news spreads slow, through caravan gossip and mercenary scuttlebutt. it might not be true, but seems important if it is: people say one of the old machine gods have been slayed. killed, they say, by a small group of dedicated hackers and desperados. godkillers. sounds ridiculous, sacrilegious.
a young caravan guard claims she travelled with them just a few weeks back. she draws a small crowd with her stories. no one challenges her. the next morning she's gone, but her things are not. turns out, she's just the first of many. people who talk about the godkillers disappear. explanations differ: it's the wrath of the slayed god, it's the other gods, or it's the killers themselves protecting their secrets. no matter the truth, one thing is apparent: any information about the godkillers and their slayed god is dangerous to possess.
someone, something, is moving fast. there is a race on. invested parties are heading towards one of the last known places in the world where it's still possible to interface with the gods; Stråssa...
