Victorian Shadows IC

[Mr. E]

27th of January, in the year of our Lord 1867.

It’s about four thirty in the evening. At this time of the year, the sky has already begun to darken. A lonely gaslighter can be seen tapping his way down the street, long pole and match held aloft. The boundary between night and day is the time for secret business, and the time when the secret realms come alive.

The day shift has left about an hour ago, packing up their gear and returning to their homes and beds. Your shift, the night shift has begun, and they were eager to leave. You walk in the door, resplendent in your uniforms, which are neither tidy, nor practical, nor even uniform. The offices of the Council Guard are housed in a old building, whose walls have bent and buckled over the years. It slopes in odd places, and the whole place has a rather pathetic air. It’s not really a place anybody goes to by choice, and only those with no-one else to turn go to the Guard for help.

Which makes it all the more surprising, when, on this cold and wintry night, the door bangs open and a messenger boy runs in. The boy comes to a hurtling stop, a cold wind whipping past him to upset papers and chill the fire which burns in a corner. His chest heaves for a few seconds, then he puffs out: “Manticore on, puff, pant, Oak Street, sir.” A pause as he looks around the room, and wheezes heavily. “And ladies. It’s smashed up some carts and killed a-” He pauses for breath again (it is a long-ish way to Oak Street). “-horse.”

Then feeling no further explanation to be needed, he staggers out the door, puffing as he goes. Manticores are notoriously large and dangerous predators, sometimes kept by the rich as pets. It is strange to find one in Oak Street, one of the cramped and crowded slum-streets, filled with overcrowded and rotting tenements. The houses there are stacked alongside, on top and underneath each other, accomodation forced in wherever the smallest of spaces can be made. It is the abode of those who have nothing, usually itinerant labourers who work on the docks, sometimes with families, sometimes without. It lacks any amenities, except Gin shops offering an alcoholic release. Disease and malnutrition are rife, and there is no clean drinking water to be had without a long walk to the wells and plumbing on the more prosperous sides of town. With so many people squeezed into the smallest of spaces, the Manticore will cause chaos should it lash out.


So then, what do you do? Just a quick basic conflict to get everyone comfortable with the system. Should be some social interaction afterwards for the characters which are more optimised for that side of things.

@Ionbound: Oak Street's on the border of your territory and the main Dockside Runners area. Also, you need to decide whether Lucia transforms as soon as it is dark, or when it becomes 'fully night'. Each will have different advantages and disadvantages (obviously, it's harder to charm others if you've transformed).

[Squadfather42]

Deacon looks up as the boy barges in from the outside. Listening half heartedly at first, Deacon's attention zeros in on the boy at the mention of a Manticore.

As the boy finishes speaking, Deacon gets up and grabs his customary axe handle. Twirling it in his hand he makes for the door, pausing long enough to check his hand axe and pistol are safely secured at his side. At the door Deacon looks back at the others and simply says "well lads, and lasses it's time to earn our pay."

[Rowenn552]

Jon

Jon barely has time to sit at his customary table and remove his deck of cards from his coat before the messenger boy bursts in with the chill wind.

As the boy says 'Manticore' so to does Jon mouth the words at the same time. He bows his head and slumps his shoulders. Returning his cards to a length of velvet fabric he ties them up and places them into his heavy coat.

He sighs, standing, and walking past Deacon Jon pats the man on the shoulder giving him a sad smile, "Yes, let us be off then..."

Jon steps out into the cold darkness and pulls his collar up against the biting wind...

[thenewflesh]

Ophelia sits huddled in a corner trying to remain warm as the boy rushes in. And thus another long night begins...

She stands up, wrapping her coat tightly around her, and silently follows Jon out the door.

[Ionbound]

Lucia chuckles and says, "It's in for a nasty surprise then." She smirks as her eyes start to take a yellowish tinge, the first sign of the change coming on as the sun starts to sink below the horizon, "It's got us and the Dockside Runners to contend with. I can't imagine it living to see the sunrise."

I figure that Lucia changes only after full sunset, but she starts to show some signs during the dusk hour: Yellowing eyes, hairy and tough palms, maybe some pointy ears, you get the idea.

