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You are Alexei Solokov, scion and heir of the Sokolov crime family. It is Wednesday, October 22nd, 2017, and the Family is in a dark age. The assassination of your father and the severance of the Family's ties to the forces of Hell and the Witch Covens have left the once Great House in a downward spiral. Only the monstrous servants remain allied with the Sokolovs.

Your bank reserves are at 165,070,450 USD.
Your income is 70,450 USD per week.

Your forces are:
>250 Werewolves, scattered across the globe; 92 at the Manor, 20 in Beijing, 20 in Louisiana, 30 in New York, 30 in London, 50 in Afghanistan and 8 with you here in Moscow
>18 Jaegers (S) at Sokolov Manor and 2 here with you in Moscow
>2 Cyclopes (S), here at Sokolov Manor
>5 Minotaurs (S), here at Sokolov
>10 Centaurs (S), at Sokolov
>1 Dragon (S) (Vern, a Red adolescent) here at Sokolov
>2 Pegasi at Sokolov
>8 Nightshifters, at Sokolov
>25 Salamanders, at Sokolov

You are currently in a Moscow intersection with the werewolves of Ram team (and Bas), about to resume your course to the Kremlin…

+++

“Sounds like a good plan, Bas. Let’s get moving.”

Bas takes the front, and you start at a brisk pace down the road to the Kremlin, keeping wary watch for the Stalkers returning.

>Ask what the hell is going on
>Stay silent
>Other (write-in)

+++

Welcome Back: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JLo02AquUCs
Discord: https://discord.gg/aXAhgf
Archives: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Occult+Mafia+Quest
>>
>>2059806
>Stay silent
>>
>>2059806
>Stay silent
>>
>>2059806
>Stay silent
No sense drawing attention to ourselves.
>>
Rolled 8 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

The only sound is the crunch of the snow beneath your feet, and distant gunfire in the distance. It sounds odd... muffled, somehow, like you're hearing it through a thin wall.

>1d20, beat my roll
>>
Rolled 6 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>2060035
>>
Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>2060035
>>
Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>2060035
>>
>>2060078
17
kek

Once, you hear the shriek of a Stalker pack in the distance, but other than that, it's a quiet and uneventful, though tense, walk to the great walls of the Kremlin.

Its great spires rise high above the streets below, the gold upon them given a pallid glow in the moonlight.

You're looking at the entrance to the Alexandrovsky Gardens. Even at this time of night, it's guarded - two armed Russian soldiers stand watch, wrapped in heavy snow-camo coats. They track you, but their weapons aren't raised.

>Have Bas kill them, you can't trust anyone
>Approach yourself and ask for harbor
>Find another entrance
>Go somewhere else (specify)
>Other (write-in)
>>
>>2060330
>Approach yourself and ask for harbor
>>
>>2060330
>Approach yourself and ask for harbor
>>
>>2060441
>>2060456

You raise your hands as you approach. Bas, wisely, holsters his weapon as well - though you expect the werewolf could still rip these men to shreds with little effort.

"[Ho, comrades,]" you say in Russian. "[I seek refuge.]"

The guards look at each other. You can't see their faces behind their cold-weather gear. The one on the left looks back to you.

"[Find a police station, boy,]" he says. "[It isn't our job to help every lost civilian.]"

You frown.

"[Does the name Sokolov mean anything to you?]"

"[It is a common name.]"

"[Ah. How does Lord Sokolov sound?]"

The guard seems about to speak, but his partner puts his hand on the soldier's shoulder. He whispers something into his ear, and the one on the left goes stiff.

"[I will bring you inside. Follow me.]" He seems to notice Bas for the first time. "[Is he..?]"

"[With me.]"

He nods, and speaks into his radio. "[I have a Lord Sokolov at the Gardens gate.]"

There's some squawking, then the guard gestures to you. His partner opens a small side door - you wouldn't have noticed it without a thorough search.

He steps through, and you follow, Bas as your shadow. The first closes the door behind you as you step through.

Even in stark, artificial light, the Gardens are quite gorgeous. They're covered by snow now, but that perhaps adds to their beauty. You don't take in too much scenery during your brisk procession through the Gardens, but you pick up the general impression of a veneer of beauty over an iron-hard core of security.

Like at the main gate, you don't take the main way in. Instead, you go through a service door, descending a very modern stairwell underground. You have a sense that this is a place not a lot of tourists see.

The guard keys a set of double doors open on the bottom of the stairs, revealing...

