a member of the Technic League, as I used to be. I knocked on the door and demanded an answer. When no one did, I announced how the Technic League will have to take its business elsewhere. The leader (and owner of the local gambling hall) immediately opened the door and allowed me in. I played up a good game, had him call all his workers to the front and pretended to examine them. He then began raving on about the artifact while my assistant, Haldir, sneaked into the back. The leader then took me to this artifact, and tried to demonstrate how it worked. Unfortunately for him; I, the brilliant Doctor Aldini, had already disabled a key component. You see, this was a transmitter, and I had disabled the draining component that was transmitting power from the Torch to parts unknown. He mentioned that the purple haired woman who had used it came from the nearby town of Scrapwall, which is a den of gangs and thieves.

Now was my moment to strike. With help from my Assistant, I killed the leader of the Ropefist gang. Then, I stormed out and announced my victory, and that the others would join me or die. So, we are now in command of the Ropefist Gang, along with the gambling hall, the artifact, and the former living quarters of their leader.

We then proceeded to Scrapwall. Through cunning, guile, and my genius and ferocity, we subsequently took command of the Steel Hawks in Scrapwall. Working with the Crimson…somethings (They were ratfolk, I hardly cared that much), we took out the Smilers and the Iron Lords (Or whatever their name was. It was lame.). But the story does not end there. I, Doctor Allistair Aldini..have achieved the impossible… I have slain a god! His name was Hellion, and through some trickery of the cosmos, he had fiendish powers… But now he is dead. Unfortunately, his power did not transfer to me..but this just proves that, while I may be less than a god, I am far more than a mortal man! Haha! (Rest in peace, Zoidberg, you wonderful Chuul Zombie. And hello, Grugtuk, a troll skeleton. I rasied them both with a few scrolls I found off one of the Smilers.)

Also, I found an interesting mutagen from a technological ruin in scrapwall. I plan to have the substance transported en masse to my laboratory by the Ropefist smugglers we have acquired.

After this, we followed Hellion’s journal, which explained the source of his divine power as being…“from the Source”. (For a machine-god, this Hellion seemed incredibly simple-minded.) However, someone named Cassandilee (Or something like that) knew the location. Therefore, we set out to find her, or her remains (since she is very old, apparently) to the town of Whatever in the center of I Don’t Care Because They Worship Erastil. The town is very much a group of luddites. They despise science and technology and reject machines, even if they were sentient. Bloody cultists, the lot of them… If their god had any sense, he would have them all devoured by buzzards, for all they do is sit in their “High Home” smoking whatever euphoric narcotics they’ve grown in their little vegetable gardens while the rest of us deal with the reality of Numeria.

If you have not guessed, dear Journal… I do not particularly care for Erastil.

Regardless, we agreed to go look for a man who turned out to be terrorized by a big scary beast because of “Bad water”. The bad water is, in fact, a mutagen spawned from chemical waste of an underground technological ruin. Within that ruin, we faced members of the Organization as well as discovered that there were androids in the facility.. though damaged and faulty. One of them still believed they were in space, and that their ship was under attack by “The Dominion.” Now, of course.. I am quite cunning…and I persuaded them that the Dominion was the Organization.. So, we now have this android assassin and her ten compatriots working for me, as well. The Technic League won’t know what hit them when my own syndicate has arisen!

I shall need a name for them, in fact.. I shall call them… The Nemesis Syndicate. (I know, it is a fantastic name; the kind that makes one giddy for science and mayhem! Hehe!)

Also, Journal.. I have been working the formulas when my companions are not looking.. You see..I succeeded somewhat with Grugtuk and Zoidberg. The magical method does indeed have ways to restore people from the dead. I would be a fool not to admit it has these powers. However… my goal is to raise my beloved Nora through science.. to prove to the world that magic is not the only answer, and that ordinary men (though Aldini is no ordinary man) can achieve the feats of mages and the like, and that they cannot lord themselves over us! THAT is why Doctor Aeon’s research offends me so, and why he is forever my rival! THAT is why that infernal Jak consistently manages to get under my skin!

I am a man of science, dear journal. My craft is to study the very universe and find ways to use them to to help mankind. Verily, I have used my gifts in the name of revenge, but the destruction of the Technic League is a noble pursuit, and Nora would have wanted it! They will use any tactic they can against me, and I must be prepared to do the same to them. My ultimate goal is restore Nora to life…and then to complete my research. Mankind will be free of disease and affliction. Sickness will no longer claim families or loved ones. Though my efforts may raise the ire of both Pharasma and Urgathoa, I say truly that I will fight and man or god that stands in my way!

I am on the verge of a breakthrough, Journal. Through the partial success of Grugtuk and Zoidberg, proving I can affect state of being of a simple monster.. I intend to use the data I have gathered to make a formula that shall raise a dead man to life! I will show my companions the fruits of my labor at long last.

Soon, Nora. Soon..we shall be together again, and the world will bear witness to our achievements.

Mors inceptio solum est.



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