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Twitter: https://twitter.com/MolochQM
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Previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Northern%20Beasts%20Quest

“Those who complain about servitude have never felt the burden of leadership.” – Morgana Alkaev, speaking privately.

The herd – that's what your mother calls them sometimes, in a voice heavy with spite, pity and what might even be a faint trace of envy. Mindless animals, born only to work and obey the orders of their betters.

Until recently, you had nothing but scorn for those views, but now you're not so sure. Maddened by panic, fear and desperation, you've seen people rise up as a tide, all too quick to throw aside the civilisation that any man or woman would normally cherish. Just as the blind need someone to guide them through a maze of cruel thorns, so too do the people need guidance in troubled times – lest they turn upon one another and destroy themselves.

There's been enough violence already. The flock needs a shepherd. These high-handed thoughts, though – are they really yours, or is the dragon already whispering in your ear?
>>
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>>579055

By the flickering light of a candle – candles, you recall, are one of the few things that Alyssia doesn't cheap out on – shards of glass actually look quite pretty. They twinkle like jewels, catching the tiny fire and twisting it off into countless rays of light. It's almost pretty enough for you to forget about the blood clinging to the beads of glass, or the fact that they've been lifted from the back of Hyde's skull.

“I'm fine,” he repeats, for what might be the third or fourth time, “It looks bad, I know, but it's just a scratch. Whoever threw that damn bottle wasn't trying very hard.”

Hard enough, you point out as Alyssia plucks another twisted shard of glass out of his scalp. From where you're sitting, you continue, his head looks like a bowl of minced pork.

“Charming,” the Hunter grunts, “You've got a real way with words.”

“You know, I think it more looks like beef,” Alyssia offers, dabbing at the wound with a clean cloth. The act of actually helping someone, rather than mixing up a lethal dose of poison, seems to have settled her nerves at last. At the very least, she can deftly fish bits of glass – some so small that you can barely see them – out of Hyde's scalp. The task, you suspect, would be a lot harder it the man had a full head of hair. “Now stay still, this is going to sting,” the witch adds, taking a new cloth and dipping it in a bowl of clear liquid.

You don't know what it's going to feel like on an open wound, but the smell along stings your nose. Judging by the hiss that escapes Hyde, it's every bit as unpleasant as you imagined it to be.

“Oh, don't be like that,” Alyssia tuts, “It's better than letting your wound go septic, wouldn't you say?”

Look on the bright side, you add, at least she's not rubbing mashed up sea slugs into his head.

Your optimism falls on deaf ears.

-

“I just don't know what happened,” Alyssia explains later, once she's finished patching up Hyde. The Hunter himself broods in the distance and pretends to be okay, an untouched cup of cold tea sitting in front of him. “Things started off fine – a little rowdy, perhaps, but it was all in good spirits. People looked... happy, like they were glad to be thinking about something other than the storm outside.”

“They weren't happy,” Hyde corrects her, “Not really. It was just an act they were putting on. That's what people do, when there's a crisis – they tell themselves that everything is going to be okay.”

“Oh,” her face clouding over, Alyssia stumbles in the act of telling her version of events, “I didn't realise...”

Never mind, you urge her softly, please continue.
>>
>>579058

“Right, well...” Alyssia begins, but soon a new distraction presents itself, “Oh, Hyde, are you sure you're okay? You've not eaten anything for a while.”

“I'm fine, just a little nauseous,” he waves her concern away, “What do you expect? Someone threw a bottle at my bloody head, I'm going to be a little unsteady for a while!”

“You need bed rest,” the witch retorts, “It's not good to strain yourself after an injury, I don't think.”

“Bed rest, fine, are you offering?” a sharp grin touches Hyde's face, and his eyes take on a daring light, “And does that include company?”

This is awful, you think with growing despair, like watching your parents flirt. When you hear a light knock at the door, you eagerly take the chance to leap up and answer it. Even as you scurry away, you hear Alyssia giggling faintly. With a grimace spreading across your face, you open the door and look out into the dark corridors. Perhaps it's because of that grimace, but the man on the other side recoils a little.

“Lord, but you're in a foul temper,” Thomas remarks lightly, “And I even knocked this time!”

Still scowling, you slip out into the corridor and close the door behind you. So, you ask, why is he here?

“I won't bother with fancy words,” the smile fades from Thomas' face, “You're planning something, right? A little bit of a resistance, if you excuse the dramatic term. Well, I want in.”

Does he, now? You give him a hard look for a moment, before a few questions come to mind. Before you agree to anything, you want to know exactly what you're going to be dealing with.

>You want something in return, right?
>What kind of help can you offer?
>How do I know I can trust you?
>I need to be clear on something... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>579064
>Why should I trust you? Not too long ago you were perfectly willing to screw us over by stealing our stuff and now you want to be buddy buddy?

>What kind of help can you offer?
>>
>>579064
>>What kind of help can you offer?
>>How do I know I can trust you?
>>
>>579074
Exactly this. I imagine things might go poorly if we just shoot him down though so it might be a good idea to let him do some insignificant work so he feels useful.
>>
>>579064
>What kind of help can you offer?
>How do I know I can trust you?
>>
>>579074
>>
Why, exactly, should you trust him? Not so long ago, you remind him, he was perfectly happy to screw all of you over by taking your stored supplies. That doesn't exactly give you much incentive to trust him, especially now that he comes proposing friendly relations. Why should you take a chance on him?

“Well,” he swallows, as if he'd been expecting you to accept his offer like the world's most gullible fool, “Would it help if I reminded you that I didn't technically steal anything? Would that ease-”

Not even slightly, you interrupt, now either he gives you a real reason or he can get off your doorstep.

“I see. I suppose I shouldn't have expected this to be easy. One doesn't salt his garden and then expect a fruitful harvest, after all,” Thomas considers the issue for a long moment, “Consider that I'm here, willing to work with you rather than working against you. That, at least, shows a desire to cooperate.”

To cooperate while the arrangement works in his favour, you point out, and not a moment longer. He's an opportunist, and he'd switch sides at the first sign of trouble.

“I won't deny that,” he smiles faintly, “I'm not making a very good case for myself, am I? Well, regardless, I understand that trusting me might seem like a risk. However, it would be very much worth your time, I assure you. At times like these, we can all bring something to the table, hmm?”

Maybe so, you admit, but what kind of help can he offer? Not his thieving, certainly – that could use some work.

“I have some information, and I have the trust of our brave and noble leader,” the scheming man's eyes twinkle, as if he's disgustingly pleased with himself, “Anders, you see, considers me to be another one of his loyal and adoring subjects. Needless to say, I've done my best to nurture that illusion. As such, I can ask certain questions that you might not be able to, not without arousing his suspicion. Ah, and he IS suspicious – you should hear what he said about you, and this little gathering!”

Nothing good, you're certain.

“That all depends on your definition of “good”, I suppose,” Thomas shrugs, “Some might consider being called a “scheming wretch” to be quite the compliment. I don't know what you've done to draw his ire, but Anders seems to have taken it quite personally.”

Some might consider it a compliment, you mutter, but you don't count yourself among their number. In truth, you're not surprised by Anders' suspicions, but having them confirmed isn't exactly good to hear.

[1/2]
>>
>>579111

So was that it, you ask, was that the information he was bartering?

“No, I've got more,” Thomas moves his hands in a fluid gesture, moulding the air before him, “But one must never show too many of their cards at once, wouldn't you say? If we can reach some agreement, I'd be more than happy to share what I know. It's a fair trade, even if it doesn't seem like it right now.”

Which brings you back to your first point, you continue, how do you know you can trust him?

“Because, if there's a conflict brewing here, you're going to win,” the slight irony drops from Thomas' voice, and he meets your gaze, “I'm sure of it, and I consider myself a good judge of these things. I want to be on the winning side, and that's why you can trust me. I'm not about to go and throw in my lot with someone else, only to be seen as a traitor when the dust has settled.”

But, you argue, if you're the winning side already – and you hate that it's come to this, this talk of sides and conflicts – why would you need his help? You might very well be able to come out on top without him, and then you wouldn't need to risk yourself at all.

“Hmm, good point,” his eyebrow raised in genuine surprise, Thomas sounds unexpectedly pleased with this development, “I would argue it from the other side – what do you have to lose?”

What could you possibly have to lose, you repeat aloud, by letting a spy into your midst?

“That's a very inelegant way of putting it,” Thomas complains.

He doesn't, you notice, suggest that it's inaccurate.

>Okay, fine. Let's work together on this
>Sorry Thomas, but I don't work with your kind. We're done here
>Other
>>
>>579122
>>Sorry Thomas, but I don't work with your kind. We're done here
He really did not sell is case to me.
>>
>>579122
>Sorry Thomas, but I don't work with your kind. We're done here
This is the least persuasive dude ever.
henryk pov when
>>
>>579122
>>Sorry Thomas, but I don't work with your kind. We're done here
We don't really need information do we? I don't see him adding anything good to the mix and letting him team up with us just screams bad idea. I do like the idea of leading him on as if we did let him join by having him do small tasks but I don't know how that would work out in this case.
>>
>>579128
>>579122
>Addendum
Maybe drop the 'your kind' bit. Rather not have him do something stupid out of hostile spite.

Instead
>Sorry Thomas, no deal. Just keep your head down, ration your remaining food and you won't have to worry about being on the 'winning side' like most of the people here.
>>
>>579122
>Sorry Thomas, but I'm not planning anything that would require your....services.
>>
He's not exactly making a good case for himself, is he? This information that's dangling over your head – you've got no guarantee that it's even true, or worthwhile. It might just be a pleasant fantasy he's worked up to try and pique your interest, hoping that curiosity will win out over caution.

Sorry Thomas, you tell him, but you're not going to work with him. You're finished here, so if he doesn't mind, you've got other things to focus on.

“Hmm, well, fair enough,” if Thomas is irked by your decision, he hides it well – replying with a faintly rueful shrug and nothing more, “I'll admit, I've not given you many reasons to trust me so far. My mistake, an error of judgement you could say. Very well, as a show of good faith – a little, “no hard feelings” - I'll not breath a word of this to Anders. If he has any reason to cause you problems, it won't have come from me.”

Look, you soften your tone a little, it's not going to come to some great conflict. All he needs to do is keep his head down and ration out his food. All this talk of winning sides is only going to make things worse.

“You really think so?” he asks, surprise once again finding a place in his voice.

You hope so, you correct him, and you're not going to tempt fate. You're not planning on doing anything that might require his kind of services – any scheming or making secret plans.

“Very admirable of you,” Thomas nods deeply, thinking to himself for a moment, “Personally, I'd get bored, but I suppose we can't all think alike. Regardless, I'll bother you no more. I've got my own business to attend to.”

Nothing shady, you hope.

“Oh, writing up a ration plan,” shrugging, he offers you a clear smile, “Lean times ahead, I fear.”

If that was one last attempt at gaining your sympathy, it doesn't pierce your armour. Returning his nod, you turn away from him and head back into Alyssia's apartment. Upon closing the door, you hold your breath and wait a moment. A few seconds of silence draw out, and then you hear footsteps ambling away.

-

“Who was that?” Hyde asks as you return, “At the door, I mean?”

Nobody important, you reply, one of the neighbours swapping gossip about the... mess downstairs. Speaking of that, you add, Alyssia never got to finish telling you about it. She was just getting started, telling you about the good mood – good on the surface, at least. What happened after that?

“Oh, of course,” Alyssia winces a little at her lapse, “Let me just pick up my train of thought...”

It seems to be quite an easily derailed train, you think to yourself.

[1/2]
>>
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>>579170

“Now, before everything went wrong, I saw Anders doing the rounds. He was taking a note of what everyone was buying and selling. Just a matter of keeping track, he said, in case anything needed to be sorted or discussed later,” Alyssia takes a sip of cold tea, and Hyde takes the chance to butt in once more.

“In other words, your landlord has a good idea of who has what... and who needs what. That's a powerful thing, in a situation like ours,” rubbing the back of his injured head, the Hunter can't keep a sour note from creeping into his voice, “I wonder what he'll do with that little list.”

“Anyway,” Alyssia shoots Hyde a polite, but firm, look of warning, “It wasn't long after he finished his rounds that things started to get a little more, I suppose, desperate. Supplies were starting to thin, and prices were creeping up. There was almost a fight at one point, with two men squabbling over an electric flashlight – a flashlight, of all things!”

“We had to step in, Pater and I,” the Hunter adds, “Got them apart before things could get too messy. Still, I can't help but wonder if that was the catalyst for everything to get that much worse. It wasn't long after we broke up that fight that things got really violent – and then, of course, the lights failed. I don't need to explain what happened after that, I'm sure.”

“It was terrifying!” Alyssia stresses the word, “I've never seen anything like it!”

Pacing the length of the darkened room for a moment, you feel a vague sense of futility dropping over you like a shroud. Sitting here and waiting for the storm to pass... it makes you feel so helpless, so useless. It's enough to make you wonder – what if you're just falling prey to paranoia, imagining conspiracies and plots as a way of filling the empty hours? Delusions can spread quickly in these tight confines and tense moments, and it doesn't take long for real plots to spring forth.

“So that's what happened,” Alyssia's voice pulls you back to the present moment, “Um, but I might have missed something out. Things are a little blurry. Did you need to ask anything? For clarification, I mean.”

>That's fine, I've heard enough
>Did you see who threw that bottle at Hyde?
>Hyde, what were your people doing during all this?
>I'll be honest – do you think Anders had anything to do with this?
>I did have a question... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>579195
>Did you see who threw that bottle at Hyde?
>Hyde, what were your people doing during all this?
>Was that a full or empty bottle?
>Who was selling or bying something bottled?
>Was there anyone drunk?
>>
>>579195
>Did you see who threw that bottle at Hyde?
>Hyde, what were your people doing during all this?
>I'll be honest – do you think Anders had anything to do with this?
"I didn't see him before the lights went out and his little show with keeping order is a good way to solidify his leadership position."
>>
>>579195
>>Hyde, what were your people doing during all this?
>>Was that a full or empty bottle?
>>Who was selling or bying something bottled?
>>Was there anyone drunk?
>>I'll be honest – do you think Anders had anything to do with this?
"I didn't see him before the lights went out and his little show with keeping order is a good way to solidify his leadership position."
>>
>>579195
>Did you see who threw that bottle at Hyde?
it wasn't Anders, was it? 1 canned sardines it was Thomas.
>Why did it become so desperate? Can you remember anything just before it? Someone stealing supplies, making them run out faster than everyone expected?
my gut feeling is that Thomas is playing adding oil to the conflict to get into a position that's trusted by both. I don't think Anders is smart enough to make shows like this alone.
>>
>>579213
Thomas was right next to us when the bottle was thrown.
>>
>>579218
oh, right. I guess that's not likely then. Still, Anders didn't seem the throwing type, and he'd have to be getting in position for the gunshot.
>>
>>579223
To be honest I think Anders is a red herring out of character, but I gotta ask all the questions in character.
>>
Hey, you ask Alyssia, did she happen to see who threw that bottle at Hyde?

“Well, I was keeping my head down...” she begins in an uncertain, tentative voice, “So, well, no. I didn't see anything. It was pretty hard to make out individual faces in the dark like that, anyway – my eyes hadn't adjusted yet. Not much help, I know, but... oh!” Her face lights up suddenly. “There was one thing I noticed,” she continues, “Or rather, something I didn't notice. Nobody else was throwing anything – it was just one single bottle, and it was aimed right at Hyde.”

“I must have made myself a fair target,” the Hunter adds, “Standing up like that. Stupid move, really - I never was very happy being at the centre of attention.”

“Oh shush,” Alyssia punches him lightly on the arm, “It was very brave, what you did.”

Clearing your throat loudly, before they can get distracted again, you ask the first question that crosses your mind – anything to stop them from losing focus. The bottle, you ask Hyde, was it full or empty?

“Empty,” he replies, “And a good thing too. A full bottle can make a pretty nasty weapon, and it might have left me with more than a few cuts. Either I got lucky, and they grabbed one without looking, or my attacker wasn't aiming for any serious damage.”

Interesting, you think to yourself, the pieces are starting to come together. Someone targeted Hyde specifically, but they weren't trying to kill him – just to knock him out. It's a working theory, at least, one that you need to refine further. Did either of them see anyone selling bottles, you ask, or buying anything in a glass bottle?

“I was stuck at my stall, so...” Alyssia shrugs, while Hyde thinks on the issue for a while longer.

“It's possible that I missed something, but I didn't see anyone trading glass bottles,” Hyde frowns, shaking his head in frustration, “But I can ask my people, they might have seen something I didn't. There's only so much you can see with two eyes, after all.”

Speaking of his people, you ask, where were they during all this?

“Pater and Hilde were with me, mostly. We were supposed to be handling security – nobody called it that, but we all knew what we were there for,” he grimaces faintly, “Katrina wouldn't have been worth much, in terms of security – she weighs about as much as a sack of wet leaves – but she was helping to keep track of the trading. She has a shop of her own, back in real life, so she knows about that sort of thing. If you want to ask them anything, I think they're down in the lobby. Helping to clean things up, probably.”

Sounds like hard work, you offer.

“They're good people,” Hyde's expression softens, almost becoming a smile.

[1/2]
>>
>>579253
I think I have my OTP.
>>
>>579253

Despite the smile that touches his bearded face, Hyde soon lapses into a solemn silence – one that you fill with your next question. Was anyone drinking, you ask, anyone drunk?

“Drunk? Let me think...” Hyde squints as he thinks back, the brief smile vanishing from his face, “I can't be certain, but one of those men I dealt with – one half of that senseless fight – might have been drunk. He just seemed too... stubborn and senseless to have been sober. Even in these desperate times, people are given to backing down from a pointless fight. Once he was away from his rival, I asked Hilde to keep an eye on him. Unless she lost him in the struggle that followed, I don't think he would have had the chance to throw anything... except maybe throwing up later.”

Laughing a little, a bitter laugh, you shake your head at his attempt at a joke. You're going to be honest here, you tell both of them, does either of them think Anders had anything to do with it? You didn't see him before the lights went out, and that show he put on was a good way of solidifying his hold on leadership.

“Honestly? I don't know for sure,” Alyssia sighs, “I don't want to believe that he planned this – that he arranged for any of this – but I can't rule it out either.”

“It makes a certain sense,” Hyde offers darkly, “He was the one to asked us to “keep an eye on things” - his words. In the event of a riot, we would have been the ones to try and restore order. In other words, he'd have good reason to expect me to stand up and paint a target on my back. I don't know him well enough to say if he's capable of that, but on first impressions? Sure, I think it's possible. It seems like a lot of trouble, though, just to make himself feel important.”

The mood turns bleak, as all three of you turn inwards to consider the situation. No matter what you said to Thomas, what optimism you had then, it seems like schemes and dirty dealings are the order of the day. Senseless schemes and plays for power, based around... what, ego and pride?

When did everything get so desperate, you ask aloud, was there a single act that set it all off? Could someone have been stealing supplies, making them seem scarcer than they were? You weren't necessarily expecting an answer, but Alyssia speaks up.

“There did seem to be a... shift. A change in mood,” she offers, “After that little fight, people changed. They stopped chatting and started whispering. There were rumours spreading quickly – gossip about all manner of things. Food shortages, mainly. Nothing concrete, but enough to get people afraid.”

And someone, you think, would have needed to start those rumours.

[2/3]
>>
>>579319

After that, you exchange nothing more than paltry small talk with Alyssia and Hyde, the conversation drifting away to other things. In truth, you already wanted to be elsewhere – down in the lobby, perhaps, checking up with Hyde's people. You're not sure how much they'd be able to add to the discussion, but you need to gather as much information as you can. Once you've made your excuses, you set off downstairs to find the other three guests.

If nothing else, it gives you something to do. Playing detective is just one more way of passing the time.

-

The lobby almost looks as though the riot never happened, as if it had all been a fever dream. The only sign of damage is in the ceiling, where Anders fired that single gunshot to call everyone to order. Pater and Hilde worked hard, and now they're sitting silently on the stairs – too tired to do much more than wave to you. They've been through a lot, and you fear that their ordeal might not be over yet.

Katrina, you notice, is sitting apart from the group. Taking one of the folding chairs, she has placed it by one of the barred windows to keep up a lonesome vigil. Pater and Hilde slide apart as you approach them, and you sit down between them. It's like having a great tree on either side of you, comforting rather than intimidating.

“Hyde got his head fixed up, then?” Pater asks, “Say, did you manage to find his brain while you were at it?”

“Don't bother the girl with lost causes,” Hilde scolds, “That doctor lady isn't a miracle worker, after all.”

The three of you share a warm laugh, and the fleeting moment of comfort it has to offer you. Then, as the laughter fades, you get down to business.

>Hilde, I heard you dealt with a drunk. Did he throw that bottle?
>What's wrong with Katrina?
>Mind telling me a little about yourselves?
>I had a question to ask you... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>579370
>Hilde, I heard you dealt with a drunk. Did he throw that bottle?
>What's wrong with Katrina?
>Mind telling me a little about yourselves?
>>
>>579370
>Hilde, I heard you dealt with a drunk. Did he throw that bottle?
>What's wrong with Katrina?
"Is she still keeping an eye out for that beast?"

>Mind telling me a little about yourselves?
>>
>>579370
>>Hilde, I heard you dealt with a drunk. Did he throw that bottle?
>>Mind telling me a little about yourselves?
>>
>>579370
>Hilde, I heard you dealt with a drunk. Did he throw that bottle?
>What's wrong with Katrina?
>Mind telling me a little about yourselves?
>Did you see anyone selling or buying anything in bottles?
>>
Hyde said she dealt with a drunk guy, you ask Hilde, does she know if he was the one to throw that bottle? He's a likely suspect, if he was able to get away from her during the riot.

“I thought the same thing myself, that he might get up to a bit of trouble if he had the chance to wander,” Hilde scratches her heavy jaw as she thinks, “So I grabbed him real tight when things started to get rough. Wouldn't be the first time someone takes advantage of a mess like that to settle a score after all.”

So he didn't throw it, you ask with a sinking feeling in your gut, he didn't have the chance to throw anything?

“Not even a punch. I had him pinned good and proper when the bottle was thrown,” the brawny woman shakes her head, “I know kid, he would have made a prime suspect, but I can vouch for him. Stupid bastard, getting leathered at a time like this, but it ain't a crime. Hey, at least it's one name crossed off your list of suspects, right?”

“Did you even get his name?” Pater asks, “All I heard you calling him was “stupid bastard” or “you bloody fool”. The usual sorts of names.”

Seems like they know each other pretty well, you remark as you swallow your disappointment, would they mind telling you a little about themselves?

“There's not much to tell, really,” Pater shrugs, “We live close by, so it's only natural that we see each other regularly. People get to know one another. Anyway, I work in a warehouse – dull work, just lifting and carrying heavy boxes. Not exactly the kind of thing that strains a guy's mind, but it's damn good exercise. It would sure put some weight on those arms of yours!”

You glance at his muscular arms and grimace faintly. Not really your kind of look at all. Hilde is equally built, and you have little surprise at the thought of her wrestling a drunkard. When you mention as much, she barks out a booming laugh – loud enough that Katrina, in the distance, flinches.

“Well, it's my job. Sweet little tavern, just around the corner from Pater's warehouse. He carries boxes, and I throw out rowdy drunks. I never thought it would make for useful training,” she chuckles again, warmed by the thoughts of her normal life, “It's like Pater said, though, there's really not much to say about us. What you see here is basically what you get. We're not like...” she trails off, glancing across to Katrina.

What's wrong with her, you ask, is she still looking out for that beast?

“What's wrong with her?” Hilde snorts, “What's right with her might be the better question, if you catch my meaning.”

You're... not sure that you do.

[1/2]
>>
>>579055
Pretty sure it was anders that threw the bottle last thread
>>
>>579440

“She's not one of us,” Hilde spits, with a surprising amount of venom in her voice, “She lives there, and she has her little shop there, but that doesn't mean anything. Pater and I, we're tight – everyone was, and whoever survived will still be tight when all this is over – but she's different. Holds herself above us all.”