What looks to be an entire squadron of Spetsnaz. Wonderful. They're stacked in a standard firing position, five in front and five in back, the front line crouching.

A woman, dressed in civilian business clothing, stands in front of them. The guard who escorted you here seems as surprised as you. Bas snarls, but doesn't go for his gun.

>What is the meaning of this!
>Frankenstein's reach goes deeper than I thought.
>Standard Russian paranoia, I take it?
>Other (write-in)
>>
>>2060705
>Standard Russian paranoia, I take it?
Unless there's bolts in her neck we can't tell this woman's a Frankenstein.
>>
>>2060705
>A pretty lady and a gun squad so the usual Russian welcoming party. I’m expecting a glass of vodka any seconds now
>>
>>2060722
pfft

as if the Frankensteins would send a member of the family for something so menial as spying on the Kremlin
>>
>>2060705
>Standard Russian paranoia, I take it?
In as sarcastic a tone as we can muster.
>>
>>2060757
Support
>>
>>2060733
>>2060722
>>2060737
>>2060757
>>2060760
So many votes im a happy bean


"[Wow! I thought this would be standard Russian paranoia, but I got the pretty lady and firing line package! Glad to see you rolled out the red carpet. Where's my glass of vodk-]"

You're cut off as another Spetsnaz emerges from behind the door and grabs you by the hair, dragging you through the doors unceremoniously. Bas growls, but the shuffling of rifles from the fireteam sets that to rest. The soldier drops you face-first on the ground in front of the woman.

"[You're a cocky bastard, aren't you, Mr. Sokolov?]" she says, smiling without mirth. "[With all the trouble your family usually gives us, I should probably shoot you right here... but my boss wants to talk. Get him up, 3. We're going to Cell 13.]"

The same soldier heaves you back to your feet, and grabs you hard by your injured shoulder. You hiss in pain, but manage to not pass out.

The firing line cracks open a little, admitting the woman, "3," and yourself. Bas is left behind. You hear a Spetsnaz soldier talking to him as you're prodded further into the facility:

"[Cooperate, and neither you nor your principal will be harmed, wolf...]"

It fades away.

The facility is utilitarian, but there are concessions you don't think you'd see in a "standard" secret Russian base. Good lighting, for one. Another would be the sigil carved into the stone floor of what looks to be the main reception hall. You don't get much of an option to study it before you're pushed down a side hall.

>What is this place?
>Who are you people?
>Why am I a prisoner?
>What are you going to do to my bodyguard?
>Silent
>Other (write-in)
>>
>>2060794
>Silent
>>
>>2060794
>>Who are you people?
>>
>>2060794
>Silent
No weaknesses. Internally be concerned for Bas.
>>
>>2060794
>Silent
>>
>>2060794
You consider some smart-aleck comments, but decide against it. "3" might grip harder.

You're unceremoniously shoved into a cell, standard interrogation layout. Something's... off about it. As soon as you cross the threshold, a sensation in the base of your skull vanishes, like a background noise shutting off. "3" pushes you - the man's a sadist - into a metal chair, and shackles you to the table. Which is bolted to the floor. "3" takes up position by the door, and the woman sits down across from you. She starts going through papers - power play.

>Why am I a prisoner?
>What do you want with me?
>Where am I?
>Let me guess, you ask the questions around here.
>Other (write-in)

Last update for tonight, folks.
>>
>>2061015
>>Why am I a prisoner?
>>
>>2061015
>This is the part where I get beaten, right?
>Or is this going to be torture by papercuts?
>Honestly the most painful thing you can do to me is keep pretending you know how to read.
>Wait wait wait, let me guess, 'you are in no position to demand answers of me, Mister Sokolov'.
Just try and rile them the fuck up. Maybe not exactly these, but they catch the general theme. No idea what benefit taunts will bring, but screw it, why not.
>>
>>2061015
Try to use that thing Baba Yaga gave us
>>
>>2061626
Your hands are shackled to the table. It would be totally obvious that you're going for something.

Not saying you can't, just warning you.
>>
1-1-1 tie. Giving the write-in (>>2061066) precedence in 10 minutes.
>>
>>2061066
"[So, let me guess. Now you shine a light and my face and ask me what I know. Or perhaps you're going to call the estate and demand ransom. Or maybe you're just going to kill me.]"

She doesn't respond. It's quite annoying.

"[So, are you just going to keep pretending you can read, or are you going to interrogate me?]"

