Tor Megiddo: Oil & Blood, Part 7

The clash at Remorsehold

And the Tribes came on the Scorched Plain. One by one, Tech-wyches and Warleaders greeted the Great Gathering, renewed alligiances and staked their claims on their territories. As tradition dictated, words were heard in peace. Alas, that was not to last. Words were spoken of the ruined Promethean Tower in the Valley of Defilement. The wisests of the Tech-wyches warned of the displeasure of the Rust Men, coming down from the mountains in numbers never before seen. And yet, the Warleaders were deaf to their warnings. Old Lust, bane of Tor Megiddo, reared its head and forbidden weapons were drawn. Blood flew and soon the Scorched Plain rung with the drums of war.

Off the Great Gathering and out to Remorsehold, Great Warfather Arun took the Purebread, there to prepare for the fight. Then engines grawled and the vile Slipgibbets came. Warfather Jax raised the alarm and prepared to reward the mutants in lead. But behold! The Vulture strode out of the wastes and the Purebred halted in awe of such a portent. Only Eshelon the Raider, mercenary outcast, did not bow to the Rust Man. Spurring his horse he squared up to thrice-damned Kastorax and riddled the wretch with bullets. But mutants, like outcasts, have no reverence for the sacred machines of old. The Slipgibbets' fire poured into Remorsehold and the Purebred were cast out into the wastes.