“What Hilde means to say is, we move in different circles,” Pater tries to explain, “So there's some, hmm, I suppose you'd say resentment there. She's not helping, though – she's barely lifted a finger to help since coming here. We've cleaned and helped with safety and security, but she's done nothing to earn her keep.”

Hence the hostility, you think aloud, interesting.

“Anyway, I don't know if she's watching for beasts or whatever,” Hilde seemingly dismisses the issue with a heavy shrug, “That girl jumps at her own shadow, though, so I wager we'll hear her scream at the first sign of any trouble – real or imagined. Have a word with her, if you like, but I wouldn't expect much from her. Lord knows, I don't.”

You might speak with her later, you decide, but you did have another question. Did either of them see anyone buying or selling bottled goods, you ask, like the bottle that got thrown at Hyde?

“Nope,” shaking her head, Hilde gives you a flat denial, “Didn't see a-”

“It wasn't buying or selling,” Pater interrupts, his eyes turning sharp as realisation dawns, “But I did see someone WITH a glass bottle. You know how Anders was doing the rounds earlier, correct? Well, I saw him taking a little break for refreshments, if you catch my drift. He ducked out of sight for a moment, took out a little bottle of whiskey – a glass bottle, with just a little left in it – and drained it dry. He set the empty bottle down and went about his business. He didn't seem drunk at all, mind – I wager he's used to a spot of hard drinking.”

So. The only glass bottle on the scene was brought by Anders and carelessly left where anyone could stumble across it. A mistake that anyone could make, given the circumstances... or a very deliberate step in a greater plan.

Time to hear what Katrina has to say, you decide. Will they be here, you ask, in case you have any other questions?

“Nah, we'll be long gone,” Pater gives you a weary smile, “We were going to take a nice stroll outside. It's the right weather for it, wouldn't you say?”

“Aye, that's right,” Hilde agrees, “The sun is shining, the birds are singing... what more could folks like us want?”

They're not being entirely sincere about this. You can tell.

[2/3]
>>
>>579493

Waving at them as you part company – for now, at least – you stroll across the lobby to speak with Katrina. Your footsteps are far from muffled, but she doesn't seem to notice you. Her eyes are fixed on the world outside, as if a forlorn gaze could blow away the storms, if only she kept it up for long enough. There's something strangely childish about the way she kicks her heels against the chair's legs. If the chair had been tall enough, you have little doubt that she'd be waving her feet through the empty air instead.

A nervous habit, probably. Katrina looks like the type who has a great many nervous habits.

Standing beside her for a moment, you wait for her to turn around and greet you, or even just to acknowledge your presence. When she doesn't, and instead just keeps up her vacuous silence, a sense of frustrated outrage behinds to swell within you. Forcing down the urge to kick the chair out from under her, you settle for clearing your throat.

Jolting upright and stifling a faint scream, Katrina twists around with a fleeting expression of blind panic on her face. When she recognises you, it clears like morning mist – leaving her with what you assume to be her normal expression, a pale and worried mask.

“Hello,” she speaks in a tight voice, as if trying very hard not to stutter, “We've not spoken much, have we? My name is Katrina.”

Eliza, you reply. So...

“These storms really are awful, aren't they?” she presses on, almost as if you'd never spoken, “Awful, really very awful...”

Some people, you've read, talk a lot to stop themselves from thinking – usually about something specific. If you're any judge, then you'd say she's hiding something – from herself, as much as everyone else

>Seen any beasts out there?
>You seemed kinda lonely over here. Mind if we talk a little?
>What can you tell me about that riot we had?
>Is something bothering you? You can tell me, Katrina
>I had something to ask you... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>579541
>You seemed kinda lonely over here. Mind if we talk a little?

Then after a bit of that
>Is something bothering you? You can tell me, Katrina
>What can you tell me about that riot we had?
>>
>>579541
>>You seemed kinda lonely over here. Mind if we talk a little?
>Is something bothering you? You can tell me, Katrina
She's super jumpy, probably smart to take it nice and slow like >>579547 said.
>>
>>579547
supporting
>>
>>579541
>You seemed kinda lonely over here. Mind if we talk a little?
>>What can you tell me about that riot we had?
>>Is something bothering you? You can tell me, Katrina
>>
>>579541
>>Seen any beasts out there?
I think we need to take it slow if we're gonna get something she's trying hard herself to forget out of her.
>>
She seemed kinda lonely over here, you begin calmly, does she mind if you talk for a little?

“No, no I don't mind,” Katrina shakes her head, pale yellow hair flopping back and forth as she does so, “But I'm not lonely! I'm used to being on my own, so it's really no hardship to me. You might even say that I'm happier this way, not mixing too much with the others. I do feel a little bad, though...”

Really, you ask, why does she-

“They're all trying their best,” she continues, before you can so much as finish your question, “Working hard, and making themselves useful. I'm really no use at all in a situation like this – I only made it out in the first place because I'm a fast runner! I don't even have much sense for what to do in an emergency. My shop – I had a little shop before all this, it's probably being looted as we speak – had some food still left on the shelves when we had to run away. I, ah... I closed up early, before the storms hit, and...”

She trails off, and you try to picture the scene in your mind. Faced with a possible food shortage, she closed her doors and kept her food supplies to herself. No wonder there's some bad blood there, you think to yourself.

“It's a little funny, now I think about it,” Katrina lets out a shrill little laugh, “All that food, and do you want to see what I grabbed before running?” Casting a fearful glance about her, she unbuttons her coat and takes a wad of cash from an inner pocket. Not a small amount of money either, a fair sum. “Pretty stupid, huh?”

That outburst finally wears her out, and she slumps her shoulders a little as silence descends over the pair of you. It certainly was a stupid move, you think to yourself, and one that says much about her priorities. It's strange, in a way – she comes from some of the lowest parts of society while your family comes from the highest... but she's not so different from many of the nobles you've met. At the first sign of trouble, they'd go scurrying for their jewels and family heirlooms as well, leaving behind food or anything of real value. Strange how that works.

“Anyway, enough about me!” Katrina seems more than eager to move on, and you don't really blame her, “You seem like a clever girl, I've never met someone your age with the same... authority to them.”

You accept her compliment with a weak smile. It's not your authority she's sensing, you think, but that belonging to something far older. This time, you're the one to change the subject. So, you ask with a nod towards the window, seen any beasts?

Her lips drawing back into a thin line, Katrina gives a single, stiff nod.

[1/2]
>>
>>579656

“They crawl about like spiders,” she whispers, “But they never try to get in. Sometimes they stop and stare, though – like they want to get in, like they know we're in here. I don't know why, but they always move on. Maybe it's because we burned Dan's body. You... you did burn it, didn't you?”

To ashes, you assure her, the beasts won't be able to smell that. Even as you say that, though, you have to wonder if these beasts she's seen were really there. Her eyes have the look of one gone long without sleep, and the nervous mind can play tricks. Oblivious to your doubts, Katrina keeps talking.

“Oh, that's a relief,” slumping back in her chair, Katrina sighs, “I hate them, you know. Beasts, I mean, not... anything else. Not an uncommon view, as I understand it, but still. The thought that they might be lurking beneath our foot, in every shadow... sometimes, I can barely dare step outside! Do you mind if we talk about something... else?”

You don't mind, you tell her. That riot was really something, you add a moment later, anything she can tell you about it? Her perspectives, that kind of thing.

“Oh, it was a mistake from the start. Expecting fair and calm trade at a time like this was always a futile hope,” her voice almost calms as she says this, a mournful look touching her face, “Admirable, I will admit, but too optimistic by far. Even so, I did my best to advise everyone on pricing and fair exchange rates – ugh, we were bartering like barbarians! Really, is it any wonder that things went so badly wrong?”

Okay, you reply slowly, but you didn't ask about the swap meet. You asked about the riot itself.

“I didn't see anything, if that's what you're asking. I... I got to safety as soon as I could. What was I supposed to do, in the face of all that chaos? It's too bad that Hyde got hurt though,” Katrina winces, as if she had been the one to get hurt in his place, “Head injuries like that can be so bad. My uncle hit his head on a shelf once. We all laughed and called him clumsy, but he dropped dead three days later!”

Again, that evasive rambling, her speech skittering away whenever it gets too close to anything she doesn't like to think about. Lowering your voice and giving her a friendly smile, you decide to apply a little pressure. Is there something bothering her, you ask kindly, anything at all? She can talk to you, really.

She wavers for a moment, a thin tongue slipping out to wet her lips. She seems to be struggling to make up her mind, torn and indecisive.

>Calling for a Diplomacy check. That's just 1D100, aiming to beat 60/80. I'll take the highest of the first three results!
>>
Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>579690
Here we go.
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>579690
>>
Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>579690
>>
>>579706
Off by 1.

Everyone look under your couch for a +1 modifier.
>>
>>579722
We could turn to our ancestral memory for help?
>>
>>579740
I feel like that would just make us call her a Pleb or something.
>>
>>579740
Actually, yeah. Do that.
>>
>>579740
>>579750
That'll probably just up as
>"Answer me pathetic human! Uh, please?"
>>
It's not all that different from picking a lock really, you think to yourself, it's just a matter of applying the right pressure at the right time. You're not dealing with tiny springs and bits of metal, of course, you're dealing with Katrina's mind – something far more fragile, you think with a sly smile – but the principle is no different.

Then you remember that you're reducing a human being to nothing more than a mechanism, one barring your way to getting what you want, and you feel a flash of guilt. Not enough to stop you, mind, just enough that you'll feel bad about it later.

It's fine if she doesn't want to talk, you reassure her softly, you're going to pry the answers out of her or anything. It's just... even if she isn't lonely, it can be nice to share worries sometimes. Whenever you're fretting over something, you can talk it over with your brother. Even when he doesn't have an answer to give you, just talking about it makes you feel better.

“Hyde...” Katrina murmurs, a faint crack appearing in her defences.

She's worried about him? You're worried too, you add, but he's being well taken care of. He'll recover, though he might have a few nasty scars.

“No, I mean... I mean, I AM worried about him,” Katrina fumbles for the right words to use, “I'm worried that he'll take on too much responsibility. He's not... a natural leader. Not the kind of leader we need now, I should say. If we all Hunters, chasing some terrible beast, then he's the kind of man I'd want in charge... but we're not. He's got scared civilians to deal with, and he doesn't know the first thing about supplies, logistics, rationing. I'm very grateful for all that he's done – I owe him my life, even – but I don't...”

She doesn't think he has what it takes to be the leader of this little community?

“I don't mean it as an insult!” Katrina stresses, a rush of desperate worry reaching her eyes, “We all have our own place in life, and... and his isn't... this.”

The awkward confession leaves Katrina looking flustered and close to panic, her eyes lively with fear and something that comes perversely close to thrill. There's something else there, something she's holding back, and you feel the urge to drag the truth out of her. Standing there, by her side, you feel a strange chill in your blood, and somewhere in the back of your mind, something ancient and terrible begins to stir.

It's not a matter of control – the dragon is waking, and you can't do a damn thing about it. What you can do, though, is leave. Take yourself away into seclusion and wait for it to sink back into sleep. Safer that way, you suspect.

But you ache to let it loose.

>Let the dragon have its way
>Retreat, before something bad happens
>Other
>>
>>579808
>>Let the dragon have its way
I want it. 'Sides maybe resisting it will just have some bad side effects like going nuts. Maybe if we accept the dragon he'll be our friend and help us out.
>>
>>579808
>Retreat, before something bad happens
She's jumpy enough as it is. We don't need more problems on our plate.
>>
>>579808
>Retreat, before something bad happens
Go back to our room *then* let it out. We need to learn to harness this to our will instead of the other way around.
>>
>>579808
>Retreat, before something bad happens

At least offer a goodbye to her, though.
>>
>>579808
>Let the dragon have its way
Let's do it!
>>
>>579808
>Other
Face the dragon and ride it!
>>
You've denied yourself so much – your family name, and everything that it entitles you to. Wealth, land, property... all things that you've chosen to walk away from. Your blood, and the terrible power that still defies understanding, is just one more thing to add to that list. Letting it slip now would be an error of judgement, a lapse in discipline and a disappointing failure. Katrina has not yet earned its ire.

Mumbling a goodbye to her, hearing your strangled voice as if someone else had spoken, you turn and walk away from her. A muttered excuse follows, something about checking on Hyde, but the details are bland and fleeting. Before disaster can strike, you sweep away up the stairs and back in the direction of Henryk's apartment. Privacy is what you need right now, the chance to let this unknowable influence out in a safe, controlled way.

Hilde and Pater stare at you as you pass them by, pausing in their mindless babbling as if struck dumb by the sight of one of their betters.

Was that your thought, or was it the dragon that spoke?

-

When you reach Henryk's apartment, you have to lean heavily against the door for a moment to catch your breath, a faint metallic taste clinging to the back of your throat. What started as a chill has become a painful heat, as though the blood had started to boil within your veins. Turning your hands over, you see red crescents bitten into the palms, cut by your own nails. Then, for a moment, you see archaic plate armour instead of soft, young skin. The delusion only lasts a moment, but that's a moment too long.

Fumbling your key into the lock, you let yourself in and slam the door behind you. Dragging in another rasping breath, you try to force a measure of control over yourself. You need something, anything, to focus on. Something to ground yourself, something to tie yourself back to reality and the present day.

Your eyes fall upon a hunting knife, and it's in your hands before you quite know it. The weight feels perfectly natural, and your posture instinctively – but not following any of your instincts – drops lower into a fighting stance. In the blackness of the unlit apartment, with storms howling outside, you start to run through the steps of a knife fighting routine – like one of the dances your mother tried to teach you, only far more elegant.

What started as a knife fight with an imagined opponent becomes a duel, achingly formal and carried out with long, slender swords. Then it becomes something else, something that is more real and visceral than any duel or scripted fight. With your lips drawn back in an exhilarated grin, you let yourself get swept up in the scene playing out within your mind.

Memories flow like spilled blood as the dragon plays its little game.

[1/2]
>>
>>579837
>>579848
>>579853

We could always try a write in based on what she's revealed so far.

Maybe tell her that nobody here is really prepared to lead by themselves. So we all need to do what we can.

And that we know she might not think she can do much, but every little bit helps. She was helping during the bartering quite a bit after all, and if she has some advice we are willing to hear her out with an open mind.

Even if it's something we might not want to hear, we won't hold it against her. Better to have any concerns out where we can deal with them instead of letting them fester unseen - like her uncles head wound, or the beasts skulking below.
>>
>>579920
Every.

Fucking.

Time.
>>
>>579920
Maybe if we were in a more calm state of mind, not when some crazy shit in our blood is itching to get some fresh air and yell at people or something.
>>
I feel we should try to learn to control this and let it out, but only in front of someone who can rein us in.

So basically only Henryk.
>>
>>579917

The feeling of hewing through flesh and bone still clings to your aching muscles as you rise out of your trance. With a shaking hand, you fumble for matches and light a candle, squinting against the sudden flare of light. For one brief moment, you were a true dragon, and your body still sings with the thrill of it all. Combat – real, life or death combat – is more exciting than you could have ever imagined. Ifox, the Knight that bore your family name, was a true master of the killing art, and you still remember the way his blade had cut through...

Through people. Humans. Men and women.

Moving so quickly that you almost trip and fall over your own damn feet, you stumble through to the bathroom and drop to your knees. Gripping the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl, you throw up until there's nothing left inside of you, until you feel as though you're about to pass out.

So much for saving food, you say aloud in the empty bathroom - then you laugh deliriously for what seems like a very long time.

-

Later, when you're calm, you flush the toilet and lurch back through to the couch, slumping down to catch your breath. It was too easy to get swept up in things, to forget yourself and become something – someone – else. In time, perhaps you'll be able to achieve some measure of control over this, but for now... this is too much for you. Lying on the couch, you try to think of something else, and you find your thoughts returning to the riot. The answers are still out of reach, some of the pieces are still missing.

You'll have to do something about that. Where, though, to start?

>Speak with Alyssia and Hyde
>Speak with Pater and Hilde
>Speak with Katrina
>Speak with Anders
>Other
>>
>>579985
>Speak with Anders
>>
>>579985
>>Speak with Alyssia and Hyde
Talk to them about our conversation with the three downstairs. I considered talking with Anders but it's probably better to assume that he doesn't think anything is wrong and us snooping might toss more suspicion on us.
>>
>>579985
>Speak with Anders
For the start, ask about when electricity will be restored, then lead to what happened to it and from there to the riot.
>>
>>579985
>Speak with Anders

If the dragon wants to rear it's head again this is the guy we use it against, he might think he's leadership material but he is just a poor imitation and if we have to remind him of that then so be it

Is the dragon one of our great beasts latching on to her? Are we going to have to kill her?
>>
>>579985
>Speak with Katrina

Shank one nigga twice.
>>
>>580010
No, all dragon blooded suffer this way
>>
Shuddering, you rub a cool hand across your face, wincing as you remember the cuts in your palm. Fortunately, the water is still flowing, and a wet cloth takes care of the smears of blood that marred your features. You actually feel a faint regret as you wash them off – they gave you a rather fierce look, one that you sort of liked.

There's a time and a place for fierce, and this isn't it. The damp cloth serves to cool your thoughts, and soon you feel ready to interact with another human being without any... unpleasantness. You're not sure how long that'll last, though, once you start speaking with Anders. He was a way of bringing out the worst in people, you've found.

If that's the case, he should be worried. Your worst is starting to become very bad indeed.

-

Passing Pater and Hilde on the stairs, you offer them a shaky smile, something that attempts to put their minds at ease. You can't say how well it succeeds at that, because you don't stick around to find out. You don't want to get delayed here, even if their brand of idle chatter is the kind of comfort that some part of you yearns for. Hilde, in particular, reminds you of a more violent Margot, with all the nostalgic charm that the idea invokes in you.

Later, perhaps, once you can allow yourself to relax.

You pass Katrina by as well, but you have to think for a moment before deciding to do so. You're certain that there are things she hasn't told you, and you'd like to learn the rest of her secrets, but she might need a little time to settle herself. In either case, she doesn't look like she'll be going anywhere in a hurry – the storm still has her hypnotised, her attention stolen away by whirling snow and phantom beasts.

She looks happier that way, her mind focussed on not thinking.

-

Anders answers his door not long after your first knock, and his glare makes it clear that you're not welcome. Still, he doesn't throw you out, and when you follow him back into his private quarters, he makes no show of protest.

“Power's still out,” he grunts, “But you probably noticed that.”

You did notice that, you agree.

“I'll let you in on a little secret,” the landlord continues, “It's not the city – it's us, our building, that's lost power. Folks next door, they've got power. Might be, you noticed that?”

You had noticed, you tell him, yes. Is there a reason for this, or is it just a very selective power cut?

“Funny. This is an old building, girl, and it loses power sometimes, especially in bad weather,” he flaps a hand back towards... something, “Not sure if I can fix it. Something seems to have burned out or broken. Normally, I'd get an expert in, but...”

>Why keep it a secret?
>And you had nothing at all to do with this?
>That was some riot we had earlier. What did you make of it?
>I had a question for you... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>580110
>>That was some riot we had earlier. What did you make of it?
No need to toss accusations in his face and the first question is pretty obvious.
>>
>>580110
>>Why keep it a secret?
>>Because it hasn't worked, people have noticed that we're the only building without power.
>>There was talk that you were responsible for it, as the building manager. I told them that you would be fixing it, and I'm glad to see I was right.

Agree and put him on the defensive.
>>
>>580110
>Why keep it a secret?
>Where's the fuse box? Can't hurt to take a look unless it's outside.

>That was some riot we had earlier. What did you make of it?
>>
>>580132
Seconding
>>
>>580126
>>580110
I'll change mine to support >>580132
>>
>Sorry this next post is taking so long, I hit kind of a block writing it. Shouldn't be too long now, I hope!
>>
>>580288
No problem, take your time.
>>
You've seen all too well what his kind of “expert” is – one who works for the lowest price, and offers results to match – but you decide against rubbing salt into that particular wound. That's an argument for another time, and you've got bigger fish to fry.

Why keep it a secret, you ask innocently, this power business?

“I wager you think I had some ulterior motive for it,” Anders grimaces at you, “Like I had some profit in taking away the power. You think I like eating cold food out of a can? You think I like having to burn my bloody fingers on shitty, stinking tallow candles? I'm trying to keep everyone peaceful and happy – as happy as it's possible to be, in this mess – and you think this loss of power makes my job easier?”

Floundering for a moment longer, stunned by his outburst, you finally manage for form words. So he doesn't have an ulterior motive, you admit, but that doesn't tell you why he's keeping it a secret. Surely other people have noticed by now?

“Only one, that smug ass... Mercer, was it?” the landlord shakes his head, “He came asking the same questions you're asking, not long after that chaos. Other folks, either they've not noticed or they've not said a word. I'd rather keep it that way. What happens when folks start to get an eagerness for electrical power, and start looking next door for it? Might be, they'd up and leave – and I hear there are beasts prowling in the street. Dangerous work, going out now, even for a moment.”

Thomas, you think with a silent curse. Was this what he had to tell you, you wonder, that he'd been making his own inquiries? Grimacing, you look away from Anders, and he lets out a short laugh.

“So now you know as well. Big deal,” he waves an indifferent hand, “But don't go casting blame where it isn't wanted.”

Rallying quickly, you try and turn your mind to more practical matters. Where's the fuse box, you ask, is it outside? It can't hurt to take a look, can it?

“A brat like you won't have the first idea what you're looking at,” he snorts, before turning and stalking off into his quarters and throwing open a closet door. When the door opens, you're assaulted by the stink of burning metal, acrid and smoky. “Take a look,” Anders continues, opening a smaller box to reveal a tangled mess of blackened... stuff.

You've got to admit, he's right – you don't have the slightest idea what you're looking at, other than total desolation. Perhaps something of your confusion shows on your face, because Anders laughs aloud.

[1/2]
>>
>>580341

“Sit down,” he tells you – no, he orders you – once his laughter has subsided, “Sit down, and we can talk properly.”

Infuriated by the presumption in his voice, the assumption that you WILL obey him, you almost find yourself wishing for the dragon to stir once more. This is a target worthy of its ire, and yet it sleeps peacefully within your heart. Cursing silently, you slip into the seat Anders waves at and wait to see what he has to say.

“I'm worried,” he begins, the frank honesty in his voice taking you by surprise, “And I'm willing to pass off your loud mouth as worry as well. That's why I want you to understand something – and to understand it well.”

This entire conversation isn't going how you planned, or expected it to go. Regardless, you find yourself nodding for him to continue.

“I'm glad to have a Hunter here, I won't lie about that, but I'm worried about what might have followed him – or what folks might have thought followed him. Hunters bring fear, as much as they bring comfort,” Anders sits opposite you, and pours a measure of some dark alcohol into a dirty glass, “Folks have been on edge since he came. Maybe it's his doing, maybe it's just being inside all this time. Don't rightly know. My business is to keep the peace here, that's all.”

He's not doing a very good job of it, you can't stop yourself from saying, what with the riot and all.

“There's that loud mouth again,” he snarls, but there's only a token hostility in it, “As I recall, I was the one that brought the mob to heel. Had to put a hole in a perfectly good ceiling to do it, but I managed to settle things.”

You'll admit that he's right there. What about the riot, you ask, what did he make of it?

“Frightened people, looking for cause to lash out,” Anders rubs a hand across his unshaven jowls, and you see that it is trembling, “Scared the shit out of me, I won't deny it. You saw what happened to the Hunter, I suppose. Could have happened to anyone who stuck his head above the parapet. Bad business all round.”

So, you ask, what's with the sudden openness? It's not like him to have a frank discussion like this, as though you were equals.

“Might be, it's time we put our differences aside and worked together,” Anders reluctantly suggests, “Might be, keeping everyone peaceful is too much work for one man. If we all pitch in, we might make it through this. What do you say? How about we all get around a table and talk this out?”