They continue the silent treatment. You roll your eyes, and put your head down on the desk. You close your eyes. It's been a long night, and the adrenaline is fading. You pass into the twilight zone between sleep and wake before long.

"[Is he asleep?]" 3's voice.

"[So it seems, but you can't trust a Sokolov. Nevertheless... I'll be fine on my own. Go get the Director.]"

"[Yes, Lieutenant Isayeva.]" You hear the door click.

>Wake up
>Stay "asleep"
>Other (write-in)
>>
>>2061785
>Stay "asleep"
Try to "feel" where she is.
>>
>>2061987
Do this
>>
>>2061987
>>2061785
This
>>
>>2061987
>Stay "asleep"
>>
>>2061987
Yus
>>
You decide to keep your eyes closed. The woman - Isayeva - doesn't say anything. There's little sound in the room except the whining of the lights and your steady breathing.

A click: the slide of a handgun. You stay silent and still, controlling your breathing.

"[I know you're awake, boy. I want you to know, Sokolov, that you're still human. If I pulled this trigger right now, that would be the end of you. Try and hold on to this moment when you start thinking you're above humanity.]"

You hear the slight rasp of her weapon being holstered. A moment later, there comes the heavy sound of the door opening. Your hair is grabbed again, and you open your eyes, glaring at "3." Then, your eyes trace back towards the door and...

"Uncle Anatoly?" You exclaim, shocked. He looks just as surprised to see you, especially torn, bloodied, and snowed on.

He isn't your real uncle, of course, but he's a close family friend. You've known him since you could remember faces. He bought you your first bicycle, drove you around on his motorcycle, lots of cycles now that you come to think of it.

"[He seems to know you, sir,]" Isayeva says, with a hint of confusion.

"[Yes. It seems so. Strelnik, test him.]"

"3" - whose name appears to be Strelnik - pulls a very large knife out of a sheath, grins evilly, and presses the flat end into your hand. Nothing happens, and Strelnik looks disappointed.

"[Clean for shifter.,]" he grunts.

"[And he didn't spontaneously combust when he crossed the sigil, so he's no demon,]" Isaveya adds.

"[Thank you both. You're dismissed. Lieutenant, please fetch a medic.]"

They nod, and exit the room respectfully.

>Where am I?
>Why are you treating me like a prisoner?
>Paranoid much, Uncle?
>Other (write-in)
>>
>>2063615
>>Paranoid much, Uncle?
>>
>>2063615
>Gotdamn unc it's ya boi why you trippin? Best get this wack ass bitch outta here fore I knock the taste out her mouth. And where the weed at?
>>
>>2063615
>Paranoid much, Uncle?
>>
>>2063615
Rub shoulder now that the others are gone.
"Your dog Strelnik needs a tighter leash."
>>
>>2063622
>>2063664

"[Paranoia seems to run rampant here, Uncle,]" you say, shaking the chain clamped on your arm. That makes your shoulder sting, and you wince, almost reaching to rub it before remembering your wrist is shackled. "[And your dog Strelnik needs a muzzle.]"

"[Yes, I apologize about Strelnik. And the paranoia. I know it's a cliche, but you honestly can't be too careful in our line of work. There are at least 23 documented methods of anomalously impersonating another person, and if Winter Division was infiltrated... All of Russia could fall victim.]"

"['Winter Division,' huh?]"

Anatoly curses.

"[You were always entirely too sharp for your own good. Yes, KGB Winter Division. We serve to guard Mother Russia from extranormal threats. That oftentimes entails working with your family. You have knowledge, access to the occult, and connections that we don't. In return, we'd leave you alone, and occasionally toss some materiel your way.]"

You grin.

"[And I'm sure that we have a bit of a say on politics in Russia.]"

Anatoly snorts.

"[Are you kidding? Some people call you the Shadow Tsars.]"

He has another chuckle, but his face soon goes serious.

"[I was sorry to hear about your father. I regret not being able to make it to his funeral.]"

It's your turn to scoff.

"'[The funeral was a joke. Money-grubbers and Manor staff, that's all. You served his memory better by not being there.]"

"[Sorry to hear that. Now, why have you turned up at the Kremlin at 3 in the morning?]"