[Xaphan]

Abigail stays quiet as the boy comes in and speaks, making herself as plain and inconspicuous as possible in a corner. She seems to carry corners with her - one might swear she could blend into the corner of a circular room. As Deacon speaks, her eyes start darting around the room for help, but it soon becomes clear none is forthcoming. Not that she had expected any. So, she speaks up. "This um..." she pauses. "This isn't remotely what I'm paid for. I'm paid for dealing with things that can think. I can help with the evacuation, but there's no way in hell I'd be any use against a manticore. Deacon, you know how much use I am in a straight fight."
She walks to join the group at the door, with some reasonably well hidden reluctance.
A thought occurs to her.
"Even an animal can be taught. What if we made it think it could hear it's trainer nearby? That might give us an advantage."
She sighs "Sorry. Best I've got. It's an animal."

[Squadfather42]

Deacon looks at Abigail and smiles. "Don't worry about it, Abigail. Even helping with the crowds and such...is still helping out. You have nothing to worry about. Now, come on and let's see what we have."

[Ionbound]

Lucia gives Abigail a wolfish smirk and says, "I mean that's not exactly not fixable." She chuckles, shakes her head, then says, "Eh, we've got the fighting bit handled. Just stay out of the way and make sure the mortals do the same."

[Xaphan]

Abigail looks a little annoyed "I um... wasn't aware you'd become immortal, Lucia." She says.

[Rowenn552]

Jon

Jon looks at Ophelia listening to the others inside, smiles at her, and shakes his head. Popping back in for a moment he says, "Oi, I'm not too soddin' keen on this business myself but I'm freezing me bollocks off out here. If we ain't get a move on soon there might not be much of Oak Street left by the time we get there."

[Ionbound]

Lucia just shakes her head and says, "You know what I meant. But anyways, shall we depart?"

[Xaphan]

Abigail sets off walking towards Oak Street, but can't resist continuing to needle a woman capable of ripping her in half as she goes.
"Sorry Deacon," she says "Luca says I have to keep you away from the fighting."

[Squadfather42]

Abigail sets off walking towards Oak Street, but can't resist continuing to needle a woman capable of ripping her in half as she goes.
"Sorry Deacon," she says "Luca says I have to keep you away from the fighting."

"Probably so the glory can go to her. It's not going to happen."

[Ionbound]

Lucia laughs again, taking the needling in stride as she strolls with Abigail towards Oak Street, "Deacon wasn't the one complaining about being useless in combat."

[Rowenn552]

Jon

Jon walks quietly in stride beside Ophelia when he suddenly breaks the silence, quietly saying to her, "Bit odd innit. I'm jus sayin', just as we come on there's some blueblood's toy rampagin' about town? Suspicious is all I'm sayin'."

Jon pulls his coat tighter, shivers a bit, and picks up his pace mumbling quietly to himself, "Bloody cards... I've been wrong before though..."

[Xaphan]

Abigail raised her eyebrows.
"You got me all wrong, Lucy. I'm fine not being much good in a scrap. After all, that's why I'm not the one about to be ripped in half by a manticore."

[thenewflesh]

Ophelia looks up from the ground immediately in front of her to glance at Jon. "What, do you imagine someone in the council has it out for us?" she asks quietly. "Is that what your visions say?"

[Ionbound]

Lucia shrugs and says, "Guess that's because I'm the one who can get up after. I still think you'd look good in fur though."

[Xaphan]

Abigail turns briefly to Ophelia
"It's obvious that this is intentional. A manticore simply has no reason to be on Oak Street in the first place. We can check later, but my guess is that even were it being transported, it'd go via one of the streets with proper paving instead of hooligans. There's nothing and noone important in Oak Street, so either this is a distraction, or it's a trap. And I can't imagine who else it would be for." She laughs bitterly. "Who else cares about Oak Street?"
She turns back to Lucia "I'm sorry, you were offering me your pelt?"

[Squadfather42]

Deacon listens to the banter between everyone as the group moves down the street. Laughing to himself he keeps moving as they head towards the Manticore and the unknown.

[Rowenn552]

Ophelia looks up from the ground immediately in front of her to glance at Jon. "What, do you imagine someone in the council has it out for us?" she asks quietly. "Is that what your visions say?"