>Alright, I think we can work together
>I'll take this to the others, see what they have to say
>No need, you can keep power for yourself
>Sorry, but you've had your chance. It's time to step aside
>Other
>>
>>580388
>I'll take this to the others, see what they have to say
I can't make a decision on their behalf
>>
>>580388
>Alright, I think we can work together
But let me
>Take this to the others, see what they have to say
>>
>>580388
>>No need, you can keep power for yourself
But it wouldn't hurt to get some fresh ideas. He can stay in charge but we can let our pals know what's going on and see if they want to lend a hand or something. We'll discuss things together.
>>
Anders might be a god awful cheapskate and kind of a dick but, I don't think he would willingly sabotage his safety for some kind of powergrab that will amount to nothing once the storm passes. This all seemed genuine.

Someone like Thomas though. Remember he is the one going back and forth between both parties and the only one really doing this 'Lize and Anders are on different sides' mentality, actively trying to get us into a mindset to cause conflict.
>>
>>580388
>I'll take this to the others, see what they have to say. It's a poor start to co-operation to exclude them.

> Speaking of Mercer . . . He did come to speak to me. I caught him trying door handles as well earlier. Nothing worth acting on, but maybe keeping an eye on.

Sounds like he's stirring the pot more than he should.
>>
>>580494
Yeah definitely second telling Anders to keep an eye on Thomas and making sure he takes everything he hears from Thomas with a large grain of salt.
>>
>>580483
Thomas is a big wuss though. Outside influence sounds more likely, I just don't know exactly how it happened.
>>
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>>580388
>>No need, you can keep power for yourself
The writings are on the wall already, you though you could hack it alone, you though wrong. You think with help you'll be able to manage to turn it around and you might be right. But I am not enclined to help, not after your blunders.
Had you come to us early before starting this, I would have gladly helped.

Will my choice come back to bite me in the rear later? You can be certain of that, but I see the writings and I acknowledge it.

I won't work against you, but I won't be your tool to direct and command. If something happen and it appears that you cannot handle it I may be forced to intervene, but it'll cost you.
>>
>>580494
>>580501
I'll third this
>>
You'll have to take this to the others first, you tell Anders, and see what they have to say. This isn't a decision you can make for them. For the time being, though, you can give him a tentative confirmation. You think you can all work together, and it's probably for the best.

“Take as long as you need,” Anders takes a swig of his drink, and then a thought strikes him, “Who are these “others” anyway? I hope you're not talking to every one of your damn friends about this. If we're to share authority, it'll be easier with fewer folk than more of them...”

It's not a matter of sharing power, you correct him, he can keep his power – and the responsibility. Maybe you could have shared power once, before he tried to go it alone, but that ship has sailed long ago. You won't speak for the others, but you have little interest in becoming a tool for him. You won't work against him, and you'll offer advice when it suits you, but he can keep his power. That's something you want him to understand.

“Huh, got a fair idea of what you want, don't you?” Anders seems more bemused by your speech than anything else, but that might be the drink fogging his mind, “Not working against me... that's good enough for me. So, who else do you want in on this?”

Alyssia Hemwick and Hyde, you tell him, so... pretty much every one of your damn friends. You trust them, and you reckon they can offer him some good advice – if they agree to a discussion.

“Hmm. The Hunter, I can understand, but Hemwick?” squinting a little, Anders studies you like you're a particularly interesting looking bug, “Huh, well, I suppose she's responsible enough. Could serve as the voice of the people, I guess.”

Then it's settled, you decide, but there is one last thing you want to mention. A warning, of sorts. It's about Thomas... Mercer, you mean – he came to you earlier, checking to see if anyone had left their door unlocked. You caught him in the act, fortunately enough. It's not exactly the behaviour of a trustworthy man, is it?

“Thievery, is it? At a time like this?” Anders glares at a spot on the wall, seemingly blaming all his troubles on that single patch of plaster, “The man should have more standards. At a time like this!”

Just watch out for him, you warn, he seems to be stirring the pot. Seeing who comes out on top and making sure he's friends with them when things are over.

“Sly dog...” the landlord curses softly, “I'll have a few words for him, next time we meet.”

Just don't trust him, you urge as you rise to leave.

[1/2]
>>
>>580513
Thomas is actively working to sow dissent. Either he's an amoral opportunist, or he's actively malicious. After all, maybe he wasn't looking to steal anything but trying Henryk and Agathas rooms for other reasons. Rather suspicious they were the first ones. And they're both people who were contacted by Artemis.

Just saying. Nobody said he was working alone either, and a good plan gives you an alibi.
>>
>>580599
> Don't try to confront him, a confrontation is what he's building up. Just keep an eye on him, let him build up enough rope to hang himself with.

FFS Anders. You're terrible at this.
>>
>>580599

“You really think I trusted him?” Anders chuckles as you put a hand to his door, “Time like this, and he's still dressing in a fine suit? No, I knew he was up to something. Seems like he's been playing the both of us.”

That's what you've been trying to tell him, you stress, he's trying to provoke some kind of conflict. You're not sure why – maybe so he can come out on top, maybe just because he's bored – but he's hoping for some kind of confrontation. The best thing Anders can do is to play calm and let him get himself into trouble.

“No direct confrontation?” the landlord almost seems disappointed, “Bugger.”

He'll have to take his frustrations out somewhere else, you tell him with a shrug, just so long as it doesn't involve you.

-

Still thinking on Anders' unexpected conversation you miss Katrina's first whisper. When she dares to raise her voice to the level of a hiss, you turn and face her. Pale and harrowed, she gestures for you to come closer and then turns back to the window.

“Something has the beasts riled up,” she whispers to you, her eyes wide, “Can't you see them? Can't you see them out there?”

You can't see a thing, you tell her as you peer out the window, when was the last time she slept?

“You're not looking,” Katrina whines, “There, you see those eyes?”

You don't-

The words die in your throat as you see... something in the darkness. Something that glows ever so faintly in the darkness, a ruddy red glow that dimly illuminates the rough shape of a muzzle, and shaggy, windswept hair. The face of a beast, wolfish and starving. Meeting those eyes, you feel a chill run down your spine. Slowly, never breaking eye contact, the beast creeps back and fades away into the night until nothing remains, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Maybe you're seeing things. Hell, never mind Katrina – when was the last time you slept?

>I think I'll end things here for today. I'll pick up tomorrow, and I can stick around for a while in case anyone has any questions or comments
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!
>>
>>580653
Thanks for running Moloch.

To be honest I think Lize is having a worse time than Henryk had in the reality bending North.
>>
>>580653
Oh boy, now we're in for some trouble. Maybe Katrina just has really good eyesight and that's why she see's things others can't? Thanks for running Moloch.

>>580669
We did end up getting pretty lucky up north but we could have had a real bad time had we failed some rolls. Even then we had to deal with the Werhlain machine and Bach getting attacked. Worst of all, we couldn't go hang out with Artemis for a good two weeks, clearly Lize is doing just fine in her house of crazies.
>>
>>580669

Well, Lize has her own little share of reality bending going on, with her blood getting feisty, but I can agree there. Henryk has a lot more working in his favour, survival wise, while Lize is still a young girl - with all the vulnerabilities that involves
>>
>>580653
> Wolf beasts

> Hunters have wolf's blood

> Our dragon blood is acting up

> Katrina knows something sketchy about the Hunter

Guys, think maybe the storm might have driven some of the Hunters to become beasts?
>>
>>580734
An interesting theory. I don't think Hyde us going to turn just yet Unless Moloch's doing the whole Jekyll/Hyde thing, but we may have to deal with the community not being able to trust Hunters anymore.....and ripping themselves apart in the process.
>>
>>580749
You mean Mr. Headwound Hyde with impaired consciousness? Luckily Agatha seems to be stimulating a . . . Different bestial hunger of his.

But if Katrina DID see something, her freaking out could cause trouble at a poor time.
>>
>>580784
Alyssia

Not Agatha.
>>
>>580786
Phone posting.

We should tease her about her flirting though.
>>
Hi there! I'm reading the first thread, and I'd like to register my appreciation for an overlooked post!
>I said POWER to the engines! POWER! With a P!
>>
“So, your man is eager to shift some of the weight off his shoulders,” the Hunter muses as he stirs a fork through his can of food. You couldn't say what he was eating, only that it's some kind of meat that smells like something you'd feed to animals. Normal canned food, in other words. No matter how it smells, he eats it steadily and without complaint.

Anders isn't “your man”, you correct him, he's your landlord. That's all.

“The point stands,” Hyde points his fork at you, “He wants us all to get around a table and come to some kind of arrangement, correct?”

That seems to be the case, you confirm, although you're still not entirely convinced by it. Anders isn't exactly some political mastermind, but he's not above pulling some dirty tricks if he thinks he can benefit from them. At least, that's how he seems to you.

“It's progress. Talking is good,” pausing, Hyde eats with the kind of haste that leaves you vaguely nauseous, “I'm not interested in taking power, but he certainly needs some advice. I don't mind taking on some of that weight, if it helps to keep everyone happy.”

“Correct me if I'm wrong,” Alyssia begins, “But you have the authority to take charge completely, don't you?”

“I do, owing to my League qualifications,” the Hunter nods, “But I'd rather not use it. That kind of behaviour is like a blunt instrument, and I don't relish using it. Don't get me wrong, if your man had given me good reason – if he was starting to impose his own justice on the people, say – I would have stepped in. As it is, though, I'm content to work together. Would you be willing to do your part?”

“Me? I suppose,” Alyssia looks uncertain, “Although I'm not really sure how well I'd do. I won't claim to be a... leader, or anything like that.”

All she needs to do, you assure her, is stop Anders from making any more stupid decisions. That shouldn't be too much work, right?

In the awkward silence that follows, you have you clarify that, yes, you were joking.

-

Hyde stumbles a little when he first rises, like a man struggling to keep upright on a moving ship, but that's the only hint that he took a blow to the head not so long ago. Once that first hint of uncertainty is out of the way, he moves with the kind of fluid grace that you've come to expect from Hunters – an easy gait that could easily descend into arrogance. It's not hard to understand how people could be unnerved by Hunters, when they move like unchallenged predators, but you find it delightful to watch.

Perhaps you're not the only one to think that, for Alyssia's eyes remain fixed on Hyde as he leaves. Shooting her a sly grin, you follow him out.

[1/2]
>>
>>584088

Halfway down to the lobby, and your thoughts of peaceful negotiations – or, more likely, long and boring conversations – are disturbed by the crackling of gunfire. Muffled, too quiet to be coming from inside the building, the shots nevertheless sound close by. Smoothly shifting from a casual walk to a quicker pace, Hyde hurries down the remaining flights of stairs and marches across to one of the windows. It's only when he arrives that he has to pause, leaning against the wall and touching the back of his head for a fleeting moment.

Katrina, her eyes wide with fear, watches him for a moment before looking quickly away. She looks worried, but she always does. Moving next to the Hunter, you watch out the window for any signs of trouble. That sign comes in the bright flash of gunfire, lighting up a darkened window in the next tenement across. There's fighting going on in there, sporadic and faltering.

“Looks like that discussion is going to have to wait,” Hyde remarks as he picks up his rifle, “I'm going over there. They need my help.”

“You're going over there?” Anders, lurching up to you with his shotgun held low, asks.

“I am,” Hyde replies calmly, “That is, unless you're here to try and stop me?”

“No, no – you've got your duties, Hunter,” shaking his head, Anders pauses for thought, “Only, I wondered if you might be on the lookout for some things. Scavenge together some parts, and I might be able to get the power working again. Might be, they won't need anything you could find, right?”

A muscle twitches in Hyde's jaw as he fights back a grimace. “Maybe so,” he admits, “But I'm going over there to loot, I'm looking for survivors... and beasts.”

“And you ain't going alone,” Pater announces, approaching with Hilde at his side, “Too dangerous for one man. It's time for us to pull our weight. Reckon you can spare a few weapons for us?”

Hyde is quick to take out his pistol and hand it over, while Anders is somewhat more reluctant to offer his shotgun. Still, he does offer it, and a fat pouch of ammo to keep it fed. “When you get back, I'll be here to get the door,” Anders says, with faint worry, “Then we'll talk things out properly.”

“I understand. We shouldn't be too long,” Hyde pulls up the hood on his coat, shrouding his face in thick shadow. Looking at the three of them, you feel a sudden and violent fear – as though you might never see them again. It passes quickly, but that stab of panic leaves a faint scar behind.

>Stay safe, all of you
>Wait, I'm coming with you!
>Don't go, Hyde. It's too dangerous
>Other
>>
>>584094
>>Wait, I'm coming with you!

Hey Moloch, would you say Lize is better with a knife or a spear at the moment?
>>
>>584094
>Wait, I'm coming with you!

>>584102
In any case a spear would be better against beasts.
>>
>>584102

>She's better with a knife, I'd say. More practice, and a smaller weapon is easier for her to handle
>>
>>584094
>>Wait, I'm coming with you!
Time to see what we can do.
>>
>>584106
Alright we'll keep it a knife if that's what she's more comfortable with.

Also we should get one of Hemwick's bags for scavenging duty. And if Henryk still has a shotgun here we should let Pater use it so he has more than a pistol.
>>
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>>584106
>Young girl is found to be extremely deadly with a knife.
At least the knife isn't magical....yet.
>>
>>584094
>>Stay safe, all of you
>>
Wait, you call out to them, you're coming with them!

“C'mon kid, this is no place for-” Hilde begins, but Hyde silences her with a curt gesture. As she falls silent – the whole lobby, in fact, has fallen silent – he studies you for a long time. His eyes are without hostility, possessing only a cool curiosity as he tries to make up his mind. You hold your ground, knowing that the slightest flinch or hesitation would put an end to your hopes of joining them.

“Alright,” the Hunter says at last, nodding once, “You'd only follow us out anyway, if I tried to keep you here... right?”

Right, you tell him with a grin, at least he gets to keep an eye on you this way.

“Hah, well, I don't think I'll need to worry about you. If I know anything about Henryk, he'll have shown you a fair few things about staying safe,” laughing faintly to himself, Hyde turns to look out the window once more, “Grab whatever you need, but make it quick. I don't want to wait too long before heading out.”

As if to remind you of the rush, a few more lonesome gunshots light up the neighbouring tenement.

-

Running upstairs, you think about what you might need. Weapons, obviously, but something to store any supplies you might stumble across. The idea of looting – perhaps even taking valuables from the dead – doesn't sit very well with you, but it makes a certain pragmatic sense. What good would a few cans of food do for a building full of corpses?

Taking your empty pack along, you pause as your eyes fall on Henryk's shotgun. Cut down to the bare minimum, it makes for a good weapon if you're going to be running down corridors. The action is too stiff for you to easily work, but someone stronger might be able to make better use of it. The recoil, anyway, might knock you on your ass. Better to stick with weapons you can use comfortably – the same hunting knife you've been training with, and the little pistol Henryk gave you. It's better than nothing, and just keeping it close makes you feel more confident somehow, as though Henryk was here with you.

Tucking the shotgun under your arm, and grabbing a stiff paper box of shells for it, you hurry downstairs to join the others. When you pass the gun to Pater, his eyes light up with gratitude. Like a child receiving a brand new toy, you think to yourself.

“We're all ready? Then we're leaving,” Hyde's voice has grown quiet, but hard and focussed, “While we're out there, I want you all to follow my orders. Do that, and we'll all come out of this alive. Understood?”

You glance around at your three companions, controlled fear and determination painted across their features. One by one, they all nod and agree. When you add your voice to the chorus, a sense of finality descends over you. Time to move out.

[1/2]
>>
>>584154

After so long spent trapped indoors, the cutting wind against your face comes as a delirious blessing, something that you've missed more than you realised. The relief at feeling it lasts precisely two minutes, and then the damp snow and biting air grows into a curse once again. Puling up your hood, you sink into the thick fur lining and hold back a shiver. The wind howls in your ears, and you barely hear Hyde's voice when he calls out to the group. Still, you can read gestures well enough, and so you follow him as he waves for you all to do so.

As you're moving out, a strange moment descends upon you. For a few brief seconds, the winds dies completely and the clouds draw back. High above you, the moon almost has a reddish tint to it, a faint crimson glow that shrouds it and leaves it angry, like the eye of a great beast. Although the moment could only last a few seconds, it seems to draw out for much longer than that, long enough for the sight of that odd moon to burn itself into your mind. A Devil Night, that's what Alyssia called a storm like this – a time when spirits roamed freely, and men were driven mad.

Gazing at the moon like this, you feel something stirring within you. It seems to tug at your ancient blood, threatening to drag your dragon to the surface once more. Something begins to well up within your heart, and then the clouds close in once more. As the curtains are drawn, your paralysis breaks and the mood passes. Shaking off your confusion, your uncertainty, you lower your eyes and follow the others.

Did they notice anything? Was there really anything to notice in the first place?

-

The door remains locked tight, but that makes little difference. Whatever broke into this tenement didn't use the door. One window has been shattered, the bars that should have protected it bend back and torn aside. Pausing to examine the damage, Hyde points out the broken edge of the metal. Brittle with corrosion and old rust, some of the metal flakes away at his touch. A tiny weakness, but that was all it took for the defences to fail.

You remember the bars that Anders bolted to your windows, and how sturdy they were. At least he didn't spare any expense on those. Although you might never admit it to his face, you feel a hint of respect – gratitude, even – for the old man.

Next, Hyde points to the broken glass lining the frame, carefully squeezing past the buckled metal and climbing through the empty window. You repeat his motions – it's somewhat easier for you, consider your slender frame – while Pater and Hilde follow behind you.

It's nice to be inside again, you think, and out of that damn wind.

[2/3]
>>
>>584204
So, we're sneaky thievey right? Does that mean we can go off and scout on our own since we can grab Hyde if we need him?
>>
>>584212
Splitting up seems like a bad idea at the moment. And I don't think a (currently) mundane human's sneak skill could beat out a beast's senses.
>>
>>584204
>the moon almost has a reddish tint to it
Oh shit.

>>584212
That sounds like a terrible idea. Hyde said to follow his orders so we should probably do just that. I doubt we can take on a beast unless the dragon takes over and while that sounds like a ton of fun, I'd rather stay nice and safe surrounded by men with shotguns.
>>
>>584204

Although this tenement is built around the same basic shape and template as yours, there are a few differences. Personal touches, almost, that speak of a vaguely flamboyant owner. While Anders is content to leave the lobby as cold and austere as a prison, this unknown landlord has higher aspirations. In gaudy imitation of nobility, a grand chandelier hangs from the ceiling, electrical lights glowing where you'd expect to see candles burning. It's cheap, you can tell that much at a glance – probably worth more as scrap metal.

But you're not here to criticise their interior decoration. Lowering your eyes from the awful chandelier, you look out at the rest of the lobby and immediately regret your decision. As bad as the decoration is, it's better than the smeared trails of blood that mark out the sight of a massacre.

“No bodies,” Hyde reports, in a dispassionate voice, “That's... unusual.”

“Maybe the beasts were hungry,” Hilde suggests, her voice tight with tension and her attempt at sounding nonchalant, “I mean, really hungry.”

“There's a trail,” Pater points out, gesturing at a bloody path that leads into what you assume are the landlord's quarters, “But... I don't really fancy seeing where it leads.”

“Chances are, the fusebox – and any supplies we might need for fixing ours – is through there anyway,” the Hunter points out, a kind of resignation entering his voice, “Remember people, we're not lingering here – I want to be out of here quickly, but that doesn't mean rushing. Efficiency, not haste.”

Something occurs to you, then. No gunshots, you tell the others, they've stopped. Whoever was shooting, they've stopped.

“Shit,” Hyde breathes, glancing up to the stairs. He's thinking the same thing that everyone else is thinking – did the residents kill their bestial enemy, or have they been wiped out?

A pall falls across you all as you consider the odds. Judging by the grim faces on display, they don't work out very well.

>Let's look for some survivors – or some supplies, at least
>We'd better start here, with the repair materials
>That trail... we should at least see where it leads
>This was a mistake. Let's just get out of here
>Other
>>
>>584244
>>Let's look for some survivors – or some supplies, at least
Lets see if we can find some people hiding really well. And hopefully not get pumped full of holes should they have a gun.
>>
>>584244
>>Let's look for some survivors – or some supplies, at least
>>
>>584244
>>Let's look for some survivors – or some supplies, at least
>>We'd better start here, with the repair materials
>>
>>584244
>Let's look for some survivors – or some supplies, at least
>We'd better start here, with the repair materials
>>
Let's look for some survivors, you whisper to the others, maybe they managed to hide themselves further up. Even if you can't find anyone alive... at least you can look for anything they left behind. Food, maybe, or just anything that you can use. Better be careful about it though, in case you get shot at by some paranoid survivor.

“Shoot first, ask questions later,” Pater remarks, with a grim attempt at a smile, “That what you mean?”

That would imply that they would ask questions, you retort, instead of just shooting again.

“True,” the heavyset man admits, the irrelevant exchange helping him to shrug off some of his fear, “Where do you want to start?”

An answer starts to form on your lips, but then you glance across to Hyde. This is his job, after all, and he should be the one giving the orders. He remains silent, though, his eyes fixed on the stairs... at least, that's where he's looking. You're not convinced that he's seeing anything at all. His eyes are dark and blank, as though his thoughts have retreated down a pitch black corridor and left him as an empty shell. As Hilde and Pater share an uneasy look, you nudge the Hunter lightly. Life crashes back into his eyes, and he turns so quickly that you think he's about to strike you.

Then he's sane again, sane and human. “We search,” he says quietly, swallowing, “Start down here, and work our way up.”

Start down here, you repeat, better keep an eye out for suitable repair materials while you're here. Anything that might fix that mess of a fusebox back home.

“I know a few things about that stuff,” Pater offers, still uncomfortable with the whole situation, “I should be able to pick out the useful stuff from any junk we find.”

“Good. Do that,” with his orders given, Hyde slowly checks his rifle over, working the action with the kind of fondness that speaks of an intimate familiarity. As Hilde and Pater head towards the landlord's quarters with their guns at the ready, you cast one last look at Hyde. Oblivious to your glance, he sniffs the air. Judging by the grimace that passes across his face, he doesn't like whatever he smells.

-

“We've struck lucky here,” Pater tells you, although he sounds far from happy about it, “Enough here to build a new fusebox from scratch, if that's what it takes. Glad there's one thing going right.”

“And there's a master key,” Hilde reminds you both, not looking around from her duty as sentry, “Just in case we need to search any of the rooms properly. Someone might have locked themselves in, maybe passed out later.”

Okay, you tell them, but what do they make of... that?

“Bad fucking news,” Hilde mutters, casting a vile look at the open doorway. No human could have opened it, judging by how it hands from one damaged hinge.

[1/2]
>>
>>584325

“Something ripped the door clean open, and it must have dragged something down there,” Pater explains, pointing at the trail of old blood – not that old, it's still fresh enough that your feet leave ghoulish imprints – that leads down into the basement level. “That's what I reckon, at least,” he adds, “But I'll be damned if you'll get me going down there. You put every bit of cash in the land in front of me, and I'd still not go down there. Not after what I've heard.”

What has he heard, you ask, something bad?

“Bad?” Hilde laughs, and her voice is close to breaking point, “Yeah, it's bad. Listen a moment, and it might-”

A deep and shuddering growl, echoing faintly, cuts off her words. It lasts a long time, and for its entire duration, none of you can either speak of move. When it finally tapers off, there comes the sound of rattling metal. As fast as caution allows, Pater scoops bits and pieces of metal and electrical... stuff into his pack. He doesn't even stop to look at what he's taking, he just pockets the lot.

“Okay,” the brawny woman breaks her gaze away from the doorway for a single moment to check on her companion, “We're done here. We're SO done here.”

-

Back in the lobby, you heave the landlord's door closed – this one, thankfully, is intact – and drag a few pieces of furniture across to block it. As barricades go, it won't last until doomsday, but it'll last until you're back in the safety of your own building. Hyde is still here, with his eyes still fixed ahead of him. When Pater sets his pack down, the jangle of metal finally causes the Hunter to look around.

“We're good to go on the repair parts,” Pater announces, with forced cheer, “At least it wasn't a wasteful journey, right?”

“There are beasts here,” Hyde says quietly, “And humans. Survivors, I mean, people. Upstairs – we need to go looking for them.”