>After my father died, many of our safehouses went dark...
>The Sokolov safehouse here came under attack...
>Other (write-in)
>>
>>2063923
>The Sokolov safehouse here came under attack...
>>
>>2063923

"A safehouse went dark. I came to see if it was dead, turned, or simply dark. It seemed the last, but Frankenstein came mere hours later, so perhaps the second. By now, it is possibly the first. So, in short, 'shit happened'."
>>
>>2063923
>The Sokolov safehouse here came under attack...
>>
"[One of my safehouses in the area stopped reporting in. I came to check on it. Seemed that they were just following protocol, but now I'm not so sure - an assault force hit the safehouse half an hour ago. So far I've run into a Stalker pack and an Abomination. Likely Frankenstein, but I'm not willing to make that call just yet.]"

Anatoly nods.

"[And the wolf?]"

"[My Lieutenant, Teller.]"

"[Ah, I see. I'll go spring him in a moment. I'm assuming that shoulder wound is from a Stalker? Nasty beasts.]"

"[Yeah, it is. You might want to put a few extra guards on the exterior walls.]"

"[Thank you for the advice, but I assure you that the four Houses combined would have a hard time trying to break the Kremlin.]"

"[Ha! I wouldn't even try. Now, am I still a prisoner, or not?]"

"[Ah, my apologies. Here we go.]" He touches a finger to the manacles, and the sigil on them glows for a moment before they unlatch.

"[Come with me, we'll catch the medic on the way out.]"

Sure enough, Anatoly opens the door to a very surprised doctor, who snaps a startled salute on seeing the Director. It's like watching your own life from the outside! Anatoly bids the medic follow, and you start off, presumably towards sickbay. Anatoly gives you a tour as you walk.

"[Winter Division was formed in '91, at the end of the Third Occult War. We picked up the pieces of GRU 'P' and tried to glue them back together, but quite a few of our anomalies were lost - stolen, destroyed, or escaped.]"

The complex seems to consist of infinite corridors. You pass door after door. Anatoly hurries you by some.

"[There are two forms of extranormal entity in the world that we recognize: Mythics, those which belong to a certain species, like your werewolves, with documented and consistent abilities, weaknesses, etc., and Anomalies, random entities with unpredictable effects. Winter mostly deals in the defense against the former and containment of the latter.]"

You're pretty sure you hear a scream down one of the hallways. A few minutes later, a Spetsnaz group goes jogging past.

"[Winter Division is a preventative measure, and we only act within the borders of Russia or her protectorates. There are other groups that handle the world at large. Ah, here we are.]"

The group arrives at the medical bay. It's lit and in obvious use - all of the occupied beds have privacy curtains drawn, and an isolation room at the back is guarded. The doctor leads you into an exam room while Anatoly waits in the lobby. The medic examines your shoulder before doing a pretty standard patch job. He gives you some painkillers, and you're on your way.

>Get Bas and get out of here - maybe ask for an escort to the airport?
>Ask for some backup to retake the safehouse
>Bunker down until morning, reconsider the situation in the daylight
>Other (write-in)
>>
>>2064087
>Get Bas and get out of here - maybe ask for an escort to the airport?
I'd rather not push our luck and ask them to get involved in our affairs. That sounds like a favour that'd be messy to pay back.

>Anatoly opens the door to a very surprised doctor, who snaps a startled salute on seeing the Director. It's like watching your own life from the outside!
>It's like watching your own life from the outside!
Kek.
>>
>>2064087
I'd say step one would be
>Consult with Bas

Before we got here, Bas suggested we leave with escort in the morning.

But with the chaos of the evening, I want a full assessment of how screwed our men were, if at all. Sure, the situation was dicey enough that they had to evacuate the Lord, but that could mean a lot of options: anything from equal footing to vastly overwhelmed. Heck, given the recent turmoil, it probably would have been wise to get us out of there even if we had a slight advantage.

Depending on Bas's opinion, I'd then say either
>Get out of here, maybe with escort.
or
>Bunker down for the night SOMEWHERE ELSE - reassess in the morning.

Tell Anatoly we couldn't impose on him, so we'll Set up at a nearby hotel (there are like, 5 within an 8 minute walk), and scout out the situation in daylight. Invite him to breakfast or lunch before we leave.
>>
>>2064655
Breaking the tie
>>
>>2064139
This
>>
>>2064655
This sounds pretty good, do this
>>
File: closeone.jpg (62 KB, 625x415)
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62 KB JPG
>>2064655
>>2065095
>>2065099

Fucking ties

Voting closed, but I've gotta run some errands
>>
Calling the thread

Partially due to frustration at losing <2000 characters of an update

To Be Continued: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVnjumhrOQ8




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