Session 3 - Mothok and Rex

The team exited the home of their host, Redscale, and saw a troop of Wolf Sons waiting for them.  Each wore a clawed, high tech gauntlet on their right hand.  In the distance, a large, indistinguishable object lumbered slowly down a dirt road toward them.  

In this bizarre place, Phantasm thought to herself, it could be anything.  

The Roughnecks waded into the melee with over twenty of the Wolf Sons.  Redscale and his mate joined in the fray, fighting with curved broadswords.  The Wolves fought with fanatic ferocity.  They snarled at Fenris especially, seeing him as one of their own and a friend to the weaker races.  As the fight continued, the strange object moving down the road became clear… a sight to see.

“What the hell?” Crucible stopped and stared, a bloody canine at his feet.  “Have you guys seen 300?”

That was the only way to describe it.  A huge, mobile platform that rested on the shoulders of slaves.  Each of the wretches looked malnourished and drained of hope.  They wore control collars that barely concealed punishing burn scars.  Atop the huge, ornate dais rode an even stranger sight:  a giant head with tiny limbs, encased in tech armor and bristling with rockets.  It had a ghastly, unnerving smile and imperious demeanor.  

“What have we here?” it bellowed from the platform, "More slaves… more capable slaves to add to my retinue.  Splendid!  I am King MOTHOK, bow and submit and your pain will be marginally less excruciating!”

With that, the odd creature activated its jets and levitated off the platform, firing a sortie of rockets at the Roughnecks.  He laughed and chittered as he sailed clumsily through the air.  

“What kind of asshole has slaves to cart him around when he can fly?” Fenris spat as he rolled from an exploding rocket.  

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“Indeed,” Sabanion said and made a mental note.  Perhaps even the flying demons in hell had not thought of this.  The damned were truly missing out.

“Is that thing MODOK?” Iris asked.

Fenris said, “You’ve seen the SHIELD file?  I hope that’s because you’re an ally of the US.  Either way, I think we’re in some alternate timeline… and universe.”

King Mothok flew through the air, firing rockets and beams of energy from a circlet that encompassed his brutish forehead.  He had an impressive array of weapons: rockets, mental energy beam, and a psychic burst that tugged on the mind of each of the Roughnecks, commanding them to perform his will.  Staying out of melee range, King Mothok was still smashed with fireballs from Crucible, slashed multiple times by a leaping Fenris, and blasted by Agent Iris.  Battered and bleeding, he smiled and fired a wrist ray that opened a portal.  Warbot androids came streaming out.  They had blasters and extendable catch-limbs.  As the Roughnecks smashed their way through the new threat, King Mothok aimed his forehead ray at the slaves which carried his platform.  Three of them glowed with an eerie aura before falling over dead.  Newly regenerated, King Mothok laughed and twirled through the air.

“As long as there are slaves I will be undefeated, fools!  Your lives will run out before my slaves do!”

“VAM-PIRE!!!” Phantasm screamed in rage and frustration at the creature.

She felt helpless here, unable to possess a living host.  Possession of the living gave her access to her magic and strongest powers.  Instead, she telekinetically hurled a heap of smashed warbots at him.  King Mothok laughed as the warbot remnants bounced harmlessly off his energy shield.  

As the Roughnecks continued smashed their way through the warbots, there was a loud crack and the air shimmered.  A purple-green rift tore through the air and Cerebrus Rex emerged with a coterie of robosaurs.  

No one had really believed Redscale and his family when he described the being.  But there he was… a 9 ft., red skinned, power armored Tyrannosaurus Rex.  He had a large, exposed brain that was connected via tubes and wires to the armor’s internal systems.  Cerebrus Rex strode from the rift with his enormous teeth exposed in a sinister grin.  

Cerebrus rex

“It’s like if Tony Stark were a were-tyrannosaur,” Crucible offered.

“No, no.  It’s like an intellect devourer attached to a tyrannosaur and built its own armor,” Fenris countered.  

The robosaurs attacked as Cerebrus Rex pointed.  He surveyed the scene:  fallen Wolf Sons, destroyed warbots, and a number of slaves that King Mothok had slain to sustain himself.  Cerebrus Rex barked to King Mothok in an unknown language with a gravelly, modulated voice.  They both leveled their gauntlets and fired bursts that tore portals through reality.  

Same technology the Wolf Sons used in their escape from the oil rig, Fenris thought.  In a flash, the rifts disappeared and the two tyrants were gone.  The remaining robosaurs retreated, many of them destroyed by Crucible’s fireballs before they could escape.

“Weak,” Sabanion said.  He tossed the severed torso of a struggling warbot into the air and, in a blinding spin, severed its head before it hit the ground.  

Redscale approached.  

“Don’t let this victory fool you,” his voice was earnest in their heads.  “In the small time he was here, he’s constructed a way to destroy you all.  We must strike against him and Mothok soon.  We should consult the elders.”

“Wait,” Phantasm said, “Iris… I’ve lost her.  I cannot reach her psychically.  Where is she?”

The team looked around.  Agent Iris, their reluctant Aussie companion, had disappeared.  Most of the team had been expecting the Gun Nun to show up at any time.  Chaos and destruction seemed to attract her… and it was always her next destination.  This would have been a prime piece of mayhem for her and her old-fashioned, righteous fire-spitting Colt pistols.    

The team's dread increased with every passing hour.  She was the engine of their arrival here on Cimbron and, presumably, their way back.