“Right,” Hilde nods, “Wait, the beasts or the people?”

But Hyde says nothing, simply stalking ahead with that predatory grace. This time, though, you're not so happy to see it. In fact, it sends a nervous shiver down your spine. Swallowing back the baseless fear, you hurry after him and softly call out to catch his attention. In that same hushed voice, you explain the situation downstairs – the trail leading down into the basement level.

“If a beast was dragging bodies downstairs, it could be making a nest. Gathering food for later,” he sniffs the air again, his eyes narrowing into tight slits, “I don't like it...”

>What do you mean, a nest?
>Hyde, are you okay? You're worrying me
>You said there were people up there. Let's just hurry up and try to find them
>I need to ask you something... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>584382
>>What do you mean, a nest?
>>Hyde, are you okay? You're worrying me
>>
>>584382
>>What do you mean, a nest?
>>Hyde, are you okay? You're worrying me, I mean I've heard that storms like this can make men go mad.
>>
>>584382
>What do you mean, a nest?
>You said there were people up there. Let's just hurry up and try to find them

Has Lize seen Henryk use Wolf Blood yet?
If so
>Other
"Don't lose yourself to the blood Hyde. We need you here human just as much as we need the Hunter."
>>
>>584382
>What do you mean, a nest?
>You said there were people up there. Let's just hurry up and try to find them
>>
A nest, you repeat, what does he mean?

“A nest. A den. A lair,” the Hunter pauses, glancing around at you, “There's only one reason that beasts retreat like that, especially if they're gathering food. I wager we've got a female down there, and it's preparing to breed. Maybe the male is still up here, gathering bodies to add to the pile.”

A pregnant beast, you ask with disgust, really? And do they really do that, acting like a... a team?

“Sometimes. It's not their usual behaviour, but things change once you bring breeding into the equation,” Hyde checks over his rifle once more, and you can't help but follow suit by readying your pistol, “If the male is up here, it's going to be on the defensive. We're in its territory now, as far as its concerned, and it's got young to protect. Dangerous times. Stick close, and don't make too much noise. I need to concentrate...”

Looking behind you, you wave for Hilde and Pater to keep close, pressing a finger to your lips as you do so. Their resolve seems to be faltering, but it remains unbroken – for now, at least. Looking back to Hyde, you can't help but fret. He's pale, fatigued by some unknown strain. Pain from his head wound, perhaps, or something more esoteric altogether.

Hyde, you whisper, is there something wrong? He's starting to worry you, with all this sniffing the air and stuff. You've heard stuff, you add, about these storms. What you mean is, you've heard that they can drive men mad... or make them worse, if they were mad already.

That last little addition, you decide against mentioning.

“Hard to focus with all this blood around,” he shudders, “The smell of it... Has Henryk spoken to you of the Wolf's Blood?”

Sort of, you reply, bits and pieces. It sharpens the senses, doesn't it?

“I can smell them – beasts, people, and the dead. Maybe you're right about the moon, though, it's... more vivid than normal. I've never felt anything like this,” dragging in a shuddering breath, he runs a hand down his face, “Shit, it's like having a wolf howling in my blood. Can't shut it up, either – just got to wait it out, wait for it to go back to sleep.”

Just like your Dragon's Blood, you think, rising unbidden to surface and only subsiding once it burns itself out. The Devil Night is toying with the both of you. Don't let himself get lost in it, you urge Hyde, you need him to be a man – not just a Hunter.

“Focus. That's all I've got to do,” he nods, running a hand across his shaven scalp next, “I can do that. I'm not a damn beast.”

That's right, you agree, he's a man. Speaking of men, he said there were others here – time to hurry up and find them.

[1/2]
>>
>>584456

The first floor you check is as empty as a tomb, almost every door you've seen hanging open to reveal deserted homes. Moving silently now – none of you dare talk, and the only communication is done by gestures – you go room to room and look for any signs of life. When you stumble across a cupboard full of canned food, you wordlessly start to fill your pack. The only sound is the tiny sound of clinking metal, and the uneasy feeling in the air grows that much thicker. Even keeping practicality and pragmatism in mind, this act still has the feeling of looting - grave robbery, even.

The gunshot, when it finally comes, is almost a relief. It pierces the gathering tension, and finally puts an end to the growing dread. The strangled cry that follows it, though, offers nothing but fresh fear.

“Upstairs!” Pater hisses, bringing his borrowed shotgun to the ready, “Next floor up, maybe.”

“Let's move,” Hyde snaps, his tone offering no choice in the matter.

-

While you start quickly, you slow to a more cautious pace when you reach the stairwell. If someone was shooting, they had to be shooting at something – and that something might still be nearby. With your guns raised to meet whatever might be waiting for you, you emerge onto the next floor. A body, lying face down in a spreading pool of blood, is there to greet you. Nothing else – no sign of the killer.

With his foot, Hyde rolls the body over and squats down to examine it, Pater and Hilde nervously covering both ends of the corridor as he does so. A handgun lies a few feet away, the smell of spent powder still fighting against the copper stink of fresh blood. “His throat was torn out,” Hyde declares, “It would have been quick.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Hilde asks bitterly, “Or did you think I'd be interested?”

“Look at him, full winter coat and boots. He wasn't dressed for inside,” the Hunter continues, talking more to himself than to anyone else, “And... a full pack. Eliza, take a look, would you?” He strips the dead man's backpack off and hands it to you. With mounting uncertainty, you open it up and look inside. Canned food, a flashlight, and a canvas sack of... jewellery. You might be here for the essentials only, but this man was clearly less discriminating.

“A looter,” Hilde mutters, faint anger in her voice – anger, and a distinct note of guilt. Before she has the chance to say anything else, though, you all hear something. Footsteps, heavy boots thumping down the stairs.

“Looks like he had friends,” Pater warns, in a low and desperate voice, “They must have heard that shot as well. We don't have much time!”

>Everyone hide, one of the apartments maybe...
>We can talk with them, can't we? That beast is our mutual enemy
>Hell, we're done here – time to leave, before they find us!
>Other
>>
>>584625
>>Everyone hide, one of the apartments maybe...
>>
>>584625
>Hell, we're done here – time to leave, before they find us!
>>
>>584625
>>Everyone hide, one of the apartments maybe...
We should leave the pack there right? Unless they already know someone else is in here it seems like a smart move.
>>
>>584625
>>Everyone hide, one of the apartments maybe...
Leave the looter's pack.
>>
>>584625
>Everyone hide, one of the apartments maybe...
>>
Everyone hide, you hiss, one of the apartments – anything, the first open door they see!

“You heard her,” Hyde takes a moment – a second at most, but every second counts right now – to snap back to reality, “Stay out of sight, and stay quiet!” Rising to his feet, he points to an ajar door, heading for it before the words have even finished leaving his mouth. You start to follow, but then the weight of the pack in your hands gives you pause. Dropping it to the ground next to the body, you let the contents spill out.

It looks close enough, you decide, like he dropped it when he was attacked. Close enough to fool a few panicked looters, at least. With your tracks covered as best you can, you retreat into the apartment and close the door – softly, mind, barely daring to click it shut. Throwing the lock shut, you hold your breath and listen. The walls here are thin, and you can hear their heavy boots clearly now. No doubt they could hear you just as clearly, if you made any sudden or clumsy movements.

“Ah hell, fucking hell!” the first voice, rough and ragged, cries, “That bastard got Sander!”

“Shut up, asshole,” a second, quieter voice hisses, “It might still be out here. Maybe he wounded it – you see a trail?”

“I don't see shit, idiot,” the first replies. You're starting to think of them that way – Asshole and Idiot, with Sander as the only one of them with a proper name – and the absurd thought almost brings you to a fit of laughter. Clutching your hands against your mouth, you strain to hold it back and stay silent. When you finally trust yourself not to bray out a sudden laugh, you take your hands from your mouth.

“Look, just grab his pack and let's go,” Asshole says a moment later, “More food for the rest of us, see? More cash too, when all this is over and we can sell that crap. Sander knew the risks, coming here, everyone did. We all knew what we were getting into.”

“Nah, I ain't leaving,” Idiot shoots back, and you hear the hard sound of a rifle's bolt being drawn back, “That fucking monster took down too many of us. I ain't just gonna walk away.”

He really is an idiot, you think to yourself as you fight back another wave of laughter, an idiot with a death wish. Then you hear something that kills the laughter stone dead.

“Wait a damn minute, look here,” the first voice – the comedic nicknames have lost their shine, all of a sudden – hisses, “Look at this. Footprints!”

Looking around, you see Hyde closing his eyes in despair. Looking down, you see his boots, darkened by the fresh blood.

“Footprints,” the looter grunts, “We ain't alone here, and I ain't talking about a beast.”

Heavy boots creak on the floorboards outside the door, and then the handle slowly turns.

[1/2]
>>
>>584742
You loot, we shoot.
>>
>>584752
Aren't we technically looting?
>>
>>584766
Nah, we're scavenging. Food and necessities.

Also we came to save anyone still here.

This cunts are stealing valuables that would go to next of kin, or be reclaimed later by people who fled.
>>
>>584742

“Locked,” the man mutters, loud enough for his voice to find its way through the door, “Fuck it. I'm breaking it down. Bastards, I bet they were the ones who killed Sanders. This is our turf, I ain't letting some other vulture pick it clean!”

“Forget the damn door, I don't give a shit about whoever else is here,” the second voice – more distant now – retorts, “Ah, I know – you're scared of that beast, ain't you? That's why you're fucking around with doors and footprints!”

“If it'll shut your damn mouth, fine,” the voice snarls, “But I ain't gonna help when you get torn apart by some big wolf bastard, you hear? Nah, I'll watch just long enough to laugh at your sorry arse, and then I'm outta here.”

You have to fight back the urge to breath a sigh of relief when you hear the looter outside taking a step away from the door. He's leaving, you think deliriously, he's leaving you alone. You don't need long, just long enough to run away.

“Just give me two bloody minutes,” he adds, crushing the scant hopes you had gathered, “Two minutes to check this out.”

You glance across to Hyde, and you see his face set in a hard mask. Slowly, moving with such care that he makes no sound at all, he raises the rifle to his shoulder and aims at the door. A rifle like that, you realise, would punch clean through that thin door and still have the power to end a man's life. Before Hyde can pull the trigger, though, Pater grabs the barrel of the gun and pushes it down to point at the floor.

“Hide,” he mouths, “In the bathroom, quickly.”

The Hunter shakes his head angrily just as the first blow strikes the door, shaking it on its frame. Jerking the rifle free from Pater's grip, he throws it back against his shoulder and takes aim once more.

“Hide!” Pater mouths again, his wide eyes giving his “words” all the emphasis they need, “We can drag him if we have to!”

>Take shelter in the bathroom
>Let Hyde take the shot
>Call out to the looter
>Other
>>
>>584850
>Let Hyde take the shot

Use them as bait.
>>
>>584850
>>Take shelter in the bathroom
He's probably got a sweet idea. I wonder if playing the cute little girl that is hiding from the monsters is a good card to play right now though. Has maybe a 50/50 shot of working. I'd roll for it.
>>
>>584850
>>584863
I forgot to add, tell Hyde to aim at gut level.

Then his friends can choose between fighting or "saving" him. And the wound will get the beast to chase them instead.
>>
>>584850
>>Call out to the looter
>>"Take your friends stuff and leave, before the thing that rip't his throat out returns."
>>
>>584869
Don't forget we're playing as a little girl here. We're not exactly bloodthirsty or nearly calm and calculated to think of something like that. 'Sides they might be looters but it's still no reason to just toss them to the dogs.
>>
>>584850
>Let Hyde take the shot
>>
>>584850
Oh ffs

>Call out to the looter
"I didn't kill your friend. The beast got him. Look at his throat. I have a gun and am going to shoot anything that comes through that door. So please take your stuff and leave before it comes back."

Emphasis in implying that Lize is alone. Everyone else should stay quiet.
>>
>>584880
Teenage girl, not little girl.

With Dragon Blood.

I feel it's in character enough.
>>
>>584850
>>Call out to the looter
>>
>>584895
The shoot part is in character.

The 'go for the gut wound to inflict max suffering and making the other guy have to make a decision like that' super cold pragmatism style is not in character.
>>
>>584892
Supported
>>
>>584902
Dragons blood.

Remember how she was reminiscing earlier about how her mom viewed "the herd" and how she was starting to view them like that as well? And now she's not just facing scared people, but vultures deliberately taking advantage of the situation?

Even without the Dragons Blood, I think it wouldn't be that far out of character. Especially to get the looters to fuck off, and maybe draw off the beast, and let us save the people that might actually have been killed by the looters and not the beasts at all.

But I see what way the vote is going. You all want to talk it out with thieves and thugs whose first reaction to finding us was to try and kill us. That's cool.
>>
Gritting your teeth, you wave for Hyde to lower the rifle. He shakes his head again, and that's when you know that you need to take urgent action. Letting your voice tremor with fear – and that's not hard to do, with precise little imitation needed – you call out to the looter.

Wait, you cry, you didn't kill his friend! You didn't kill anyone, just look at his throat – could a person really do that?

“Huh?” the man almost sounds taken aback, as if he'd been expecting something else entirely, “What are you, a kid? You lost your parents, girl?”

That's right, you reply, you're alone in here – but you've got their gun. You don't want to hurt anyone, but you'll use it if you have to. Please, you add after a moment, you just want to be left alone!

“Not a good place to be alone, girly,” the looter sneers, “You sure you're not scared in there?”

He's the one who should be scared, you think darkly to yourself, but he's too stupid to realise that. You won't stop him from taking anything, you call out to him, you won't stand in his way. Just take his friend's things and leave, before that beast comes back. It's still here, you add in an extra frightened voice, and it might take his throat out next.

“Might be I'd kill it first,” he boasts, “I'm tougher than Sander ever was, see? I wager-”

“Come ON!” the second looter bellows, “Had enough of your shit, stop playing around and get over here!”

“Ugh,” a heavy sigh reaches you through the door, and you can't help but imagine the vile scent of the man's breath, “Stick around, girly, and I'll be right back. You'll need a big strong man like me to protect you, right? Well, I don't mind taking a little lost stray under my wing...” He chuckles, the sound of his laugh enough to turn your stomach. “Stick around,” he repeats, his voice a little more distant now, “I'll not forget about you, sweetie.”

Footsteps, then, growing quieter as he moves further away. When you can't hear a single step, you tentatively draw back the lock, open the door, and peer outside. The corridor is empty, save for the corpse left lying in its own filth. Opening the door a fraction wider, you wave for the others to follow you and hurry out into the stairwells, taking the steps down to the ground floor two at a time.

You're done here – you don't want to spend a minute longer in these damn corridors. As you reach the lobby once again, you hear the first few shots ringing out. A few more follow, but then you're climbing through the shattered window frame into the cold, blustery air, and you hear no more.

Freedom.

[1/2]
>>
>>585008
Nah.

I'm not going to justify Lize suddenly turning into hardcore, borderline sociopathic survivalist at the drop of a hat using Dragon's Blood as an excuse. She is clearly still mostly herself until she lets it loose.

Hell what you suggested might be considered OOC for even Henryk who probably would have just shot them in the head. Dude has said in character that he really doesn't like killing humans.
>>
>>585048

When you pound at the tenement door, Anders is only too quick to let you in – and just as quick to push the door closed once more. Back inside the relative safety of the tenement block, you dump your supplies down and collapse, mutual tiredness dropping over you all like a lead sheet. Nobody has said much of anything since leaving, and you get the feeling that there isn't much to be said.

“Pretty bold, trying a trick like that,” Hilde says eventually, looking at you with a kind of disbelieving wonder, “I wasn't sure if it would have worked. Me, speaking personally, I would have just plugged the bastards. I heard them – I don't reckon the world would have missed folks like them.”

“Ugh,” Pater grunts out in pain as he rises to his feet, grabbing the pack of salvage, “Hey boss, I got these. I think there's enough there to get the power flowing okay. You want to show me what I'm dealing with?”

“Of course, if you think you can get some results,” at the mention of power, Anders' face lights up, “Let me show you the... mess.”

“Hey,” Hyde shuffles a little closer to you, lowering his voice so only you can hear him, “Why didn't you just let me shoot? I'm not angry at you, I'm just... curious. Why try and protect them, men like those?”

Why indeed, you wonder, why did you stop him shooting? They were the kind of “unnecessary people” that your mother would have hated, denounced as harmful to society. If it improved her life, she wouldn't have hesitated from having them killed. But then... maybe that's why you protected them, to prove that you're a better person than her. You're more than just family and heritage – you've got your own mind, and you chose your own path.

“You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to,” Hyde continues, “But, if you feel like talking...”

>I had my reasons. Can we leave it at that?
>They were still people. They deserved a chance to live
>I didn't want you to dirty your hands, that's all
>Can I ask you something? (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>585118
>>I had my reasons. Can we leave it at that?
>>
>>585118
>They were still people. I'd rather we not start shooting each other cause we are all desperate.

>That said, had the bastard still tried to come in I would have shot him myself. That wasn't a bluff back there.
>>
>>585118
>>I didn't want you to dirty your hands, that's all
That was my reason anyway. Does Lize know that Henryk isn't fond of killing humans? She could mention that maybe she thought that Hyde was the same.
>>
>>585143
supporting this, adding
>Also that would have been a waste of a rifle bullet and one less obstacle for the beast
>>
>>585118
>They were still people. They deserved a chance to live
>I didn't want you to dirty your hands, that's all
>>
>>585118
>They were still people, scum or no.
>Gunfire might have drawn the beast too.
>>
>>585118
I'll support >>585143

>>585059
Did you miss the part where I referenced her earlier insights regarding her upbringing and her views of people?

It's not just the Dragons blood. But I figure that, plus the shock of seeing not just the bad side of people but actual criminals, PLUS the moon agitating her blood, could be more than enough.

But hey, I guess any survivors left in that building . . . aren't, anymore.
>>
>>585118
Seconding >>585143
>>
>>585198
Not that guy, but when everytime she mentioned her upbringing and her parents negative views on society. She also mentioned how she didn't agree with them at all and that she could simply see what they meant.

But none of that even comes close to a teenage girl suddenly wanting to gutshot some asshat looter to be torn apart by a beast. That's way the fuck out of line and nothing here could justify it.
>>
You had your reasons, you begin slowly, and you're not sure if he'd understand them. So... would he mind leaving it at that?

“I don't mind,” he shrugs, “But you might find me more understanding than I look. I'm no fool, you know. Like I said, if you want to talk about it, you can trust me. I'm not about to go spreading your private business to anyone with ears.”

Sighing, you realise that it would be impossible to put a name to the swirling feelings within you. Not an accurate name, at least, or one that would be concise enough to truly explain how you feel. In the end, you settle for a small shrug. They were still people, you decide, scum or not they deserved a chance to live. Besides, it's no good for everyone to start shooting each other at the first sign of trouble. That's not a good way to live.

“Still...” the Hunter thinks for a short while, “If he'd tried to break down the door...”

You would have shot him dead, you promise, you gave him a chance – it wouldn't have been your problem if he wasted it. No, you weren't bluffing about that, you were prepared to defend yourself with as much force as you needed to use. If force wasn't something either of you needed to use... no sense in dirtying his hands, was there? Or wasting a bullet, you add with a faint smile.

“No, that's true. I doubt it would have come to much trouble if I had killed the man. Shooting a looter is no big deal, in times like these, but it would have been difficult and awkward. Paperwork, that sort of thing,” Hyde chuckles, although there isn't much humour in it, “I'm sure Henryk's said the same thing.”

He doesn't relish needless killing, you confirm, he's... not that kind of man.

“Hunters shouldn't be,” Hyde nods slowly, “Once you start to enjoy your work too much, it's the end for you. Maybe not immediately, maybe not soon, but it's the start of something you can't prevent. Seen it happen, and it's never a nice thing to look at.”

Anyway, you wave away the weighty conversation, you were worried that the gunfire might have brought the beast down on you. Easier to escape this way, while that pair of idiots were busy getting themselves killed. Everyone has their uses, after all.

“True, but-” Hyde falls silent as the lights flicker on, bulbs warming up to a comforting golden glow, “Hey,they really got the power working! I've got to admit, I wasn't sure if...”

And you've got all this extra food, you add with forced cheer, you can eat your sludge warmed up!

“Ah, luxury,” the Hunter sighs, and you both find yourselves sharing a weary laugh.

>I think I'll pause things here. I'll pick things up on Monday, and I can stick around for a while in case of any questions or comments
>Thanks for sticking around today!
>>
>>585300
Thanks for running Moloch.
>>
Thanks, I've had fun with Liz little big adventure but man will Henryks 'triumphant' return be fun when he hears about this.
>>
>>585291
Yeah, because no-one has ever said they're going to be the opposite of their parents, and then been shocked by real life.

Like having a looter threaten to rape you.

>>585300
Thanks for running! So, were there any non-looter survivors in the building?
>>
>>585300
So any survivors in that house probably aren't survivors anymore right? And is it okay to just leave those beasts breeding so close to our building? Tasty humans sounds like a perfect meal for a couple of newborn beasts.
>>
>>585345
You are goal post shifting.

As I said earlier shooting to kill was in character. It was a shitty situation and I can easily see that happening.

The original point of contention was that your gutshot plan and leaving him to get devoured was OOC.

But threads over and I am going to drop it.
>>
>>585345
>>585351

The tenement didn't have any innocent survivors left in it. They either fled once their defences fell, or they stayed and died, either to the beasts or when the looters moved in.
And yes, it's not too safe to leave the beasts growing next door. Dealing with them might be the next task we have to attend to, depending on what happens.

>>585336

I think we'll be picking up with Henryk again next thread. I planned for Lize's section to be one thread, but that didn't really go to plan. In either case, we'll be back together soon.
>>
>>585345
Your trying to use a shitty situation to justify behavior that even the hardened trained killers Lize knows wouldn't resort to.

And it wasn't even all that bad. If those looters picked a fight they would've needed up dead. Gut shotting one to use as bait is completely over the top and out of character. You were trying to make Lize something she isn't in one vote. And it was dumb.
>>
>>585369
> The original point of contention was that your gutshot plan and leaving him to get devoured was OOC.

Dude has friends.

And you'll note that we STILL left them there to get devoured, so . . . .

How am I goal-post shifting? Given her recent shocks and insecurity about her stated attitude towards people, and the uprising of her dragon blood, I don't feel it was OOC.

I'm sorry, am I not being civil in some manner that you don't want to discuss it? Because I'll also have you note that after people voted to go another way with it I DID support >>585143

Guess what, in part our actions get to decide what is and isn't OOC for the characters. I wanted to push Liz a little bit more towards being pragmatic and having her grow some independence and yes, even callousness in this arc. I think it's boring have her be super restrained and "just a little girl". Henryk is already a moralfag enough I feel.

Nobody else wanted to though, so whatever. I'm not going to shitpost through the rest of the quest. About that. I make no promises for other things.
>>
>>585381
>or when the looters moved in.

Should have shot the looters.

>>585391
What is a "honeypot"? Because it happens pretty often.

Besides, it gives them the opportunity to also save his life as opposed to just killing him outright.
>>
>>585394
>>585403
you're being an edgy retard.
>>
>>585381
>I think we'll be picking up with Henryk again next thread.
If so I'm HYPEd up!
>>
>>585394
The fact that you used the word moralfag even with quotations is enough for me to also give up on this conversation. Have a nice day.
>>
>>585419
Classy, jumping right to the name calling.

Does the thought of Liz not being your pure waifu make you feel insecure? Can't handle a strong Dragon woman?

I'm just gonna skip the rest of the innuendo and ask when you started acting like this to compensate for your small penis.
>>
>>585394
I'm sorry senpai. It's hard to take you too seriously when last time we were Henryk you advocated murdering Wehrlain in cold blood and throwing him overboard cause he was a dick.

And that other time when you said that getting information from the Bartzov mindlink body was the equivalent of committing suicide by Red Moon.

And now your attempts at trying to justify the your gutshot plan. Like I don't mind her trying to be pragmatic but you went like 2 steps too far.