"Yeh, prolly pissed someone in there off a time or two but nah love, the visions ain't so clear as that. Most of the time that is.
Anyway, maybe it is som'n on the council and maybe not, just sayin, it smells like the Thames is all."

[Ionbound]

Lucia shakes her head and says, "Mine? No, of course not. Maybe the Manticore's, though." She smirks again, then grunts as her feet and legs shift to a digitigrade stance.

[Mr. E]

The little ragtag group, theoretically known as the council guard, turn a corner, and Oak Street closes around them. The atmosphere is dank and cold, and water drips from the buildings which crowd overhead. The houses and tenements slump into one another, older and newer constructions melding into a tangle of rotten wood and corroded brickwork. The ground underfoot is supposed to be cobbled, but a thick layer of mud and best-not-to-ask-what coats the cobbles in slippery slime. In the centre of the street runs a polluted stream. The liquid filth which flows its slow and poisonous way down towards the Thames now bears little connection to water, seeming to be more reminiscent of bloody pus than the water of life.

However, all attention is currently demanded by the Manticore which crouches midway up the street. A large and majestic creature, it seems wildly out of place in the squalor of Oak Street. A large and powerful lion, with a segmented scorpion’s tail merging seamlessly into its buttocks. A large iron collar and chain ties it to a large stone weight which lies in the stream.

It picks at the corpse of the unfortunate horse, tearing strips of flesh away from it’s shattered carcass. Around it are the remains of a cart, broken and battered, and the shattered remnants of what was once a cage. Its wooden bars are snapped in half or torn out of their housings. One lies a few metres from the entrance to the street, one part of it chewed by enormous fangs.

The street, which usually bustles with activity, or at the very least with beggars, is empty. Houses are boarded up, and from upstairs windows, frightened faces peer out. Everything is quiet, except for the chewing of the manticore. As the Council Guard round the corner, it turns to gaze at them, then opens its mouth and lets out a low, feral growl.

[Squadfather42]

Deacon matches the Manticore's stare with one of his own. Stepping forward a couple steps, Deacon stops and continues the stare down.

[Ionbound]

Lucia, now fully transformed, meets the manticore's growl with one of her own, amber eyes flashing in the lighting as she attempts to send the message this is my territory in a language that it will understand as she pas her way forwards towards it.

[Xaphan]

Abigail sighs. "I was wrong." She says, "apparently someone actually was stupid enough to try and transport a manticore through Oak Street. I'm honestly shocked it didn't get loose sooner, the thing is clearly way too smart for-"
It is Abigail's habit to chatter idly to the world at large as she assesses a situation, and it was at this point that she has what she needs. There are people taking shelter in buildings that were worse than nothing. They'd come down in the fighting, and not give the people inside any hope of escape.
She sprints toward one of the houses without another word.
So, I obviously haven't got there yet, but I'm going to want to persuade them to come out, because the house is a deathtrap, and to persuade any who are reasonably able bodied to help me evacuate the other houses.

[Rowenn552]

Jon

Jon scratches his head, "Well, hell."

He looks around a bit taking in the scene. "So's that rock there wit the bit o' chain hooked to it. Are we to believe this beasty can pull it? Or that someone just attached him to it so's he don't get too far away from Oak?", Jon throws his hands up in a placating manner, "Just saying, suspicious is all."

Jon addresses Deacon and Lucia, "This may seem a bit mad but distract that thing for a moment if you'd please... I'd like to speak to it."

[Squadfather42]

Jon
Jon addresses Deacon and Lucia, "This may seem a bit mad but distract that thing for a moment if you'd please... I'd like to speak to it."

"Agreed, also your right my friend....that does sound a bit mad."

Never the less, Deacon moves over to the opposite side of the street as Lucia. As he approaches the beast, Deacon can't help, but to silently say a quick prayer.

[thenewflesh]

Ophelia smiles grimly at the Manticore and the carcass, very glad she isn't the horse. She stays a respectful distance away from it - and Lucia -, hand underneath her coat on her swordhilt. She wasn't really sure how to handle the situation yet, but it looked like Jon did. She would stand back and lend assistance if things should get hairy (or furry, as the case may be).