You are an extremely vindictive and paranoid individual.
>>
>>585424
That's not really an argument?

God forbid I use some sort of shorthand to reference how it would be nicer to have someone on the darker side of the spectrum.

Remember, we're going to have to kill humans eventually. How you gonna talk to Liz about that then? It's okay for Henryk, but not her, for reasons?
>>
>>585438
>It's okay for Henryk, but not her, for reasons?

Once again. Killing them was fine. Your gutshot plan wasn't. End of story.

Shit I need to stop getting drawn into this.
>>
>>585437
Uh, people were on board with shanking Wehrlain at first, and if you read back you'll note that I was against that once we had an alternative solution with the other Scholars standing up to him. Heck, I even opposed people who wanted to move against him right away, because he was dangerous.

And the Bartzov mind-link WAS a trap. We did have to rip our way out of that after all, remember?

But I see where you're coming from. I want to play a slightly different game than most of the people here, and should rein it in a bit.
>>
>>585433
>>585438
Killing someone is fine, Torturing them isn't. If you can't get that through your thick skull, you should go back to watching Naruto and commiserate with Sausuke.
>>
>>585442
> Murder is fine, but wounding isn't.

They could have instead chosen to stop looting and GTFO with their wounded friend. Instead they stayed to loot and die.
>>
>>585419
I thought so too, but he made his point clear in >>585394. Pushing for a change in Lize isn't a bad idea, but I do think it should have been a bit smoother. That was like jumping a few steps of character development. I may not agree with what he wants, partly because I myself don't know how I want Lize to turn out, but it could be a possibility I guess.
>>
>>585452
You don't die right away from a gutshot wound. You'll notice that the city has doctors and shit?

The choice would have been theirs to either try to get out now that their friend was wounded, or stay and risk drawing the beast.
>>
>>585458
>>585466
A gutshot is a long slow death, even with modern medicine it's a 50/50 chance to pull through depending on where you get hit. With their level of knowledge? Death, a long slow, painful drawn out death. THat's even IF a doctor would open their doors to them. Which given the storm and the fact he's bleeding out is unlikely. Odds are even if they left he'd get ditched because he's beast bait and we'd have every beast within several miles lured to him, and then to us. That's the difference. Shooting to defend and kill is fine. Shooting to torture, maim and make someone have a long drawn out torturous death is not.
>>
>>585476
Oh, so now it's in-character for Liz to know that and not think a gut shot is non-lethal because it doesn't kill them right away? She's a medical expert all of a sudden?

>Odds are even if they left he'd get ditched because he's beast bait and we'd have every beast within several miles lured to him, and then to us.

We aren't the ones traveling with him, those are his friends. And he can't be any more beast bait than the people just killed by the looters.
>>
>>585476
What I'm trying to say is, stop trying to make the claim the vote was to shoot him to torture him.

Feel I've been pretty consistent it was more about giving his friends the choice to pull out with him, with the beast chasing them being a bonus.

You know, as opposed to killing him and then having a firefight with the other looters because we just killed their friend. I could have been more clear on wanting to avoid that, I admit, but the vote moved past it and you focused on other shit in my post to bitch about.
>>
>>585489
>Oh, so now it's in-character for Liz to know that and not think a gut shot is non-lethal because it doesn't kill them right away? She's a medical expert all of a sudden?

It's in character because gutshots and gut wounds in general take a really long ass time to kill. This has been known so well that even peasants knew it when it happened. Someone as well read as Liz would knows this. Especially with her education and legend lore.

>We aren't the ones traveling with him, those are his friends. And he can't be any more beast bait than the people just killed by the looters.
If he gets dragged into the open air? The area would quickly have every beast outside after him, and since we ere near him after us too.

>>585503
>stop trying to make the claim the vote was to shoot him to torture him.
It was though. He was guaranteed a long drawn out death and his freinds would attack us anyways because they're not gibbering retards to leave someone with a gun at their back.
>>
>>585509
Remember how it was specifically pointed out that Liz hadn't received any of that kind of education yet, and was untrained in fighting and such? We had to get Kolyat to show her some stuff?

You do have a point about once they got on the street, but they would also be moving away whereas we're next door.

You're the only one who saw it as a torture vote, I certainly didn't intend it that way and I'm skeptical Liz would either since she had no exposure to combat or combat veterans except after meeting Henryk.

And it would still be a "possible" death over a "definite" death.

But hey, they all got killed by Beasts instead so they could breed and feed their young. So much better. Aren't you just a little Morel Orel.
>>
>>585596
>Remember how it was specifically pointed out that Liz hadn't received any of that kind of education yet, and was untrained in fighting and such? We had to get Kolyat to show her some stuff?


>knowing how to fight and what wounds are ultimately lethal are the same thing.

Dude no, Even rolling in dirt dumb as rocks peasant in the medieval ear knew gut wound were bad news, much less someone with access to a lot of information and old stories.
>>
>>585625
Yeah, okay. Tell yourself that.
>>
>>585636
and you can go wank to yourself about how mature and intelligent you are while crying about how everyone else can't understand you. All while listening to Linkin Park.

Anyone who uses Moralfag unironically is an edgy preteen try hard.
>>
>>585661

From the guy referencing Naruto and Linkin park and shit instead of making arguments.

I wish lefty-pol would go.

Want to source your statements? Back that up with all the wealth of writing we have from peasants of medieval ages? Oh wait you can't.

It's not like we have text from reputable sources like Ahmed Ibn Fahdlam which discuss how medical knowledge of gut wounds differed between cultures and shit.

Stop repeating things you've heard people say, you're doing it wrong.
>>
Alright stop. This is pointless shitflinging now. What's done is done.
>>
>>585661
And for the record, I am actually really enjoyed when Collision Course came out.
>>
>>585744
But the IDs make the shit flinging feel personal now!

But yeah you're right. I'll stop feeding the troll I should know better.
>>
>Everyone here forgetting how Lize decided to euthanize a man with a gut wound specifically because it was a choice between a fast and a slow death.
>It was just a thread ago.
>>
>bloodborne quest
>wanting to NOT be edgy
>>
eh. I like the current result just fine.

Using the looter as bait would be.....dark, but if the purpose was to kill the beast and damn the nest, it would be safer for a lot more people. Main problem is starting a fight with the rest of the looters, which is just plain inefficient.
>>
It didn't take long for you to lose interest in the discussions, and you can tell that Hyde shares in that. Soon, you've withdrawn from Anders' achingly boring discussions on leadership – dividing up responsibilities, resource allocation, freedom of information and countless other tasks – and it looks like the Hunter might be next. Alyssia is giving the talks her full attention, but she looks a little lost.

Maybe this is what Anders expected, you wonder to yourself, when he offered these talks. Maybe he was planning on boring you all to sleep.

The discussions themselves feel pointless, in all honesty. Just the fact that Anders was willing to cooperate, and to offer them, was enough to defuse the tension that had been building between you. That little riot had shown you both what could happen when control gave way to panic, and nobody wants a repeat performance. If that means swallowing your pride and working together, so be it.

With the food you brought from the neighbouring tenement, and the power back on, the immediate problems seem to be over. Life goes on, albeit far from the kind of normality you'd want.

-

Gripped by boredom, you toy with Anders' radio while the others talk. With the volume turned down low, the static that hisses out reminds you a little of the noise made by the waves. Rising and falling like the tides, the sound is almost soothing. Without looking for anything in particular, you turn the dial and listen to the ebb and flow of the static.

Then, coming quite by surprise, a break in the static opens up and you hear a tinny human voice crackling out. Sitting bolt upright, you twist the volume up and listen.

“...Earliest estimate of two days before the storms have dissipated completely,” the ragged voice drones on, “Disruption to train lines is expected to last...”

Your cry, of amazement and delight, stops the murmured background conversation dead and draws every eye to look, confused, towards you.

-

The short version of it is simple – the storm is starting to tire itself out, thinning just enough for radio messages to get through to you. The news they bring is good. Two, perhaps three days, and then the last of this vile weather should have retreated. No doubt it will take a while for life to return to normal – power lines will need to be repaired, train tracks will need clearing and countless other tasks loom ahead – but those barely dent your newfound optimism. This, you announce, is the best news you've had for a long time!

“Technically,” Alyssia points out, “It's the only news we've had in a long time.”

That's not the point.

[1/2]
>>
>>597296

With your spirits lifted by the news, not even the lukewarm buckwheat sludge that pretends to be a meal can kill your mood. Enjoying the simple pleasures of electrical lighting and warm food once again, as though you'd never been without them, it would take something pretty bad to ruin this content scene.

Now that you think that, you wonder if it might have been tempting fate. Holding your breath for a moment, you wait for the next crisis to swoop in and shatter the peace. When nothing happens, and the quiet mood is allowed to remain unharmed, you let out a soft sigh. No need to worry, you think as a small grin starts to form on your lips, everything is-

The knock at the door causes you to flinch slightly, your smile dying before it was even fully formed. You give the closed door a sour look for a while before rising to answer it. If there's trouble, you'll have to deal with it sooner or later.

-

“That shotgun,” Hyde asks, in lieu of any introductions or pleasantries, “I might need to borrow it. Would you mind?”

Not at all, you reply, but can you ask why he needs it?

“I'm going next door again, and it'll be more use than a rifle,” he tells you, “I've thought about it, and I don't like leaving a job half done. If there really is a nest of beasts down there, I've got a duty to clear it out. It's my job, after all.”

Going down into a nest of beasts on his own, with only a shotgun to protect him? Sounds dangerous, you offer.

“Not so much,” Hyde shakes his head, “You've never seen a beast that's preparing to spawn, have you? They're not like normal animals, they bloat until they can barely walk or find their own food. That's why they hide themselves away and rely on their mate to bring them corpses. It's pretty rare to find a nest like this, though – I wager the College would be happy to study it. Well, tough luck for them, I'm not leaving it to fester. Not if there's a chance of letting the beasts spread further.”

Still, you point out, there's the other one to consider – the male.

“I'd be a sorry excuse for a Hunter if a single beast drove me away,” he laughs, although there's a vaguely forced sound to it, “I can handle the male, but I might not even need to. I'm focussing on the female for now. The patrols can take care of the rest later, once the storm has passed.”

The Ministry patrols, you think, sweeping the streets and recording the damage left behind by the storm. Most of it will be looting or weather damage, but they'll be prepared for anything. Even so, a full nest of beasts might be too much for them.

“The shotgun?” Hyde reminds you, bringing you back to reality. Shaking your head clear, you fumble out the weapon and pass it over to him.

>Good luck with the hunting, then
>Mind if I come along?
>Other
>>
>>597298
>Mind if I come along?
>>
>>588642
Now, THAT'S relevant point I have no answer to.

I cede the issue.

> >Mind if I come along?

Nobeless oblige. Also, going alone is fucking insane even for a hunter. He isn't planning on facing them both, but what if things don't go to plan?
>>
>>597298
>>Mind if I come along?
The peace has already been disrupted, might as well go all in.
>>
>>597298
Also if we have any alcohol go make a Molotov. Fire might be good on a nest.
>>
So, you ask as he's checking the gun over, would he mind if you came along? He might need someone to keep an eye on things for him, and you don't mind offering your services. No matter how confident he might be, going alone is dumb.

“Somehow, I thought you might ask,” Hyde chuckles, “It must run in the family, I can't imagine Henryk sitting on his hands while someone else does the hard work either. Sure, you can come along. If there's any serious fighting to do, though, leave it to me, okay?”

Fine, you concede, it's job after all.

“That's right. Let me earn my wages,” the Hunter, apparently satisfied with the shotgun, tucks it under his arm, “Oh, I have to pick up a few things before we leave. Some extra sundries and supplies, that's all. It won't take long.”

What's he picking up, you ask with a sly smile, a packed lunch from Alyssia?

“Not quite,” Hyde looks away from you, a slight grin of his own flashing across his features.

-

As you walk downstairs, a question occurs to you. What about Hilde or Pater, you ask, did he mention this to them?

“I did,” Hyde's answer is blunt, almost curt, “They didn't ask to come along. Had I asked for my help, I think they would have refused. Last time... unnerved them. I think I might have made a poor impression.”

You recall the feral way he had stared into space, sniffing the air and savouring the taste of blood. Understandable, you tell him with a grimace, you can't really blame them for backing out – or rather, for not putting themselves forwards in the first place. He isn't... offended by it, is he?

“This sort of thing... Hunters do well to get used to it,” Hyde shrugs, “It's nothing I've not seen before. Once a dog starts to act feral, men always give it a wide berth. That's just human nature, and I don't blame them for it. Anyway, it's... not something I really care to talk about. How about we let this one lie?”

That shrug of his contained too many conflicting feelings to be an easy read. Guilt, resentment, weary acceptance... all those and more lurked behind a simple gesture. Considering this for a long while, you offer a hesitant reply. Sure, you tell him, good idea.

Still, the mood remains sullen until you reach the lobby. Waiting by the door, you see a few objects. A thick brush, a can of black paint, and a bottle of whiskey – probably drawn from Anders' supply.

Okay, you remark as you look at the supplies, some party he's preparing for.

“Just the usual quiet night in,” Hyde agrees, his voice rough with the effort of fighting back a laugh, “You're invited, of course.”

Of course.

[1/2]
>>
>>597323

Despite what the news claimed, the storms are yet to show any real sign of abating. If anything, they seem to howling with more ferocity than ever, as if seeking to go out with a blaze of tumultuous glory. Shrinking back into the warmth of your coat, you blindly follow Hyde through the storm. You don't dare look up at the sky, for fear of seeing that leering red moon. If you can't see it, it can't see you. That's how these things work, right?

Clearly in no desire to stay outside any longer than necessary, Hyde forges ahead to the broken window, his shoulders squared against the frigid wind and whirling snow. Pausing only to sweep a few last daggers of glass out of the window frame, he climbs into the abandoned tenement. You follow, grimacing as the smell of death reaches out to you. The breeze flowing through the broken window does nothing to diminish the smell, and you're left wondering it really is a smell at all. Maybe it's something deeper – a stain of sorts, no different to the blood drying to a hard crust here and there.

No matter. You won't be here long enough to worry about stains or scents.

-

Hyde sets down the can of paint and the brush by the window, pushing them aside so that you don't trip over them. “Need those later,” he explains, “When we're finished here, I'll paint a warning on the doors to let the patrols know what to expect.”

Very courteous, you nod, and what about the booze?

“Hunting can be thirsty work,” Hyde replies, his voice deadpan. As he talks, he tugs his coat open and fishes out a rag. With quick, practised motions, he prepares a simple firebomb from the whiskey bottle, testing an old and incredibly battered lighter once that's done. At the sight of a strong, healthy flame, he grunts in satisfaction. “Alright then,” he decides, “Time to find that nest.”

Not that you really need to search for it, of course. The landlord's quarters are still blocked off with a hasty barricade – a good sign – and there's no trace of other beast activity. With the bare minimum noise required, Hyde dismantles the makeshift blockade and sets it aside, opening the door and peering through. The hinges squeal, deafening in the otherwise silent tenement, and you wince. When you hear nothing else, you follow the bloody trail into the landlord's quarters and through the ruined door.

The basement is dark, and the beam from your flashlight seems feeble in comparison. It's bright enough that you can see the ground ahead of you, but that's about it. You won't trip over something in the dark – a small mercy, but a welcome one.

[2/3]
>>
>>597352
We should mention the state of the Landlords room to Anders. Then thank him for not cheaping on the bars like he did the sewers.
>>
>>597352

“This is odd,” Hyde mutters to you as you descent, “Different. I thought the basement level would be same as in your tenement. Maybe they had to built around something. That there...” he points to a short corridor leading to a sealed metal door, “That seems to be the utilities. Furnace, sewer access, whatever. The trail, on the other hand, leads us...”

You follow the dark trail to a broken section of wall, the damage still raw and recent. Tentatively approaching it, you touch the plaster wall and feel some of it damply crumbling away. Age left the wall weak, and the beasts must have torn it down. Beyond the threshold, a far older tunnel reaches down. The walls are bare stone, beaded with a glittering skin of ice.

“Odd. Interesting,” the Hunter stares into the gloom for a moment longer, “An old catacomb, maybe. Not entirely unheard of, but I wasn't expecting to find one here. They're more common in the noble district, I hear.”

Nothing you could comment on, you reply awkwardly, you don't know anything about noble folk.

“Guess you wouldn't,” Hyde snorts out a quiet laugh, “Anyway, no point in sightseeing – let's get a move on.”

Sure, you nod, best not to linger here.

-

The stench of death only grows stronger as you descend, and then the sounds reach you. A heavy ragged sound, the rhythmic growl of laboured breathing, and the occasional wet crunch. Sickened by the overall impact of this awful place, you feel your stomach tighten up painfully. Like you said earlier, best not to linger here.

Upon the first glimpse of it, the pregnant beast doesn't immediately call to mind a wolf or anything of that ilk. No, no matter what it looks like, your first impression is that of a tick – bloated and swollen, fattened to the point of deformity. Its back legs are useless, splayed out and twisted, while its front legs – tipped with almost humanoid hands – are used only for grasping the next meal. Bald and glistening, the skin drawn as tight as a drum, the creature's midsection pulses with terrible life – as though the children were already formed and fighting to escape.

As you stare in revulsion, the beast turns its canine face to you and lets out a low howl, one that is weighed down with pain. The howl ends in a snarl of helpless fury, and you have little doubt that it would be only too happy to tear into you if only you got close enough. It sits on a bed of tangled corpses, gnawed bones mixed in with fresher meat.

With his face set in a grim mask, Hyde takes out his firebomb and prepares his lighter.

[3/4]
>>
>>597372
He's got that, let's stop gawking and keep a look out for the Male like we came to do.
>>
>>597372

“When I throw this, don't stick around for anything,” he warns you, “The smoke could rise quickly, but the fire should burn itself out quickly. Even so, it'll be dangerous to breath the air here.”

It already smells bad enough, you mutter in response, a little danger won't make much of a difference. Grunting out a hard, humourless laugh in response, Hyde sets the lighter flame to the firebomb's wick, then throws the glass bottle into the heart of the beast's nest. Glass shatters, and the hungry flames spread quickly. What started as a low howl ends in a shrieking cry of pain as the flames lap at the beast, consuming its tainted flesh.

“Get out of here, go!” Hyde shouts, turning to run himself, “Stay behind me, but stick close!”

With the smoke already biting at your lungs, you don't waste time arguing.

-

Darkened by the smoke, the air seems to resist your flashlight beam as you hasten back to the surface, and your vision drops to a matter of inches. The thought of running into the second beast down here fills you with a piercing dread and lends extra strength to your legs, giving you a damn good reason to keep running. When the rough stone walls give way to plaster, and the light from ahead starts to filter through, you let out a sigh of relief.

The landlord's quarters, when you reach them once again, seem like a luxurious palace compared with the tomb below, and a sigh of relief escapes you. Laughing in disbelief, as if your desperate flight had been a magnificent game, you follow Hyde out into the lobby.

“Grim business,” the Hunter says, “But it has to be done. If not, we could be-”

Before he can finish his sentence, a fresh howl echoes out through the lobby, and a dark shape, moving fast enough to be a blur, flashes out to drive Hyde down to the floor. His shotgun barks, but the tight wad of shot flies wide of the mark. Before he can load a second shot, the beast is on him and the gun flies from Hyde's hands. Wrestling, he struggles to hold the beast at bay as it tries to close its jaws around his throat.

“Run!” he yells at you, his voice strained with the effort of fighting against the wolf beast, “Just get out of here, go! GO!”

>Follow his orders. Retreat while you have the chance
>Try to help Hyde
>Other
>>
>>597386
>>Try to help Hyde
>>Other
AWW SHIT, TIME TO MAKE LIKE BRUCE LEE AND ENTER THE DRAGON
>>
>>597386
>>Try to help Hyde
>>
>>597386
>>Try to help Hyde
Unload the magazine into it while it's tied up with Hyde.
>>
>>597386
>Try to help Hyde
>Letting our hunter likely die this easily
Lol wot?
>>
>>597386
>Use that dinky pistol
I don't.....THINK we should use the focus point yet, though. No amount of high rolling will kill the beast in one shot, save it incase it starts attacking Lize.
>>
>>597386
>>Try to help Hyde
>leaving our buddy to die
Fuck that, we can totally handle this. Did we bring our super knife? I'd rather not wave around that shotgun on the off chance we blast Hyde away as well. That tiny pistol probably won't do much either.
>>
>>597402
the knife's not very special.
>>
>>597402
Just a mundane knife. And who knows, maybe enough shots of a our little pistol in the same place, preferably the head, can do something.

Maybe.
>>
>>597402
>>597404

>Just to confirm, we have a mundane hunting knife and a fairly small pistol. The shotgun isn't immediately at hand, since it was knocked aside when Hyde dropped it.
>>
>>597404
Yeah but we're pretty decent with it and it's the safest weapon in our hands. Unless we stab blindly we shouldn't do any damage to Hyde.

>>597406
Do we have good aim with that thing?
>>
>>597410
It's pretty close quarters. Honestly we can probably get within less than a meter 'safely' and just open up next to it's head while it's busy trying to kill Hyde.
>>
>>597418
I mean if we're getting that close already might as well try to just stab it in the back or something. I'd say go for the head but maybe that's a bit too much for Lize.
>>
>>597386
>Other

Can we shine our light in its eye's? Animals hate that
>>
>>597423
It's a flashlight, not an electric torch. We might have to get way too close to do that.
>>
>>597386
>Other

Alternate plan, making a bunch of noise and charging the den. It'll chase us instead to protect its young and give Hyde an opening.
>>
>>597423
God damn it now I have this thought of a cute cartoony Lize going up to the beast and flashing the light in it's eyes like she's playing doctor. Not a bad idea but what would happen? Would it actually shy away enough for Hyde to get the gun and shoot it? We could probably kick the gun towards Hyde before we do anything though.
>>
>>597425
Shine the light in its eyes and stab it at the same time? I think it's worth a shot regardless of what we do. Beasts run on instinct, we don't have to blind it just trigger a reaction.

It might also be more sensitive to light since it seems have have been in the dark for a while.
>>
>>597421
I bet that knife fighting manual had in big bold letters on the first page:

'Stab them in the throat'

So I imagine she knows where to put that blade if she can.

Also it's hard to underestimate young girls with knives in Moloch quests. They tend to be incredibly dangerous.
>>
>>597426
into the smoke? putting us in the line of fire if Hyde tries for another shotgun round? I'll pass on that.

>>597432
I think it's not bad, but I'd rather shoot first before trying. Lower its mobility or something before trying a very reaction-intensive maneuver.
>>
>>597427
Well, if Hyde does break free we can shot it to give him some time.

It won't likely kill it but even the noise should once against disorientate it even if we miss. It's encountered guns before after all.

Since it's not wounded, I assume it's been dodging the looters attempts to shoot it.
>>
>>597436
I am not comfortable shooting at it and Hyde while they're together like that.
>>
>>597440
Agreed. Maybe our aim with that toy is pretty damn great, but it just feels like a bad idea. Using the knife is way safer since we'll need to be getting up close anyway.
>>
Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>597443
Oh boy, here we go.
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>597443
>>
>>597436
I say we try to flash the light at its eyes first, if it doesn't work go for the stab and flash the light again. Heck we can just sink the knife on and let it go so we can jump back right away.

If that let's Hyde escape its grasp, then it will be safe to shoot while he grabs grabs the shotgun.

We can magdump since we're just buying time.
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>597443
>>
Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>597443
Well shit.
>>
>>597447
Someone mentioned a focus point right? Is this where we use it?
>>
>>597455
nope, +10 won't save us
>>
>>597447
>>597448
>>597452
>With only a few paces separating you from the beast, you barely need to aim. Just point and shoot, that's all you need to do.

I just had XCOM flash backs.
>>
>>597443
Wait a minute. I just read back and there wasn't any support for shooting being how we would help him!

The heck dude.