[Mr. E]

The manticore yawns slowly, revealing a mouth full of long sharp teeth. In the dim light they seem to glow white. Then, it slowly prowls forward, the chain and rock catching and scraping as it is slowly dragged along. The manticore struggles forward, impeded but not stopped by the extra weight. Coming to a halt in the narrowest part of the street, it crouches down and growls again, flattening it's ears against its skull and showing its fangs.

[Squadfather42]

Deacon smiles as he continues to slowly move forward. The all to familiar sensations of combat flowing in his brain.

Not being able to help himself, Deacon laughs out loud. "Here kitty...kitty."

[Ionbound]

Lucia sniffs at the Manticore and prowls around it, baring her pearly-white and lethally sharp fangs as well as she circles towards it's flank.

[Rowenn552]

Jon

Jon, no stranger to the slums of the city, backsteps a bit and heads down the nearest alley as Deacon and Lucia step up towards the manticore.

Racing ahead down a parallel alleyway, sighs at the sound of silence, Good, he thought, they hadn't engaged the beast yet. Stepping out further down Oak St. Jon could now see that Deacon and Lucia had spread out somewhat having a contest of wills with their quarry.
Between himself and his comrades stood the manticore, and that large flicking scorpion tail... What was he doing? This was madness....

Popping a pill Jon began to move quickly towards the manticore from behind hoping to take advantage of Deacon and Lucia's distraction.
Reaching out towards the hairy body with stretched fingers Jon blinks and his normally dark eyes are replaced with white orbs as a lambent blue glow begins to trace the outline of the geometric tattoos on his hands...


Keep Your Cool (Spirit +2): [roll0]
Total= 11
On a 10+ all's well.

If he can get to the manticore of then Jon is going to touch it and Skim the Surface (Spirit+2): [roll1]
Total= 6 :/
On a Miss I deal 1 harm to myself and the target.

Edit: interpreting results- so Jon took a risk and got in there successfully it would seem. But the actual Skim move didn't go so well. Maybe the manticore's mind is too alien or something. I'll leave the details up to you Mr. E. Guess we'll find out for sure if it's a fail after everyone does something in case John gets a bump.

[Xaphan]

I'm kind of relying here on an assumption that religion is as strong here as it was historically
Meanwhile, Abigail is kinda off doing her own thing.
She finds a house close enough to the manticore to be in serious danger, but far enough away that its residents have a solid chance of not being immediately pounced on, and speaks quickly to the face she sees in the window, not giving a chance to respond.
"You and I both know that house isn't going to be standing long if that thing comes any closer. Right now, you're standing in a coffin.
But that thing's distracted right now by the dog." She gestures at Lucia - she'd never been quite sure how good her hearing was in this form. "So, the way I see it, you got two choices. You follow me to safety while you have the chance. Or you help me save these other poor bastards too. They're in you're debt, you live the rest of your life as a hero, and God Himself will see how well you follow His law.
Whichever it is, you need to get out of that coffin. Come on!"
Persuasion [roll0]
EDIT: Abigail has presumably been picking up some tricks from her vampiric patron.

[thenewflesh]

Ophelia watches Abigail talk to Lucia. Right, right, save the innocents, she thinks. He foremost priority is making sure one of the council guards doesn't get torn to shreds by a gigantic beast. She tries to slowly circle around it, watching its every movement, the darting of its eyes, the flicking of its tail.

[Squadfather42]

Deacon keeps slowly moving forward and looks to be trying to slip past the manticore. At the last possible second he turns an attack with his axe handle.

[Mr. E]

Jon’s swirling patterns extend outwards to touch the manticore, and his perception shifts, the scene around him melting like water. The manticore’s mind is a sea, waves beating across it’s surface. The oracle dives down, seeking to understand. A confused jumble of thoughts, emotions, and memories swirl past: cages, bars, deserts, skies of perfect blue and burning smoke blurred into each other. Then the scene changes, and Jon finds himself back on Oak Street.

The street is empty, and burning. Flames lick over the buildings, consuming the rotten wood. A house collapses into, itself clouds of sparks and smoke rising from its carcass. There is no sound, and the vision seems strangely unreal, the colours exaggerated, the shadows too deep. In front of him, kneeling in the centre of the street, is a warrior. Long hair covers its face, and it holds a broken sword in one hand. On either side of the warrior are two figures. One is a silhouette, an outline of shadows against the flames. The other burns, fire licking around the tailored suit he wears.