It said try to help him, not shoot into a wrestling match.
>>
>>597455
It only gives us 10 so it wouldn't even help.
>>
>>597443
Yeah. Like two people voted shoot.
>>
>>597460
I supported shooting it.
>>
>>597460
2 vs.....2
>>
>>597465
Yeah but everyone else either was still making plans or hadn't decided on anything yet.Shoot had two votes while everything else was pretty split.
>>
Well

>>597434
>>597442
And me makes three against.
>>
>>597473
Well don't worry about it.

If the decision between shooting it or not was really consequential Moloch would have done a vote for it. He's done things like that in the past.

In any regard we missed so we need we'll need to see what happens.
>>
>>597473
He had already begun writing by that point though and that other guy was still in favor of shooting. No problem though, lets just ride this out and see what happens.
>>
>>597469
Well it's written and I loathe retcons, would have been nice to know the vote was called.

Well. Sorry Hyde, turns out knowing how to use a gun and when to use a gun are two different skills.

I mean, even if the beast hurt us nbecause of bad rolls Hyde could still have finished it off.

Instead we shot him. Yaaay.

So do we run now, or grab the shotgun while the beast finishes him off?

Or do we get extra bad end where Hyde loses control and we have to put him down if we stay?
>>
>>597481
None of the above. We miss the shot and get the beasts attention while Hyde punches it to pieces. That's totally a thing right?
>>
>Yes, I apologise for this. I got the wrong impression from reading the discussion. I should have put it to a more specific vote for gun/knife. Give me a moment to think things over, please. I'd rather not retcon anything, but I'm not happy with how I handled this.

>Sorry about this.
>>
>>597481
Dude this is why no one takes you seriously.

You are doomsaying and being a salty bitch the moment things don't go your way.

Listen to my words.

If there was a chance that shooting it would seriously injure or kill Hyde, Moloch would have done another vote for shooting or not just to make things clear. He's always been a pretty fair QM.

So stop bitching and wait for the update.
>>
>>597481
Take. A chill pill.

It's not like Lize is a master knife fighter.
>>
>>597483
Can we just miss the shot and go on to flash and stab?

I'm okay with even taking the hit and not re-rolling.

I mean, even blue dudes plan was to step in and shoot to avoid hitting Hyde.
>>
>>597485
>>597483
I'm too salty of of a bitch I guess to not let this opportunity to say "I told you so" go by.

It's funny, because I explicitly stated that I wasn't going to ask for a retcon or anything because I hate that kind of salt.

Actually, it even also admitted iw was wrong about the gut shot when someone pointed out we dealt with it last thread.

I might not be the most polite person, but don't try to make me seem unreasonable.

I guess if you want you can just ignore or vote against me for stuff out of spite.
>>
>>597493
Just save your bitching until AFTER the next update is posted.

Cause, you know, there is always a chance you are wrong. I know it's hard for you to think that but believe it or not the possibility exists.
>>
>>597501
The only way is if Moloch feels that he jumped the gin and it would be more fair to let us get out of this one.

Like he said in his post he wasn't quite happy with it.

Seriously it would be unreasonable for us to NOT hit Hyde with failing both benchmarks.

And I don't know what you think the result of getting shot in the back while wrestling a beast would be.

But tell me, what do you anticipate happening? Or do you just choose whichever option sounds nicest and trust that Moloch will railroad us through?

Because I don't see that happening.
>>
>>597483
>>597501
Here. I'm linking Molochs post for you again since you seem to keep missing it.
>>
>>597519
>shot in the back
Are they not on the floor or did I read too fast? I'm fine with just rolling with it, not all that different than being outvoted normally so I'm fine with using the gun. Chill out a bit dude, or at the very least don't post so often.
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>597521
> When that light flashes across its eyes, it twists its head away and snarls, pausing in its assault on Hyde for a single, precious second.

> A chance to shoot, without fear of hitting the Hunter – a fleeting chance, but you'll take it in both hands. With only a few paces separating you from the beast, you barely need to aim. Just point and shoot, that's all you need to do.

Yeah they're rolling around. As in, moving.

Hopefully shining the flashlight in the beasts eyes is enough justification for us missing Hyde.

The problem is, that they're still moving around on the floor, so it would be a risk regardless.

Like let's say Hyde has rolls. He's rolling to throw the beast off him and get up.

He succeeds because they beast flinched away from the light, now he's getting up an is in our target zone
>>
>>597386
>flashes out to drive Hyde down to the floor
I saw it as them wrestling on the floor. We got a clear shot since we stunned it for a sec so Hyde could push it's head away or something.
>>
>>597538
>>597521
And I only post what I'm given. Dude wants to start bitching at me I'll bitch back.

Anyways, see? The roll could be taken to mean Hyde failed and stayed down.

Or Moloch has a different plan, IDK man not like there's a severe rolling shortage.
>>
>>597538
>> A chance to shoot, without fear of hitting the Hunter
>>
>>597544
I really fucking hate apologizing.

I'm sorry. I'll try to tone it down. I read that as a chance to not hit him,not that there was no chance to hit him.

I guess I can be slightly mollified that my flashlight idea worked and slightly irritated that it made me be wrong. So many feelings.
>>
>First of all, an explanation. I deleted the original post just in case I wanted to rewrite it from scratch. However, I won't be discarding the dice roll – I'm proceeding as though we missed, just as the results dictated. Again, I apologise for handling this section so badly, and all the delays it created. The next post will be up in a minute.
>>
Blinking away your hesitation – a fragment of a second never felt so long – you hear, understand, and promptly discard Hyde's yelled order. You're not leaving him here to die – you came here armed, prepared to fight if needed, and you're damn well going to fight!

Tearing open your coat – you hear, with a kind of detached fascination, something ripping – you pull out your pistol. It's not much, you know that, but it doesn't have to be. Anything that gets the bastard off Hyde is good enough for now, you can improvise the rest once you've got that beast at a distance.

The feel of the pistol in your grip is familiar, strangely calming, and the motion of clicking off the safety comes naturally to you. The flashlight is still heavy in your other hand, and when you bring it up to point in the beast's direction, the wavering beam reveals how badly your hands are shaking. In the flickering light, you see knots of tangled hair, crusted with old blood and filth, with lumpen muscles surging beneath it. When that light flashes across its eyes, it twists its head away and snarls, pausing in its assault on Hyde for a single, precious second.

A chance to shoot, without fear of hitting the Hunter – a fleeting chance, but you'll take it in both hands. With only a few paces separating you from the beast, you barely need to aim. Just point and shoot, that's all you need to do.

-

Aiming isn't the problem. Even hitting the damn thing isn't a problem. Just as you feared, the light pistol barely seems to trouble the beast, only drawing its attention to you. Turning to face you, its eyes narrowed into thin slits against the beam of your light, the beast lets out a hiss of raw malice. With Hyde forgotten, for now at least, it stalks towards you, scuttling in a loose circle as if toying with you. It moves like a spider, you think as you drop the pistol's magazine and reach for a fresh one.

As the fiend circles you, you call out to Hyde and listen for a response. His answer is faint, the words slurred into a vague jumble, but at least there IS a response. He's not dead yet, but you have no way of knowing what kind of shape he's in. He could be hurt, dying, anything. It's only for a second, but you take your eyes from the circling beast and glance across at him. For a split-second, you catch a glimpse of him struggling to rise, and then something crashes into you, knocking you sprawling and pinning you with its weight. A sharp animal stink washes over you, paired with the smell of blood, as the beast attacks. Disarmed when you fell, you have only one thing available to you.

Your knife.

>Calling for a physical combat roll. 1D100+5, aiming to beat 60/80. Best of the first three results.
>>
Rolled 7 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>597609
Sounds good to me. Don't beat yourself up too much Moloch, maybe extend the vote a little if you see people trying to draw up a plan and such.

>>597610
>>
Rolled 74 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>597610
>>
Rolled 93 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>597610
>>
>>597615
WITNESSED
>>
>>597615
Whoa, Shit
>>
File: Tsorig.jpg (118 KB, 637x961)
118 KB
118 KB JPG
As you scrabble for the knife thrust into your belt, you feel a desperate strength welling up within you, matched by a strange – almost unnamable – feeling. It is as though the world is retreating, pulling back until you're left at a more comfortable distance, a passive observer in your own body. Even when the beast's claw catches your cheek and draws blood, you barely feel it. You understand the concept of a stinging pain in your face, but that's as far as it gets. A concept, an idea.

The only thing that feels real right now is the knife in your hand, a weight that has grown familiar in the space of a short few days. Yet, even as you draw the knife free and turn its wicked point upon the beast, your thoughts keep retreating – fleeing down a long, dark corridor and taking your consciousness with them.

In the time it takes to blink, you're somewhere else.

-

Rough cheers, little more than base animal cries, reach your refined ears, and the sound of them turns your stomach. Standing in a solemn line with your fellow Knights, you watch the spectacle unfolding before you and endure the boorish howls from the ranks of human slaves opposite. Between you, King Leonhard and the bastard Tsorig circle each other, trading a few weak blows as if testing the waters. Leonhard wields his great sword with ease and grace, swinging it in wide arcs, while Tsorig keeps his pair of knives close.

Leonhard is the one to make the first real attack, a vicious jab that could have pierced the full length of Tsorig's body with ease – had it connected. Moving like oil, Tsorig slides to the side and lets the vast sword cleave through the empty air. He slashes up with a knife, but the thick armour your king wears blocks it. They part, and return to circling one another. This sight – Leonhard's magnificent swordplay fooled by cowardice and sly tactics – continues for a while longer, and you see an irrational rage entering the king's face.

A mistake. Knights should not allow themselves irrational feelings. A sinking feeling – your own little indulgence – begins to form in your stomach.

Then, a break in the endless circling – Tsorig, already exhausted, stumbles and drops low. Roaring aloud, silencing even the human slaves, Leonhard heaves his sword up into a great overhead swing, bringing it down towards his fallen opponent. A subtle smile touches your lips as the blow crashes down, splintering the fine tiles beneath and casting up a cloud of dust. Leaning forwards, you hungrily await the sight of Tsorig's shattered body.

[1/2]
>>
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>>597670

The little bastard live yet, dashing from the cloud of dust with more haste than you thought possible. Drawing on reserves of stamina you thought long since drained, he must have slipped the noose at the last second. Now, the tide has turned and the way is clear for him to make his move. Still low, scrabbling on the ground, he circles behind Leonhard and plunges one of his daggers home, punching into the back of the king's knee and bringing your ruler low. As Leonhard bellows out in pain, Tsorig reaches up to finish the fight.

With a victorious cry, and an insulting ease, Tsorig drags the edge of his second blade across Leonhard's throat, spilling your king's lifeblood out onto the tiles of his own palace floor. Choking, nerveless hands fumbling at his wound, Leonhard collapses forwards. His armour makes a tremendous crash as it hits the stone floor, sounding like the death knell of your great society.

And so ends the age of Knights, you murmur to yourself.

-

The smell of blood – Leonhard's blood, you think deliriously – is heavy in the air when you wake up. Crying out, you sit upright and... wait, no. This is no palace, no ritual duelling ground, and you're not a Knight. This is the lobby of dingy Thar Dreyse tenement block, and you're just a girl – albeit one with the blood of Knights flowing through your veins. There was a beast, a wolf, and...

“Henryk taught you well,” Hyde says, from the distance. His voice is gruff, and his face is pale. When you simply stare at him in confusion, he nods to a lumpen shape in the gloom. The source, you realise, of that blood stink.

The beast has been gutted, slit clean open, and beheaded for good measure. The head lies neatly beside the body, with your hunting knife buried in the thing's forehead.

Did you... do that?

“Aye, you did,” Hyde nods after a silent moment, “Don't you remember?”

No, you pause and swallow heavily, you guess your training just took over. Heat of the moment, that kind of thing. That happens, right?

“Sometimes, aye,” the Hunter nods again, this time more reluctantly, “You sure you're okay, girl?”

>I'll be fine later. I just need a rest
>Never mind me, what about you?
>I'm scared. Did I really do that?
>Other
>>
>>597672
>Never mind me, what about you?

Goddamn. Dragons are no joke.
>>
>>597672
>>Never mind me, what about you?
I'm still mad that Tsorig wins. My tendency to use great swords gets me real attached to Leonhard.
>>
>>597672
>Never mind me, what about you?
>>
>>597672
>>Never mind me, what about you?
>>
>>597670
>>597672
bruh... fucking chills m8.
Moloch idk how many times i can say it but your writing and this quest
>420/69

>ask hyde if hes good
>find out what the dragon did
>>
You stare at the beast's head for a moment longer, gazing into its dead eyes and swallowing down a wave of bile. Never mind how you are, you murmur, how is he doing? That beast hit him pretty hard, and he sounded out of it for a moment.

“I'll need a few bandages when we get back – that bastard cut up my arms pretty badly – but it spared my throat. I'll live,” Hyde rises from his cautious crouch – how long had he been sitting there, watching you as you... slept, recovered? - and helps you to your feet. As he reaches out to you, you see the angry red marks on his arms, and the blood splattered on his sleeves. The thick coat must have taken some of the damage, at least. His eyes though, even as he helps you up, are strangely wary.

You've managed to unnerve the Hunter. The thought causes a sickened laugh to escape you, and the sound of it only makes Hyde look more uncertain. Drawing in a shaky breath, you force yourself back into a kind of calm – something that comes close to imitating normality. That seems enough to convince Hyde that you're okay – that, or it menaces him into dropping the subject – and he gives you a firm, decisive nod. As he's moving away from you, you reach down and yank the blade from the beast's head.

It takes almost all of your strength to do so - how much force did it take to put the blade there in the first place?

-

As Hyde is getting the can of paint and brush ready, you can't help but ask a tentative question. What did... what exactly did you do to that beast?

Frowning, Hyde turns to give you a look of careful scrutiny. You don't know what he reads in your face, but he speaks up regardless. “I was a little out of it, but I could see well enough. First, you put the knife in its gut and tore upwards. You might want a change of clothes later, now I think about it.”

You look down at the blood besmirching your clothes and wince.

“Then, as it was pulling back, you stuck the knife through its throat. That probably killed it, though you can't always be sure, but I guess Henryk taught you to make sure,” a grimace touches Hyde's face, “Once it had fallen, you took to sawing its head off the rest of the way, then you speared it with the blade.”

Shit, you murmur as you take in his blunt description, just... shit.

“I know it sounds excessive, but you've got to be sure,” the Hunter shrugs, “I've seen men cut open by dying beasts they assumed were harmless. Take the head, and you know the thing won't be getting back up. Was it your first time? It's not uncommon for the first time to be messy.”

You've heard as much, you reply in a deadpan voice.

Pausing a moment to think his words over, Hyde snorts out an involuntary laugh and shakes his head. The tension, at last, starts to fade.

[1/2]
>>
>>597713
So uh. How much can we expect hunters to know about the qualities of other bloodlines? I don't think Hyde will push it regardless but I think that we might have tipped our hand a little too much to sincerely claim it's just hunters blood or something.

Not saying we shouldn't stick to our story, but it could be awkward if he hears about the reward for us and connects that we weren't quite what he would wexpect from a Hunter bloodline.

AAlso great writing as always.
>>
>>597713
>Shit, you murmur as you take in his blunt description, just... shit.
Dragon Lize best girl. Absolutely brutal.
>>
>>597727

>Knowledge of the other bloodlines is pretty variable. It's not something that's officially taught, even if information - and misinformation - is fairly widespread. The Dragon's Blood is the most secretive, though, so hard knowledge on what to expect might be hard to find. Regardless, you have a point - speculation can lead places.
>>
>>597746
Ergh. Well I'd rather he think that instead that we're corrupted with witchcraft or unstable or something.

I mean, the problem with a corrupted person is they can act like a great person until they betray you.

Hopefully he knows a bit about Dragons and doesn't a bask around and start to think that Henryk is covering us so he can keep an eye on us.

Actually, are there unstable inheritors? I just kind of assumed there would be the odd one here and there. And since Wolf blood causes berserking behaviour, would it be a good idea to intimate that you might have slightly different blood than normal Hunters. It's technically the truth!
>>
>>597767
Or...

He'll just think we were trained well by Henryk and Wolf's Blood is starting to stir.

I think we are fine anon. He isn't some Minister that'll start launching a huge inquiry.
>>
>>597767

>There are anomalies, in terms of the bloodlines, but they are rare. In those cases, what you'd typically see is the later life symptoms - berserk behaviour, in Hunters - appearing much earlier.
>Next post should be up soon, if this actually lets me post. Tech troubles are hitting me hard at the moment.
>>
Conversation dies as you head outside, the wind stealing away all but the loudest shout. As Hyde dips his brush into the paint, you pull back your hood and let the cold air tousle your hair. Snowflakes first cling to your face and then melt, the icy water tricking down your collar. Rubbing the water into your face until your skin is raw and aching, you finally feel a faint peace descending over you. Shaking drops of water free, you pull up your hood and turn back to Hyde. In block letters, he paints a warning onto the tenement doors.

NO SURVIVORS – BODIES INSIDE – CONTAMINATION RISK

A blunt warning, but one that gets the point across. One that might keep away further looters as well, but that might be a futile hope. Trading a nod with Hyde, you return to your own building.

-

“Hell, I'm tired,” the Hunter says, his first words upon closing the front doors behind him, “I feel like I could sleep for a week – might be, I'll owe your landlord some rent by the time I wake up.” His joke feels forced and phoney, but you smile at it regardless. Hyde lingers for a moment longer, and then he speaks up again. “You reminded me of something, actually,” he begins, “There's history to taking a beast's head, it's not just practicality. I don't know the exact story, but it's some kind of symbol. Wishing disgrace upon a defeated enemy, I think. Something reserved for beasts and other lowly things.”

Yeah, you say without thinking your words over, they put the severed heads of rebellious slaves up on pikes back then.

“Slaves?” Hyde frowns, “What are you talking about?”

Nothing, you reply hastily, just a slip of the tongue. You're tired as well.

“I'm not surprised,” that uncertain look is back in Hyde's eyes as he nods, “Go get some rest. I wager things are under control here.”

Without further delay, you take the chance to make your escape. As you start up the staircase, you pass a pair of the other residents – their names unknown and their faces forgettable – and they shy away from you. It's only when you're back in your apartment and you glance in the mirror that you realise why.

The blood, of course, darkening your clothes and hanging over you like a stinking shroud. You'd be afraid too, if you saw something like that walking down the street.

-

With fresh clothes and a hot cup of tea steaming in front of you, you're starting to feel human once again. Alyssia fusses around in her little kitchen, searching for something good to eat – anything that doesn't come out of a can, in other words. Cake would be ideal, but that might be asking a little too much. Regardless, the simple domestic scene does much to calm your nerves.

They certainly needed calming – Alyssia's too, after hearing your version of events.

[2/3]
>>
>>597781

“They might be a little old,” Alyssia warns you as she sets down a plate of dry looking biscuits, “But I've heard that these kinds of biscuits last forever. I tasted one earlier, they're not bad. Nothing to write home about – so to speak – but they'll eat.”

Thanking her, you take one and bite into it, nearly shattering your teeth in the process. Giving the thing a suspicious look, you set it aside and wash away the crumbs with a sip of tea. As you lift the cup to your lips, you see a faint fleck of blood still clinging to one fingernail. Damn, you think to yourself, you were certain that you got it all off. Wiping your hand on your trousers with as much discretion as you can manage, you give Alyssia a weak smile.

“Oh, Katrina stopped by earlier. She was looking for Hyde,” Alyssia mentions as she sits opposite you, “She seemed a little... bothered.”

She always seems bothered by something, you reply, it probably wasn't anything personal.

“Well, she said she had something to apologise for, but she wouldn't say anything more than that,” Alyssia continues, “And then, just when she was leaving, she said that the whole thing had been a mistake, and that she shouldn't have said anything. I'm really not quite sure what to make of it all.”

You had come here hoping to relax and take in a little bit of meaningless conversation – Alyssia is a good source of that, you've found – but this sounds like something more than a meeting with an erratic woman. Needless to say, it has your interest piqued.

“So, as I said, I'm a little puzzled by the whole affair,” Alyssia shrugs it off, dipping one of those granite biscuits in her tea for a while to soften it up, “What would you suggest?”

What, you ask, she's coming to you for advice?

“You've spoken with Katrina, haven't you?” the northerner asks, “You might know more about this matter than I do.”

>I'll have a word with her, she might open up to me
>I guess tell Hyde about it. She wanted to talk to him, after all
>This is really none of my businesses, I'm afraid
>Other
>>
>>597785
>>I'll have a word with her, she might open up to me
>>
>>597785
>I'll have a word with her, she might open up to me
>>
>>597785
>I'll have a word with her, she might open up to me
>>
>>597785
>>I'll have a word with her, she might open up to me
Suspicious.
>>
Looking down into your cup, you think things over. Even after talking with her, you're not quite sure what to make of Katrina. You're not a bad judge of character – at least, you'd like to think so – but you just can't get a read on her. Normally, that means she's hiding something.

Not that you really have any room to talk about hiding things, but still. Set a thief to catch a thief, or so they say.

You'll have a word with her, you tell Alyssia, she might open up to you. Last time you spoke, she seemed like she had something she wanted to get off her chest, and this might be the prompting she needs to share the rest of it.

“Well, I appreciate the help, but I can't help but wonder...” Alyssia frowns a little, curiosity and discretion warring within her, “This does feel a little like getting between two people, doesn't it? I rather hope it isn't personal, whatever it is that's going on between the two of them. I wouldn't want to be...”

What, you ask, setting her sights on a taken man?

“Eliza Hanson!” Alyssia, scandalised, cries out, “You... I... You've got entirely the wrong idea about all this!”

Your cup of tea is the perfect thing to hide your smug smile.

-

Katrina is at the lobby when you arrive, not yet in her usual place by the window. Judging by the small plate of food she holds – barely enough of a meal to keep a sparrow alive – she was away when you arrived back with Hyde. Locking eyes with her, you offer a welcoming smile, one that Katrina struggles to match. She's trying, she really is.

A shame, then, that it just makes her look like a bad liar.

“I heard the news,” she begins, “On the radio, I mean. Do you think they were telling the truth? I read somewhere that these weather predictions aren't always perfectly accurate, and...”

It doesn't matter if they're a day or two off target, you assure her, it'll be fine. It's nothing she needs to worry about.

“I'm, uh, not very good at that,” Katrina lets out a shrill laugh, “Not worrying, I mean.”

You're starting to notice that. Offering her a shrug and a vague smile in response, saying nothing until she seems more at ease, you look out the window as she eats. From inside, the storm doesn't look nearly so bad – almost comforting, in a way.

“So, uh...” Katrina follows your gaze, watching the snow fluttering on the wind, “I heard you went out with Hyde, earlier.”

She heard right, you reply. When she falls silent again, you realise that this might be a very long conversation. Sighing inwardly, you prepare yourself for the long haul.

[1/2]
>>
>>597816
>Your cup of tea is the perfect thing to hide your smug smile.
If I had any skill I would find an image of Lize and shop a smug cup onto her.
>>
>>597816

“Is he okay?” the anxious woman asks suddenly, the words spilling out of her mouth, “I mean, I know that you shouldn't strain yourself after a bump on the head and really, it was more than a bump he got, wasn't it?” Her face twists as she says this, wincing at the thought of violence. “It's not fair, what happened to him, not after he's worked so hard. I heard that he's been talking with your landlord, handling the details and settling their differences. Is that true?”

It's true, you confirm, you can't tell her all the details but it's not going to be a problem. Everyone is happy now, and a peaceful future awaits. That last part might be laying it on a little thick, but Katrina seems to appreciate it.

“I was worried, when we arrived, that he might...” she trails off, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment, “That he might upset things here. His claim on authority, you know? I thought that if he started to kick up a fuss, your landlord might have thrown us out. That's what I was told, at least...”

Someone said that they might get thrown out, you ask, if Hyde started to make noise about taking power?

“It was just a rumour – just gossip, I mean – but that's what I heard,” Katrina nods decisively, “Maybe it's not such a bad thing that Hyde got hurt then, is it? I mean, if it meant he didn't push things too far...” Her eyes widen suddenly. “Ah! But I didn't mean it was a good thing that happened, it was awful! It was awful, and I wish I'd never...”