The two look at Jon, slowly, appraisingly, and then the warrior looks up, broken sword still in hand, and then ground cracks under the oracle’s feet. He falls down and down, and flames engulf him. The pain is sharp and sudden, and then Jon hits the ground, once again in Oak Street. For a brief moment, fire wreaths him and the manticore, then it winks out.

The demi-lion hisses and snarls, then leaps forward, the chain clanging as it is jerked along the pavement. Lucia steps forward and growls, aiming to intercept, but the manticore, moving with sudden speed, slams in shoulder into her chest, knocking her backward and off-balance. It crouches over Jon, poised to strike, then Deacon hacks at it with his axe. The blow leaves a deep cut in its flank, and blood stains its golden coat.

In retaliation, the scorpion’s sting flicks over, attempting to impale the soldier. He dives sideways, and the sting misses his body by an inch, passing through the folds of his woollen coat before embedding itself in the timberwork of one of the houses. The Manticore turns it’s head and lets out a low growl, then lashes out with its claws, slashing at Deacon.

Ophelia and Abigail do not participate in this first phase of the fight. Ophelia’s slow circling of the beast had yielded much useful information, although perhaps the time for waiting had passed.

Abigail’s entreaties, combined with the Manticore’s obvious distraction, bears good fruit. Doors bang as people flood out of their houses, on both sides of the street. Most flee, hurrying away from the fight, but a knot of men and women begins to form near the entrance. Some carry workers tools, others broken bottles, or chair-legs. These few huddle together, clearly planning how to best deal with the approaching threat.


IN SUMMARY:

Jon: takes one harm armour piercing, and finds himself in a nasty spot. Right now the Manticore is distracted by Deacon, but it may not stay that way for long.

Lucia: failed to intimidate of injure the Manticore, but was not injured in return.

Deacon: pinned in place, and with an angry manticore attempting to attack him. He has seconds to avoid taking Harm. The manticore, however, took two harm from his attack.

Ophelia: Holds two on the manticore and is currently not engaged in the developing melee. The manticore holds one on you in return.

Abigail: your efforts to evacuate those farthest away from the combat have been successful, and a mob seems to be forming. On the downside, there are still some trapped in houses which are right next to the fight.

[Squadfather42]

Deacon does his best to dodge the Manticore's attacks. As soon as he sees a chance, Deacon swings his axe, putting what power he can behind the swing.

[Ionbound]

Lucia turns the slam into a roll, landing on her paws as the claws dig scores into the cobblestones. She growls at the beast and lunges back, jaws snapping as she aims to rip the manticore's throat out.

Unleashing an attack: [roll0]

[Xaphan]

Abigail looks nervously at the mob. Having people willing to help is great, but she's not thrilled with them dying in the process. Which if they try attacking the manticore, there's a good chance they might.
"We can leave the fighting to the idiots who are doing it already for now." she says "They seem handling it well, and there's no point in getting ourselves hurt. You're all so very brave to be here, but I'm sure none of you want to get too near that awful thing. If a group of you covers us, me and a few others can get the people who are still trapped in the building out of it, and get everyone to safety. Then we can help with that thing if we need to."
Abigail looks nervously at Deacon and Lucia. Despite what she said, Lucia hasn't landed a scratch on the thing yet, and Deacon looks like he's been backed into a corner. How well they are handling things is, in Abigail's honest oppinion, up for some debate.

[Rowenn552]

Jon
Harm:
minor:
-Psychic Backlash
-open
major:
-open
-open

Jon reels back and screams from his vision and grabbing at his eyes.
Thoughts race through Jon's head, 'This *thing*! it's related somehow to my visions! The THREE, my first *real* lead... I must know more...'

Digging deeper than he's ever done and tapping into something that he's always known he's had access to.
Jon grits his teeth, his eyes go white again and the glow of the tattoos flare as he launches a mental assault on the beast to learn what the Manticore has seen or knows...