She finishes there, leaving you nothing but a drawn out silence to interpret.

>You wish you never what?
>Katrina, do you recall where you heard that gossip?
>Is there anything you want to tell me?
>I had a question, if you don't mind... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>597845
>Is there anything you want to tell me?
>>
>>597845
>>Katrina, do you recall where you heard that gossip?
>>Is there anything you want to tell me?
She doesn't seem like the type to go around throwing bottles at people's heads.
>>
>>597845
>>Katrina, do you recall where you heard that gossip?
Thomas?
>>
>>597845
>Is there anything you want to tell me?
>Katrina, do you recall where you heard that gossip?
>>
>>597845
> you wish you never wut?
> who has been spreading shit?
Fucking Thomas stirring shit again and she hit Hyde over the head with a bottle.
>>
>>597845
>>Katrina, do you recall where you heard that gossip?
>>Is there anything you want to tell me?
>>
When the silence draws out for longer still, you speak up in a hushed voice. What is it, you ask carefully, she wishes she never what?

It takes a long time for Katrina to answer, but when she does her voice is serene – calmer than you've ever heard before. “Do you know what the Ministry does, when they come across an infectious outbreak? It's not pleasant – it's brutal work, and the collateral damage is often great – but it has to be done. Otherwise, the contagion would spread and the damage would be far greater. Sometimes, a sacrifice has to be made – you understand that, don't you?”

You understand that, you tell her. What you don't tell her, what you think to yourself, is that you don't always agree with the idea.

“A little harm can do a lot of good,” Katrina whispers, smiling slightly, “If it means keeping order, keeping us all safe, and if nobody dies...”

If safety for all comes at the cost of a little harm – say, a man being struck by a thrown bottle – it makes the idea of that small sacrifice a lot easier to accept. In theory, at least – in truth, such deeds are often accompanied by their own weight. Guilt, regret and uncertainty can be poisonous, especially with no way of casting off their burden. Katrina saw Hyde as a poor leader, and possibly one that would lead to her exile from her safe haven. Under such circumstances, is it not possible that even someone as mild as her might be moved to violence? The more you think on the theory, the more likely it seems.

Katrina, you ask mildly, is there anything she wants to tell you? Perhaps she did something that she feels bad about, something she regrets doing? Something, you add after a long pause, that might have ended up in someone getting hurt?

“Oh lord,” she whispers, “I knew someone would guess. I'm not a good liar, I never have been, I thought maybe if I just stayed away from everyone, it need never come to light. Only... it's not good to keep this to myself, is it? Better just to face responsibility for my actions than to sit here going mad because of them!”

She did it then, you ask, she threw that bottle at Hyde?

“I did. I had the best of all intentions, but...” drawing in a shuddering breath, Katrina shakes her head, “But I still did it.”

She doesn't cry, then, but the way she stares off into empty space is just as bad. Worse, maybe.

[1/2]
>>
>>597915

The gossip that started this all, you ask when some semblance of life has returned to her eyes, where did she hear it from? Can she recall who she heard it from?

“A name. Oh,” Katrina's voice is low, flat, and a far cry from her usual nervous mania, “I don't know the people here, I'm afraid. Not by name, and just barely by sight. I fear I'll be little use here, but... but I'm used to that. Not being of use to anyone.”

How quickly self pity can turn to melodrama. Rubbing a hand across your brow, you trust your instincts and ask for clarification. If she can't give you a name, you ask, can she give you a description? Any notable features that stuck in her mind?

“Well, he was very neat. Very nicely dressed,” a small smile touches Katrina's lips, “Handsome too, I think. Men look their best in suits and ties, don't you think? He was nice to me, I was sure that I could trust him. He said... he said he was worried about me, that he wanted me to stay here.”

There's only one man around here that wears a suit and tie, even in these dire times, and he's exactly the kind of man to be spreading poisonous words - Thomas Mercer.

And Katrina's wrong about him. He's not nice, and he's not trustworthy. He's not even that handsome.

>I think I'll pause things here for today. I'll wrap this thread up tomorrow, and I can stick around in case of any questions. Again, I apologise for the mistakes and delays today, it's been far from ideal.
>Regardless, thanks to everyone who's stuck with it today
>>
>>597934
Thanks for running Moloch.

Is Hyde able to take Thomas into custody for sowing dissent and sabotage? The Ministry seems very no tolerance policy for criminals.
>>
>>597934
>He's not even that handsome.
And what would you call handsome young lady? Hmm?
>>
>>597953

As the local authority figure, Hyde would have the right to take Thomas into custody - ultimately, without needing to name any specific charges. Under emergency circumstances like this, League members have pretty wide ranging powers to keep the peace.
Of course, custody would basically just be house arrest at the moment, but still

>>597954

Oh, someone a little more wolfish, I imagine!
>>
>>597934
Thanks for running Moloch. The session got a bit bumpy for a bit but the quest itself was as good as it always is.
Thomas is a snake, corrupting poor Katrina like that. Though the reasoning behind her actions is pretty well justified. We should probably keep it to ourselves that she tossed the bottle huh? Or would it be better for her to come clean and face the music?
>>
>>597975
She should probably come clean to Hyde. We can go with her to clear the air and from there just put Thomas on house arrest. This is getting out of hand.
>>
>>597975

I see Katrina as someone who did have good intentions, even if she doesn't really think too much about things.
As with Thomas, though, the duty of pressing charges would lie with Hyde - unless Katrina decided to turn herself in.
>>
>>597767
We can only hope that Hyde will just ask Henryk to have Lize's blood testing again for Wolf's Blood, instead of personally coming to witness the test.

The deception only needs to last long enough for all 12 to be dead/a cure to be found. After that.....the nobles have enough clout to shut people up anyway.

>>597934
I want to say I called it, but I only said that Thomas did it, not that it was indirect or anything.

But does this mean that Thomas took out the power? How does he know about electronics that well?
>>
>>598088

Well, I can't explain too much about Thomas' motivations or exactly how involved he was, but I expect we'll get the chance to ask him a few questions tomorrow. Not a very good answer, I know, but it's the best I can offer without spoilers and such.
>>
>>598110
I'd like to get Irina some work to do. I'm sure Anders could come up with heaps of bullshit to keep her busy.

Make her feel more a part of the community.
>>
Violence, you're starting to think, is a very strange thing. A woman like Katrina might never strike a man if she had to look them in the eyes while she did it, but with a surging mob giving her the cover to do so, anything becomes possible. It's contagious, as well, with the fury of the rioting crown pushing her to lunatic ideas that might never, had she been in her right mind, have occurred to her.

Of course, those ideas would have never been there in the first place, if the seeds hadn't been planted by a very specific gentleman. You're going to need to have a few words with Thomas – hard words, and if the dragon lurking in the back of your mind feels like adding a few words of its own then... well, so be it. You can't exactly say that he doesn't deserve it. Just as you're about to go and do something – you're not sure what, yet, but you feel the need to act – Katrina catches you by the arm.

“I have no right to ask this of you, I know, but...” her voice is small, but not without hope, “Hyde. I'd like the chance to tell him myself, when I'm ready. I'm prepared to take whatever punishment I'm given – it'll be a relief to get it over with, you know?”

She's really prepared to turn herself in, you ask, even knowing how badly things might work out for her?

“I've made up my mind,” hope changes to resolve, and Katrina's eyes take on a rare focus, “I'll spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder if I don't do this now. That's a kind of punishment in its own way, don't you think?”

Maybe so, you think, maybe there are some things that people can't escape from. You're starting to realise that yourself, with your bloodline and its dark inheritance drawing you back towards your family. You could run to the northernmost part of the land, and you wouldn't be able to cast aside your heritage. That's your burden, and Katrina has her own.

“Excuse me,” she asks, touching your shoulder, “I'm sorry, it's too much to ask of you. You're young, it's not fair that I should force this decision on you. As I've said, I'll confess to Hyde personally, I just need a little more time. It'll be done before the storm is over, I promise. All I ask is that-”

Later, you tell her, you'll decide later. You've got some serious thinking to do.

-

Katrina is also lost in thought when you leave her, silent words occasionally forming on her lips as she considers her confession. No doubt that her careful preparations will be forgotten when the time comes, but if these rehearsals make her feel better... so be it. You've got your own preparations to take care of.

To start with, your preparations have brought you here – to Anders' door.

[1/2]
>>
>>601187

“Heard you were helping the Hunter with cleaning things up over the road,” Anders grunts as he waves you into his quarters, the sullen truce between you extending to a kind of hospitality, “Suppose you must have done a good job of it, since you both came back. You put up a warning for the Ministry folk, didn't you?”

Painted across the front door, you tell him, so they know what to expect.

“Aye, that's good. I gripe and complain about them, true, but the Ministry does good work. Dangerous work, mind, done for the good of the people. Folks like us have a duty to help how we can,” he frowns, “Least, we can not make things harder for them. How was it, over there?”

It was bad – pretty damn bad. The bars on their windows were broken, you mention after a moment, the metal was old and sorely in need of a repair. Not like the bars he put over the windows here – that's one thing he got right.

“Good security – the sort that folks can see and trust, at least - is worth every penny,” Anders almost seems pleased about this, that his building succeeded where another failed, “And it helps folk sleep at night, knowing that the windows and what not are taken care of. Anyway, I... oh, wait. Your Hunter friend stopped by earlier, left something here for you to pick up.” Grumbling to himself, Anders rummages in a drawer and pulls out your pistol, pushing it across to you. “You dropped it, he said, and he forgot to give it back to you at the time.”

Yeah, you reply as you take your gun back, you're not surprised that it slipped his mind. Things got a little... confused.

“Huh, whatever,” Anders grunts, “Anyway, I figure you're not here to blab about bars and windows, so what is it? Don't rightly think you're here for my company neither.”

No, you admit, you've got your own reasons for coming here. It's about your mutual friend Thomas.

“That bastard Mercer?” the landlord's eyes narrow, “Not heard a peep out of him for a while now, I figure maybe he found a more interesting game to play. What's your interest in him, then?”

>I think he had something to do with that little riot
>He talked Katrina into throwing that bottle at Hyde
>I'm just looking to talk. What's his room number?
>I'm curious about him. Has he ever given you trouble before?
>Other
>>
>>601190
>I think he had something to do with that little riot
>He was spreading rumors and riling people up.
>I'm curious about him. Has he ever given you trouble before?
>I'm just looking to talk. What's his room number?
>>
>>601190
>I think he had something to do with that little riot
>I'm curious about him. Has he ever given you trouble before?
>>
>>601190
>>I'm curious about him. Has he ever given you trouble before?
>I think he had something to do with that little riot
"Thinking back on it he didn't panic like everyone else did during the outage. In fact the first thing he did was make sure to point out to me that the other tenement building still had power, implying sabotage and betrayal. Which in turn riles people up, myself included.

I'm not sure how he was able to sabotage the fuse box while being in the lobby but he could of done something beforehand. Remember he wasn't trading in the lobby like everyone else, he was sneaking around trying to break into people's rooms."

>What's his room number?
>>
>>601236
supporting
>>
What the fuck is with this Thomas faggot?

Like he acts suspicious, acts all mysterious, stands out like a sore thumb and does malicious divisive shit. He's acting chaotic stupid right now.

I mean my best idea is he is somehow working with the beasts and that's why he's fucking with shit.
>>
Considering your answer for a moment, you decide not to show your cards straight away. Depending on how helpful Anders is, you'll share what you think is worth sharing. With that plan in place, you adopt a clearer, more neutral tone and ask your first question. You're curious about him, you begin, has he ever been any trouble before?

“Always paid his rent on time, never complained about it going up,” Anders considers the issue for a moment, “Mercer... he's up on the third floor, isn't he? We did have a small spot of trouble a while ago, but I never tied him to it. Some folks left their doors unlocked, and there were signs of someone poking around their quarters while they were away. Some small bits of thieving as well, but not what you'd expect to be taken. Whoever it was, they didn't take much in the way of cash or valuables – just little things. Ornaments, like, or trinkets. I put a notice up, folks made sure to lock their doors, and it all stopped. Never did catch someone for it, but now I get to thinking...”

It sounds like him, you suggest, his kind of behaviour. Strange, though, that he didn't go looking for valuables.

“Some folks, they steal for the thrill of it. Make a game out of it, like,” the landlord sniffs in disdain, “Bastards. Some folk have too much time on their hands. Might be, you do too if you're just following a curiosity... but I wager there's something more to it than that. I've told you a fair story, so how about you pay me back in kind?”

Well, he's got a point there – he gave you something to think about, so you've got no reason to hold back. First off, you tell the old man, you're starting to think he had something to do with that riot earlier. Spreading rumours and getting people worked up, for one thing. It would have been easy for him to lay down some speculation and get everyone panicking over shortages. When the riot came to a head, he didn't panic either – the first thing he did was point out the neighbouring tenement, and how it still had power. His implication was sabotage, and that only served to raise the tensions further.

“Wait a minute,” Anders' eyes narrow to thin slits, “Are you trying to say that he started that riot?”

You're not sure you'd go that far, you hesitate for a moment, but you're saying that he had something to do with it. That power failure was just too convenient, coming at just the right time. You're not sure how he managed to pull that off, without tampering with the fusebox directly, but if he did something beforehand...

“Sneaking into my quarters,” the old man curses quietly, “Messing with my things...”

Exactly.

[1/2]
>>
>>601291
Might be a ministry agent trying to dig up dirt on witches or Henryk.
>>
>>601292

When his outrage has cooled down to a simmer, Anders looks you dead in the eye. “So?” he asks, “You've got something planned, don't you? Your kind always does.”

You're not quite sure what he means by that - “your kind”? - but you're not even sure if you want to know. It's probably something unpleasant, whatever it is. Pushing the issue aside, you force a calm smile onto your face. You're just looking to talk to him, you say, see what he has to say for himself. What's his room number, then?

“Let me think...” Anders lurches away into another room and clatters about for a moment. Returning a moment later, he has a conniving look on his face - like he has something planned as well. “Third floor, room seven,” he tells you, “And you might want this. I don't know what you're planning, but I figure you might not want to give him the courtesy of a knock.” Reaching over, the landlord places a small metal key beside you, the number seven engraved into it. “I'll want that back though,” he warns, “And no getting up to no good with it, you hear?”

You'll be as good as gold, you promise, he won't have anything to worry about – not from you, at least.

“Huh, I just bet,” sounding less than convinced, Anders grunts and turns away from you, “One last thing. That little gun of yours... I don't want any shooting in my building. No putting holes in the walls, you understand? Else, your brother will be the one getting the repair bill.”

Again, you think of the money Henryk had stashed away and hide a smile. Still, he has a point – any gunfire might well cause a panic. If you can help it, you assure Anders, you'll keep the noise down.

“Well, whatever,” the landlord waves an impatient hand in your direction, “On you go then, stop wasting my time!”

>Head up to confront Thomas
>Ask a few more questions... (Write in)
>Do something else first (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>601313
>>Do something else first (Write in)
Go grab our knife if we aren't carrying it already
>>
>>601313
>>Do something else first (Write in)
Go get Hyde and so we can make this an official League House Arrest.

Then
>Head up to confront Thomas
>>
Anders sounds more and more like that cunt Hannibal, the madness dialled down of course.
>>
You're in no desperate rush to confront Thomas – where, after all, is he going to run to? - so you can afford to spend a little extra time on preparing yourself. No sense in rushing in, especially if it leaves you vulnerable later. First things first, you want to get something from your room.

Anders warned against using your pistol, but he didn't say anything about taking a knife along.

As you're heading up the stairs, you pause at the third floor and glance down the corridor. It's empty, and the only noises that you can hear are the muffled sounds of radios playing behind closed doors. A perfectly innocent scene, with nothing to suggest that it might be anything else. Nodding to yourself, satisfied with what you see, you hurry up the few remaining flights of stairs to the seventh floor. You're on the seventh floor, Thomas is in apartment seven. Strange how these things works out.

Letting yourself in to Henryk's apartment, you have to think a moment before remembering where you left your knife. It's lying in the bathroom sink, left over from when you were scrubbing it clean. Taking it from the stained porcelain bowl – still faintly pink from all the blood – you weigh it in your hand for a moment. If you have to use it again, you ask yourself silently, and this time on another human being... could you really do it?

And the answer, when it comes, chills you. Maybe not, you think grimly, but “you” might not the one that makes the decision.

-

With the knife snug against your hip, you knock lightly on Alyssia's door. If anyone knows where Hyde is, it'll be her. You just hope you're not interrupting anything. The witch is fully dressed when she answers the door – a good sign – and you spy Hyde sitting in the dimly lit room beyond. Apologising for your timing, you ask Hyde to step outside for a moment. You need to borrow him for a moment, you tell Alyssia, that's all. Not a big deal.

“Eliza. You're looking better. Amazing what a good wash can do for a person,” Hyde offers you a faint smile, his eyes dropping to the knife at your hip for a split second, “This isn't a social call, is it?”

It might be, you reply, depending on how he defines the term. You're going to be talking to someone soon, and he might want to come along.

“Mysterious. Okay, you've got my attention,” the Hunter nods, “How about you tell me a little more while we walk? I like to know what kind of trouble I'm getting myself into, after all.”

No trouble at all, you assure him, it'll be fine. Perfectly fine.

“Hmm,” he grunts, but he offers no further comment.

[1/2]
>>
>>601426
>it'll be fine. Perfectly fine.
Truly, Lize has a magical way with words. Almost makes me feel bad for Hyde, getting him mixed up in all this.
>>
>>601426

Choosing your words carefully, you explain most of what you know about Thomas – his habit of casual thievery, his fondness for spreading rumours, and his dangerous talk of picking sides. Listing them off all at once, he sounds like quite the villain. After considering the issue, you decide against mentioning Katrina's role in all this. You can do that much for her, at least. When you're finished describing his crimes, you ask Hyde about his League authority – what, if anything, can he do about this?

“I can put him under house arrest – it's hardly a prison cell, but it's the best we have to work with – until the storm is over, and then someone from the Ministry can press formal charges. It's not the most efficient system in the world, I know, but we do what we can,” pausing, Hyde rubs a hand through his beard as he thinks, “But what I want to know is, what are his motives? If he's a madman, it's a more creeping kind of madness than I've ever seen. I'm used to bellowing lunatics, not compulsive schemers.”

His motives, you admit, are still a mystery to you as well. You don't know him well enough to give an insight into his personality, and he doesn't seem to profit from any of his deeds. It's all quite a puzzle.

A set of stairs vanishes in silence as you both think on the issue. At the fourth floor, Hyde speaks up once more. “So, let's talk about how we're going to play this. If I barge in and start laying down the law, our friend might just play dumb. Or, if he really is mad – I've not discounted the idea – he might turn violent.”

Maybe you could go in alone, you suggest, talk with him for a while and see what he lets slip. The walls here are thin – Hyde could eavesdrop on any conversation you have.

“True, true. He might be more willing to talk if he think you're alone. He approached you earlier, after all,” the Hunter considers the issue, “Dangerous though, if he tries anything. I'll be right outside, but it doesn't take long to end a life – yours or his. Is that a risk you're prepared to take?”

>I'm prepared for that. You wait outside and listen, I'll speak with him alone
>Let's go in together and make this official
>Other
>>
>>601503
>I'm prepared for that. You wait outside and listen, I'll speak with him alone
>>
>>601503
>>I'm prepared for that. You wait outside and listen, I'll speak with him alone
>>
>>601503
>I'm prepared for that. You wait outside and listen, I'll speak with him alone
>>
>>601503
>>I'm prepared for that. You wait outside and listen, I'll speak with him alone
Hopefully we can take care of ourselves without absolutely wrecking the guy.
>>
With a solemn nod, you make your decision. You're prepared for that, you tell Hyde, you're ready to take that risk. If he waits outside and listens in, you'll go and speak with Thomas. Just a friendly conversation, that's all.

“Until I hear everything I need to hear,” Hyde adds, “And then things might get a whole lot less friendly. Alright, before we do this, I want to get one thing clear – if you think you're in any trouble at all, just a hunch or a bad feeling, I want you to shout for help. Truth be told, I really don't know what you might be walking into, but I'm not in the business of taking people lightly. Beasts, I can predict – people, I'm not so good with.”

A glib response starts to form on your lips, but then you see the look in Hyde's eyes – he's deadly serious, and there's a faint note of concern in those dark eyes of his – and the comment fades away. Nodding firmly, you give him a confident smile. Confident, but not arrogant or without caution.

“Alright, I'm done fretting,” Hyde decides, “Let's get this show on the road.”

Is he really that worried about you?

“You can take care of yourself,” he shakes his head, “I'm worried about what Henryk might do to me if I let you get hurt.”

-

Thomas' door is like any other you pass, with just a simple brass number screwed into the wood to tell you that you're at the right place. Easing into a casual slouch, Hyde leans against the wall by the door and stares off into space. If not for the fact that one hand is clenched into a tight fist at his side, you might think he was just relaxing or waiting for a friend. As it is, his posture is good enough to fool a passing glance – really, that's as good as it needs to be.

Drawing in a deep breath, you slip the key Anders gave you into the lock and turn it as quietly as possible. The fact that this time you're the one sneaking into someone's room – the simple irony of it – does not pass you by. Carefully turning the handle, you let yourself in to Thomas' apartment, blinking against the sudden gloom. It's dark in here – not quite pitch black, but dull enough to fool you – and your hand immediately goes to your knife. Every fibre of your body cries out “ambush”, and a hot rush of energy floods your system.

But the attack that you were expecting never comes. The room, the whole apartment, is empty. At least, that's what-

“Hello,” the voice comes unseen, as though the walls themselves spoke, and you have to fight to keep from crying out in surprise.

[1/2]
>>
>>601562

“I'm afraid I might be a terrible host,” the sinuous, oily voice continues, “You see, I really wasn't expecting a guest. You caught me quite by surprise.”

Sorry, you you manage to whisper as your eyes start to adjust to the darkness, sorry for dropping by unannounced. Swallowing hard – it sounds very loud in the otherwise hushed room – you glance about at the vague shapes resolving themselves before you. A lump on the floor, in the middle of the room, might be Thomas, sitting hunched and folded. That's... about all there is. The furniture lines the walls, cleared aside to give plenty of empty floor space.

“How about a little light, then? This gloom helps me think, but I know that not everyone shares my, ah, preferences,” Thomas reaches out and fiddles with something, a gas lantern, and soon a faint glow lights up the room. With the benefit of the light, you see countless hundreds of... things, little tiles, forming a long spiral around Thomas. They stand upright on narrow ends, just waiting for a single touch to send them all tumbling down.

“It's an old toy, southern in origin,” noticing your gaze, Thomas spreads his hands to take in the pattern, “I forget the name. Foreign words, you know? So hard to remember. My father brought it from the colonies when I was a boy, and it's fascinated me ever since. I said it was a toy, but that's a trite way of putting it – yes, there are games you play, but those never interested me. No, I've heard that there are ways to study these tiles, and by studying them, gaining new insight into the world. Studious men spend hours setting them up in intricate patterns, only to knock them down again with a single touch. Can you think why?”

The whole conversation is so surreal, so far from what you had been expecting, that you just shake your head.

“I'm not entirely sure either. There was only so much that my father could tell me, after all,” Thomas shrugs, “Never the smartest man. Maybe it's a lesson on how things change, or it makes a mockery of people who build great things. Even the grandest palace will crumble and fall, after all. What fascinates me, though – and it has done so since my childhood – is the idea of a chain reaction. One thing leads to another, to another still, and so on. Not so different from life, is it?”

No, you murmur, set people up in little rows and they can fall as well.

“Exactly!” he claps his hands together, the noise causing you to flinch, “Everything proceeds according to design!”

[2/3]
>>
>>601619
He's a nut with dominoes, he's clearly a menace that needs to be put down!
>>
>>601619

“Patterns underlie everything,” Thomas continues after a moment, putting a terrible emphasis on every one of those three words, “Once you realise that, you start to see them everywhere – and what isn't a pattern can easily be made into one, if only you know where to put the pieces. A few words here, a rumour there, and that's all it takes to set the pieces in place. Then, all it takes is a single bit of pressure, and everything falls down.”