This would be a Let it Out. That info on the last miss, whether it's accurate or not, is too juicy to not roll into.
Evil play Mr. E ;P

*crosses fingers*
Let it Out: [roll0]+2 = 8
• taking a point of Corruption for letting it out
• choosing to Extend my supernatural senses

I suppose I could instead choose to take definite hold of something valuable and exposed? That being what this thing knows... that might be a stretch though. To Jon some of that information was exposed on his previous roll albeit a miss so it may be inaccurate.

Feel free to use whichever fits best, in this case they're sort of the same goal: Learn what this thing might know about these three figures.

[thenewflesh]

Ophelia's eyes go a little watery at the opium smell and her eyes dart to the oozing liquid. "No, no, Ophelia, not now, you have a job to do..." she mutters to herself.

The time for diplomacy with the beast would seem to have gone by. She unsheathes her sword and rushes towards the Manticore, hoping to plunge it into the scar.

Unleash: [roll0]

Terrible harm!

[Mr. E]

The crowd growing mob falls silent as Abigail addresses them, hanging between obeying her instructions and following their instincts.
“Aren’t you them’s brat?” One of the dock-workers shouts, a surly faced individual who reeks of cheap alcohol. It’s clear from his intonation that he means the vampires, even if he won’t say their name in public. “What you doing round ‘ere, anyway? Causing trouble, I’d wager”. He looms over Abigail, attempting to overawe her with his, admittedly significant, bulk. “If this is you’re doing, I’ll tear you to pieces, I will…” His threat would be more impressive, was he not obviously swaying from side to side.

“Shaddup, Will.” The voice comes from the developing mob, as another navvie muscles his way to the front. “We’re wasting time here. Now I might not care much if the guard get themselves killed, that’s their job, but some of our people are in danger, an’ they’re worth enough to me. We’ll worry ‘bout who’s to blame afterwards.”

Brusquely issuing orders, the navvy directs his crews to fan out. The workers move in the general direction of the buildings, one heading off to retrieve a ladder. The foreman turns back to Abigail considering her carefully. “Now, I don’t pretend to understand half the business that goes in this street, and I certainly don’t understand that,” he says, gesturing at the brawl occurring not far away. “But I don’t reckon that you caused it, cause I don’t see how that would help you.”

“But word gets around, and there’s some funny stories ‘bout you. Think it’d be best if you didn’t come round here again, unless someone who lives here is ready to vouch for you.” His little speech done, he turns back to organising the rescue effort.

Meanwhile, the conflict further up Oak Street continues. Deacon struggles desperately to free himself as the manticore lashes out, panic sending hot adrenaline surging through his veins. He hacks at the scorpion tail with his axe, causing it to flick backwards, the weapon still embedded in its chitinous armour. However, even as Deacon turns to dive out of the way, the beast’s claws slash at his chest. The blow knocks him sprawling, sending him a couple of metres away from the combat. He can feel his side bruising, and a thin line of blood welling up from two shallow but long cuts.

Lucia throws herself at the half-lion, her claws slashing at it’s side. The manticore’s hide is tough, however, and she fails to do more than superficial damage. It twists with unnatural speed, preventing her from fixing her jaws on it, and throwing her sideways. She slams heavily into a the side of one the houses, snarling frustratedly.

Ophelia, having managed to outflank the beast, does far better with her attack. Focused as it is on Deacon and Lucia, it does not anticipate her strike. The sword blade plunges through the old scar, tearing a deep gash. The manticore hisses in pain and staggers from side to side, the weak leg bending heavily under the weight. Blood stains its bright golden coat red, and liquid splatters onto the street.

As the conflict occurs, Jon is immersed in a conflict of his own. Tracing the thread of the vision backward, he seeks to find the point at which it connects to the manticore in front of him. He wanders in the thick fog of the past, present and future intermingling, following a glowing trail of causality. The trail is tiny, but yet visible, a fine line of fire burning through the smoke.

Suddenly the fog opens out, and he finds himself in muddy courtyard. A cage, this time of steel, surrounds him, and Jon realises that he sees the world through the manticore’s eyes. A worker stands next to a cart, harnessing a horse to the shafts. A large house, decorated in an antique style, dominates one side of the yard, and a door opens, a figure stepping out.