A single bit of pressure, you guess, like a sudden power cut?

“Exactly,” he says again, “And the best thing is... I can't even take credit for that. The pieces were set, but it wasn't my hand that set things in motion.”

Wait, you blurt out, is he really saying he had nothing to do with that?

“A happy accident. If not a power cut, then something else would have done the job. A fight, an argument, any number of things...” he smiles, the lantern light twinkling in his eyes, “But I had faith that it would begin, sooner or later. It was clear enough to see - these patterns are best read by moonlight, after all.”

Moonlight, you think to yourself, the red moon. Alyssia spoke of the madness that descended upon men during storms like these, Devil Nights, but you never thought it would be Thomas who fell under the moon's sway. Maybe you've all been creeping towards madness, the tension that has been building rooted in the same corrupting influence.

He's wrong, you tell Thomas with a sudden desperate conviction, you're not part of his pattern. You choose your own fate.

“It's not a matter of choice or fate,” he corrects you, “I'm not trying to read the future. I'm just... trying to understand. I'm looking for confirmation, something that can finally prove what I've known. Everything should have ended in chaos – the sides were drawn against one another, resources grew short, and there was a sudden spike of violence. Yet... it didn't happen. Why is that?”

>Tell me this – did you try to start a riot? With rumours, and urging people to violence?
>Did you really want it to happen? Were you hoping for chaos and panic?
>It didn't happen because all this talk of patterns is bullshit. It's madness, plain and simple
>Hyde, get in here!
>Let me ask you something... (Write in)
>Other
>>
>>601689
>>Did you really want it to happen? Were you hoping for chaos and panic?
This should lead to a confession of sorts that gives way to the formal arrest.
>>
>>601689
>Yet... it didn't happen. Why is that?”
I think we broke his little domino effect the moment he tried to wiggle his way into our group and we saw through the bullshit and declined. Then went on to make peace with Anders and work together.

>Did you really want it to happen? Were you hoping for chaos and panic?
>Tell me this – did you try to start a riot? With rumours, and urging people to violence?
"People could have died Thomas. You could have died. Is proving your theory really worth someone's life?"
>>
>>601689
>>Did you really want it to happen? Were you hoping for chaos and panic?
>>Your pattern was incomplete and you read some of the pieces wrong.
>>
>>601689
>>Did you really want it to happen? Were you hoping for chaos and panic?
Curiosity isn't bad in itself, it's how and why you use that curiosity.
>>
>>601689
>Because you're not as good at reading people as you think. You view them as simple game pieces, yet each of them is an infinitely more complex existence, no different from yourself.
>Did you really want it to happen? Were you hoping for chaos and panic?
>>
You look down at the spiralling design, and you think about how easy it could be to send it all collapsing in on itself. Would it have been as easy, you wonder, for the real world to come tumbling down? Could a single action, born out of fear and panic, have sent the whole building into a downward spiral? Maybe so... but it didn't. His pattern was incomplete, you tell Thomas, and he was missing a few vital pieces. It all went wrong when you turned him away, when you refused to buy into his talk of sides and conflict. That was his mistake – he's not as good as reading people as he thought. It all went wrong because he saw people as pieces on a board, not men and women with thoughts of their own.

“That might be so,” frowning, he reaches out to the pattern, as if seeking to redesign it from the ground up, but then he stops himself. He sounds... disappointed.

Did he really want it to happen, you ask, was he really hoping for chaos and panic?

“No! I didn't want it to happen, but...” his face twists, the frown turning into something altogether more anguished, “I wanted proof! Just once, the kind of perfect proof that everyone could see and believe!”

And what is that proof worth to him, you ask, is it worth someone's life? What about his own, would it be worth dying for?

“If I could die knowing that I was right all along...” a calm descends over Thomas' face, “I could accept that. That's why I did everything that I did. I schemed, I planned. I spread dark rumours and I gave precious Katrina poisoned advice. I confess it all – that's what you wanted to hear, wasn't it?”

Good enough, you decide, it's enough rope to hang him with. Curiosity isn't necessarily a bad thing, but what he did – how and why he chose to indulge that curiosity – is enough to damn him.

“Yes, but...” he looks up from the pattern, a sly smile creasing his lips, “You can't really prove that I've done anything wrong, can you? All I did was gossip, that's not a crime. I wasn't part of any riot, I didn't hurt anyone. Don't you see? All I did was set up the pieces.”

The sound of the door creaking open silences the conversation. “Not a crime?” Hyde says mildly, but with a terrible weight hiding in his words, “We might disagree there. Inciting a riot, disturbing the peace, conspiracy to harm...”

“Think what you like about me,” Thomas shakes his head, “But don't pretend that you can punish me. You might as well blame the storm itself for the riot – it had as much influence as I did.”

[1/2]
>>
>>601801

Later, after escorting Thomas to an empty room – one without anything that might be used as a weapon, or a means of suicide – Hyde leans against the closed door and lets out an angry sigh. “He's got a point,” he tells you bluntly.

What, you ask, about getting off without charges?

“I wasn't trying to intimidate him with those fancy charges, they might really stick,” the Hunter shakes his head, “But it'll be hard. We don't have much evidence, and his confession is dubious. In a way, he's right – all he did was gossip and spread rumours. We could try to make a case that he did so maliciously, but he can just claim ignorance. I wager it would come down to a judge's decision – even odds of him getting away with it.”

That's ridiculous, you argue, he's as guilty as sin!

“Sure, but it would be a lot easier to prove that if we had someone else to back us up,” Hyde rubs the back of his wounded skull, “He mentioned Katrina, giving her some bad advice. Do you know anything about that?”

>She threw that bottle at you, but she did so on his advice
>I think you should be the one to ask her about it. Best to keep things official from now on
>Just don't blame her for anything. She had good intentions
>Other
>>
>>601847
>I think you should be the one to ask her about it. Best to keep things official from now on
>Just don't blame her for anything. She had good intentions
"She's just a scared girl honestly."
>>
>>601847
>>Just don't blame her for anything. She had good intentions
>>
>>601847
>I think you should be the one to ask her about it. Best to keep things official from now on
>Just don't blame her for anything. She had good intentions
>>
>>601847
>I think you should be the one to ask her about it. Best to keep things official from now on
>Just don't blame her for anything. She had good intentions
>>
>>601847
>>Just don't blame her for anything. She had good intentions
>>
He should be the one to ask her about it, you tell him carefully, it might be best to keep things official from now on. You don't quite know how these things work, but you don't want to give him the wrong idea. Better that she explains things in her own words.

“Alright,” Hyde frowns, but he nods, “She's down in the lobby, isn't she? I'll have a word with her, see what she has to say about this. I'll admit, I can't imagine how she's involved. We move in different circles, her and I, so I don't know her that well. She always struck me as, well, as a little useless. Harmless maybe, but not much use... unless I got the wrong impression?”

Honestly? She's a scared girl, you tell him, scared and uncertain. Whatever she says to him, you don't think she should shoulder the blame. She had good intentions, for everything she did.

“Good intentions,” Hyde repeats, tasting the words, “I've seen those used to justify a lot, in my time, and not much of it was pleasant.”

Just talk to her, you urge, and go easy on her. She's having a hard enough time of it as it is.

-

Before you can go and talk to Katrina properly, you run to fetch Pater and Hilde, tasking them with watching over Thomas' prison. It's not a hard job, but it's one that needs doing. So long as there's someone there to stop him running – not that he struck you as a man planning escape – that's all that needs doing. Once the brawny pair are in place, you leave them to their duties and head downstairs.

When Katrina sees you again, she flinches. When she sees Hyde following close behind you, she nearly faints. At least she's recovered some of her wits by the time you've reached her, and she looks like she's remembered how to breath. Her wide eyes flick between you and Hyde as she takes a deep gasp of air, preparing to deliver her rehearsed confession.

“Ah!” she yelps out, and a sudden blankness fills her eyes as her mind empties, “Ah... I...”

“Eliza,” Hyde clears his throat awkwardly, “Perhaps you could go and...”

Fix a few cups of tea, you suggest, something like that?

“That would be excellent, yes,” he nods quickly, relieved by your quick thinking, “Take your time, wont you?”

His implication, needless to say, is clear. Giving Katrina something that you hope is a reassuring smile, you turn and scurry away. You've done your part, now it's time to leave them to it.

[1/2]
>>
>>601972

You spend close to an hour up in Henryk's apartment, staring into space and not really thinking about anything, before Hyde knocks on the door. Shaking the thick feeling from your head, you answer it and offer him a smile of greeting – one that he wearily returns.

“Hey,” he asks with forced levity, “What happened to that cup of tea?”

He told you to take your time, you shoot back, you're taking all the time you need. Anyway, you add after a moment, did Katrina tell him everything?

“Aye. She thought that if I found myself unable to take charge, she'd get to stay here in safety. Our good friend Thomas was the one who told her that, of course, in suitably vague terms,” the smile drops from Hyde's lips, “He's good, I'll give him that. He knows how to say something without ever putting it into words. Still, I wager Katrina's confession should be enough to pin the slimy bastard to the wall. The only problem is...”

Katrina, you finish, she'll go down with him. She knows that, and she still offered her confession?

“Yeah. I never thought she'd be the type. Either to throw the bottle, or to own up to it. I've got to say, she surprised me,” Hyde sighs, and you open the door to invite him in. Offering a grateful smile, he collapses down onto the couch. “When the time comes, I'll argue for her to get a lighter sentence, maybe just a slap on the wrist if she's really lucky, but I can't promise anything. All this... it's a damn mess. Bloody storms. Bloody Thomas. Just...”

Bloody everything, you suggest, right?

“Yeah,” Hyde says again, “When all this is over, you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to go out and spend a week in the woods. Maybe catch a ship up to Port Steyr. Anything but stick around in this damn city. I feel like a caged animal here.”

Looking around at the four walls, you find yourself nodding in agreement. Getting out and about would be nice. Hell, just having the ability to wander the streets at will seems like an incredible, unobtainable luxury right now. Still – there's a few days to wait yet.

“Bloody storms,” Hyde repeats.

-

The last days of the storm pass slowly, but without any fuss or trouble. Thomas remains secluded within his room, never so much as shouting out or making life difficult for anyone else. The model prisoner, Hyde called him once, in a voice thick with bitter anger. Before returning the key to his apartments to Anders, you paid it one last visit. That stupid spiral of his is still here, untouched and undisturbed.

You take a spiteful pleasure from knocking it down. Not by tumbling it according to any pattern, but by scattering the pieces across the whole room. It's cathartic, like the act of destruction lifts a great weight from your mind.

[2/3]
>>
>>602100
>When all this is over, you know what I'm going to do?
Hyde please, you should know that setting up a death flag like that is never a good idea.
>>
>>602100

You see Katrina a few times before the tenement doors are flung open, and every time you see her, the sight of her cheerful face comes as a surprise. Of course, there's an undeniably artificial touch to her smile, but the fact that she's able to make that much effort is enough for you. In sharp contrast with her earlier behaviour – staring out a window for hours on end and watching the storm – she spent the last few days bustling about and staying busy. Working with Anders, she drew up a plan to share out food and made sure that it was followed. The work suited her, and by the end of it all, she had built bridges with the others. Even Hilde had to offer her grudging respect, and that wasn't easily won.

Whenever you're not busy with duties or simply killing time with various folk, you stay in Henryk's room and listen carefully to the radio. The weather updates come regularly, and the status of the railroads comes with them. With the diligent care of a girl studying for a terribly important exam, you note down the times of all the trains set to arrive from Port Daud. Three trains a day, and when Henryk gets back, he'll arrive on one of them. You plan to be there, waiting for him.

And then, before you've quite realised it, the Ministry has broadcast their all-clear message, and the storms are declared over.

-

“Well,” Hyde tells you, looking around the lobby with both fondness and distaste, “It feels strange to be leaving, somehow.” Behind him, Katrina murmurs her agreement while Thomas remains as silent as a man without a tongue. “I really must thank you, Eliza,” he adds, holding out his hand to shake, “If you hadn't let us in, that night...”

It's no big deal, you tell him as you shake his hand, you're just glad he wasn't a crazy murderer or anything. You would have got in a whole lot of trouble for letting him in, if that had been the case.

“Not being a crazy murderer was the least I could do,” he replies, his voice deadpan, “Give my regards to Henryk, when you see him – although I wonder if he'll even remember me. We were never all that close, after all.”

You'll pass the message along, you assure him, but that's about all you can promise.

“And that's all I can ask,” the Hunter nods, then turns to Alyssia, “Ma'am, I must thank you for the hospitality. Fair brightened up my time here, I must admit. I'll write, when I'm back in town, but-” He doesn't get the chance to finish that sentence, as Alyssia practically lunges forwards to take him in a tight embrace. Hyde, the poor thing, barely knows what to make of it.

You're SO going to tease her about that later.

[3/4]
>>
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>>602236

The hustle and bustle of the central station, the noise and the crowds, almost overwhelms you as you step into the building. It's like plunging into stormy waters, tides of bodies immediately knocking you this way and that. Gritting your teeth and squaring your shoulders, you wrestle through the surging morass until you reach a slightly less packed part of the station. Glancing up at the clock, you breath a sigh of relief – just in time for the arriving train. The second of the day, and you've got a good feeling about this one. Plucking the leather medallion from around your neck, you kiss it for good luck.

Then, with the great hiss of a furious dragon, the train arrives. Countless bodies spill out as the doors open, but you barely glance at them. Just looking at them long enough to disregard them, your eyes skip from face to face until you find who you're looking for. With his pack slung over one shoulder, and the crowd seeming to part before him, you see Henryk.

He looks, well... he looks dishevelled. Unshaven, his clothes are creased and his hair is unwashed. Dark shadows surround his eyes, and his shoulders have a slight slump to them. Even so, his eyes are sharp and hard, looking past all the unimportant things in the world to meet your gaze.

You swear that your heart skips a beat.

-

“There's really not much to say,” he lies later, as you're leaving the station together, “The north? It's awful, but that's not surprising. Most places are, I find. I go where the work takes me, and that's all there is to it.” His deliberate nonchalance retreats for a moment as he gives you a smile, “Business as usual, right? What about things here, I heard there were some pretty bad storms.”

Oh, you reply, just business as usual. Not a big deal – there were a few things that needed taking care of, but... you took care of them.

“Right,” Henryk offers a wan smile, before looking away and murmuring something under his breath. “Should have been here...” it sounds like, but you're not entirely sure. Shaking his head, he shifts his pack from one shoulder to the other and gives you a very serious look. “I mean it, the news coming out of the capital was pretty grim. How bad was it, really?”

>There was another Hunter – Hyde, his name was. He helped us out
>I mean it, it wasn't bad. Nothing Alyssia and I couldn't handle
>I'm not sure, but I think my blood is doing... something
>Other
>>
>>602332
>>I'm not sure, but I think my blood is doing... something
>There was another Hunter – Hyde, his name was. He helped us out
>>
>>602332
>There was another Hunter – Hyde, his name was. He helped us out
>I'm not sure, but I think my blood is doing... something
>>
>>602332
>I'm not sure, but I think my blood is doing... something
"I kinda sorta gutted and beheaded a beast and don't have much memory of it."
>There was another Hunter – Hyde, his name was. He helped us out
>>
>>602332
>I mean it, it wasn't bad. Nothing Alyssia and I couldn't handle
and for the stuff we couldn't.
>There was another Hunter – Hyde, his name was. He helped us out
also...
>I'm not sure, but I think my blood is doing... something

I guess it's pretty much the same thing you deal when you're out doing your Hunter business, right?
>>
>>602332
>>There was another Hunter – Hyde, his name was. He helped us out
>>I'm not sure, but I think my blood is doing... something
>>
It was a bit dangerous, you admit, but it really wasn't that bad. Most of it was nothing that you and Alyssia couldn't take care of. The beasts stayed clear of your building – you reckon she might have had something to do with that, you add in a furtive voice – so you never had to defend the tenement or anything like that.

“Most of it, you could handle,” Henryk muses on your choice of wording, “And what about the rest? That's a cut on your face, isn't it?”

He really noticed! Colouring slightly, you wave away the little injury. You'll tell him about that later, you promise, it's kind of a story in its own. No, the stuff you couldn't handle on your own, well... you didn't have to, because you weren't alone. There was another Hunter who was able to stop by – Hyde, his name was, Damien Hyde. He helped out, and you helped him out in return.

“Hyde... I think I know him,” Henryk frowns into the distance as he thinks, “Shaved his head and grew his beard out. Was that him?” When you nod, Henryk lapses back into silent thought. “I do remember him, actually. Good man, as I recall. Always willing to go the extra mile. I'm not surprised that he'd offer to help a bunch of complete strangers. Even without his duties compelling him, he wouldn't turn away.”

Actually, you correct him, Hyde came to you for help. He was trapped outside, and so you let him in. He kind of owes you one, now, but you could probably count it as even. After all, he stuck around and did his part.

“I suppose he would,” looking back at you, Henryk carefully tilts your head to the side so he can get a better look at your cut. “That's a claw mark,” he decides, “Now you're going to have to tell me how you got it. You said the beasts stayed away, so... it looks to me like you went searching for trouble.”

Not really, you manage to say in a faintly breathless voice, but he's maybe kinda right. A little bit. Maybe it would be better, you suggest, to talk about this in private? It's sort of a personal issue, and...

“I see,” he nods, his expression darkening a little, “It can wait until we're back home. You've got until then to think of a good excuse.”

-

“You've moved things about,” Henryk says, within the first few minutes of setting foot in his apartment, “Books. Some other things as well. Was there a good reason for that, or did you just feel like rearranging everything?”

You'll get to that later, you tell him, this is more important. It's about your blood.

“Shouldn't you talk to Alyssia about this?” he replies, a flash of worry surfacing in his eyes, “She might know-”

Not that, you protest, the Dragon's Blood!

“Oh,” Henryk nods slowly, “That's even worse.”

[1/2]
>>
>>602453

You're not really sure how to describe it, you begin, but your blood seems to be doing... something. You've been dreaming of strange things – someone else's memories, maybe – and even seeing them when you're awake. Sometimes, it feels like your thoughts aren't your own, and it's like someone else has taken over. Someone – something – older, and with far more authority behind their words.

“I... see,” Henryk leans back on the couch, frowning as he tries to imagine the situation, “Strange. Is that all that's happened?”

Well, you hesitate, there was this one other thing...

“And this is what leads us to that cut,” he deduces, “Go on, I'm listening.”

Picking your words with care, you describe how you accompanied Hyde into the neighbouring tenement block to burn out the beast nest. When you were finished there, you continue, you were about to leave when the second beast – the male – appeared. Things got a little muddled, you're not exactly sure what happened, but you kinda sorta gutted and beheaded a beast with a hunting knife... and you don't remember a thing about it. You did it in some kind of trance, like something else had taken over your body to do it. The same thing that speaks through you, and shows you flashes of memory.

“You gutted a beast, and then beheaded it?” Henryk repeats slowly. He doesn't sound angry, more... impressed. Proud, almost, even if he might not admit it to himself. “Better to be sure, I suppose,” he decides with a shrug, “And, just to be sure, you don't have any other ideas of what it might be? You're sure that this is to do with your blood?”

Yeah, you tell him, that's what you reckon. The way you see it, you're starting to think that it's not so different from his Wolf's Blood when he hunts. He gets all spooky and intense looking, while you do... what you did.

“I think it's a little more precise than just looking spooky and intense,” he corrects you, “But... I think you might be right. You're learning to call upon the power of your blood, just as I learned. It wasn't always something I could control at first, but I learned. I suspect the same might apply to you.”

Maybe, you whisper, but it's... scary. It feels good, in a way, and that just makes it worse. Nervously licking your lips, you speak in a tentative voice. He didn't find anything up north, you ask, did he? Anything that might... help? A cure, or a remedy, or anything – anything at all?

Henryk stiffens, his lips drawing back into a hard, flat line. He's already as white as a bloodless corpse, but you swear that he pales a little. He opens his mouth to say something, and then a knock on the door silences him.

He looks... relieved.

[2/3]
>>
>>602506

“Heard you were back,” you hear Anders grunt, “Your girl here ain't so bad. Fair helped out, while you were away.”

“That's what she tells me,” Henryk replies, his voice tight and strained, “So, is this a welcoming party, or was there anything you needed to tell me?”

“I'm in a good mood, Hunter, but don't push your luck. Anyway, two things I needed to pass on. First of all, you got a letter – Ministry business, looks like,” as you watch, you see Henryk accepting a small envelope. He doesn't open it, not yet. “Second of all,” Anders continues, “Rent might be going up soon. Maintenance costs for the building, you see. Ask your girl there about it, if you want the full details. Whatever, I've got a lot of other folks to talk to, and not a lot of time. Welcome back, I guess.”

“Glad to be back,” Henryk closes the door before adding, in a low voice, “You cantankerous bastard.” Then he glances your way, a question – about the rent, you don't doubt – written on his face.

You just shrug.

-

It's bad news, you've accepted that. He couldn't find a cure for your Dragon's Blood up north. You wish he'd just say it, but... it must be hard for him as well. He still can't look you in the eye, instead focussing on tearing open the envelop and reading it over. More bad news, you realise as his brow drops into a deep frown. Slowly folding the letter back up, he tucks it into the envelop and then pockets the whole thing. Then, and only then, can he look you in the eye.

“Let's go somewhere,” he says suddenly, “Looks like I've got some time off. We can call it a holiday.”

Go somewhere, you repeat, where?

“I don't know yet. Somewhere,” Henryk looks like a man who's been given the death penalty, not some time off, “I guess you'll be sick of these four walls. Might be nice to go somewhere else, right?”

He's not wrong, you admit, but...

“Then it's decided,” with a smooth grace – even now, he has that predatory way of moving that all Hunters share – Henryk rises, “A holiday will do us both some good. Pack a few things, and I'll think about where we can go. Somewhere... relaxing.” Then he slips through to his bedroom, leaving you sitting in silent confusion.

Just what the hell was in that letter?

>I think I'll close things here. We'll be back with Henryk next thread, but that won't be until next week – I might not have time to sit down and work this weekend. Regardless, I'll stick around in case anyone has any questions or comments
>Thanks to everyone who contributed today!
>>
>>602453
>He really noticed!
Hah
>>
>>602611
Thanks for running Moloch.

How come Henryk didn't mention Blood of the Giants as a potential lead for a cure? So much of a longshot that he doesn't want to give false hope?
>>
>>602629

That's basically the gist of it. He doesn't want to give Lize hope only to snatch it away later. Since, to the best of his knowledge, giant's blood is a lost and impossible treasure, it might be cruel to mention it as a cure.
>>
>>602611
Thanks for running Moloch, playing as Lize was pretty fun. That said, Lize seems like she's changed a lot over these few weeks Henryk was gone, I might have to go back and read up on how we were treating her before. Looks
like we have a new adventure to look forward to next time, probably going to feel nice to be back in those hunter boots too.
>>
>>602661

I have to say, I did enjoy writing as Lize. It's something I'd been planning to do for a while, mainly as a way to get a new perspective on certain things. That said, it's not something I wanted to draw out too long, and I'm glad to be getting back to Henryk's perspective.
>>
>>602700
I'd be down for another Lize PoV somewhere down the line. The Dragon blood sounds really cool and I'm excited to see more of Lize being a badass now that we know she can be helpful and defend herself.
>>
>>602791

I do have some ideas for a second Lize section, although I'm not yet sure how much I want to develop them. Depending on how those work out, and if I can find a good time to work it in, there may be another Lize episode in future. No guarantees, mind.
>>
>>602832
Imperious noble female Knight being forced to mate with a filthy, stinking human smutbin when Moloch?
>>
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>>603027

That wouldn't advance the plot at all, it would be blatant fanservice!
>>
>>603154
I mean let's be honest. This pregnancy thing has reminded me that as much as you like the idea of the line between man and beast being blurred, we haven't had enough sexual content to properly reflect that.

Violent sexual liaisons or bust!
>>
moloch once smuggled smug smuggler lolis
>>
Why is Hyde such a massive witch stealing faggot.



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