Then the fog comes down, thick and cloying, blocking out the scene. Jon can hear the coachman and the figure speaking, but the words are distorted and unintelligible. Any attempts to get closer are stymied as the fog becomes a stone wall, high and sheer. The line of causality passes through this barrier, and Jon is left stuck on the other side. Whoever the figure was, a powerful enchantment or protection from another oracle surrounds them. Psychic shielding of such strength could only have possibly been created by the most adept of wizards or oracles.


IN SUMMARY
Abigail succeeds in persuading the crowd to help with the rescue efforts, at the price of not being quite so welcome anymore.
Deacon gets away, but takes two harm (-1 for armour, so one harm total), and leaves his axe embedded in the beastie’s tail.
Lucia bounces off the manticore, again!
Ophelia does far better, leaving it pretty much on its last legs.
Jon fails to discover the identity of the three, but does learn some information that should assist in his search.

[thenewflesh]

Dragging her dripping blade out from the monster's side, Ophelia steps between the Manticore and Deacon. She ducks, then with a grunt stabs upwards at its neck.

[roll0]

[Mr. E]

Ophelia's sword cuts deep into the manticore's neck, severing the artery and breaking the bone. A spray of blood splatters from the wound, spattering the tainted with red. Crumpling forward onto the street, the beast falls limply on its side. The poisoned stream gurgles on, the water changing colour as the pooling blood spreads outward. Staring upwards, the manticore's empty eyes seem to gaze at Ophelia, quietly condemning.


The Manticore is now dead, and the guard are victorious. Relatively little harm was taken as well.

As it dies, it spends it last hold to ask Ophelia: why do you kill?


I'll wind up this session once everybody's done any crime scene investigation they wish to, so start thinking about who your character trusts the least, and why.

[thenewflesh]

For Father. Ophelia looks into the Manticore's eyes as it collapses. She kills for Father, when Father tells her to, because Father tells her to. She pulls the blade from its flesh, wiping it on whatever clean part of her outfit is left. Someday she'd escape Father for good, and then she wouldn't have to kill anyone ever again. But for now, the bloodbath would have to continue. Ophelia sheathes her sword and turns towards Lucia and Deacon, and for the first time this evening her lips twitch with a half-smile. "Hope you two didn't get scratched up too bad."

[Squadfather42]

Deacon sits up and coughs the dust from his lungs. Looking around he sees Ophelia step between him and the Manticore. Before Deacon can stand up Ophelia hits the Manticore and finishes it off.

Walking over Deacon stands beside her as the scene comes back to reality. "Thank you lass, You saved me from who knows what. I'll not forget that."

[Mr. E]

The guard walk away from the fight scene, leaving the muttering residents of Oak Street to drag the manticore away, intending to throw its body into the thames. The poisoned stream burbles on, uncaring.

Time passes, like the water that runs in the river. The watches are rearranged. Jon is moved to the day-watch, as is Abigail.

Sitting down around the creaking table, the new crew contemplates the letter. A messenger boy delivered it a few minutes ago. Stamped with the seal of the council, it is short and terse:
We have received information that a consignment of basilisk’s tears is to be landed at Latimer’s creek at midnight tonight. Intercept the smugglers, retrieve or destroy the tears, and discover the intended buyer, if possible.

Latimer’s creek is the product of stream much like that at Oak Street. It joins the Thames on the intersection of South Street and Silversmith’s road. That’s bad country for the guard. Storm (as he calls himself) controls the whole area. Nobody’s exactly sure what he is, other than powerful and not at all fond of authorities. A fondness for explosives, and a general contempt for collateral damage has allowed him to push his way into the ‘too much work’ category for any of the big players.

He is, however, small enough that bribery and flattery can be quite effective. It is now about 4:00 in the afternoon, so the guard has a few hours to organise and make plans. His fondness for detonations, however, would probably make it wise to avoid mentioning the presence of the volatile basilisk’s tear, if at all possible. Storm’s headquarters are in a two story house overlooking Silversmith’s road.

We're back, after a far too long hiatus. It's now the start of a new session, so please do the start of a new session move. Or, to break that down: name the member of the team you trust the least. If you've been named, name a faction. Also, Lucia please do your start of session move.

[Squadfather42]

Deacon sits there as they examine the letter. Thinking about the various options the group had, Deacon finally voices his thoughts.

"It would help if we could get the gang on our side or out of the way. What do you guys suggest?"