Anderson Quest: Killing Vampires and Werewolves and Leprechauns (Hellsing/Bloodborne)

[Tricia]

A corpse, either recent or incredibly well-preserved, lies crumpled at the base of one of the statues. What looks like a red snowflake sits in its palms, reflecting the fitful candlelight. As you kneel to inspect it more closely, the indentations in your sword that Gehrman pointed out come to mind.

You're still firmly on the "don't touch the heathen blood magic" side of things, so you simply note its location before continuing your trek downwards.

You remind yourself that A: you don't know how where Djura might be and B: that you want to make a good first impression. This will, unfortunately, rule out your standard disregard for the sanctity of life. Time for some (ugh) subtlety.

You creep down the winding stair as best you can, hugging the wall tightly so as to minimize the sounds of your footfalls. Before long, you reach another open area, this one dotted with support pillars. The buzzing of flies draws your attention to the left-hand wall, where the emaciated remains of a werewolf fill the air with a smell akin to a clogged chemical toilet. Its body is mangy and covered with rancid pustules; to the best of your knowledge, said marks are pre-mortem. Did someone poison the thing?

The next flight of steps is wooden rather than stone, leading to a torn section of planks that you descend from via ladder. A quick trip down another, unconnected set of steps and you're in yet another chapel.

This one is significantly worse for wear compared to the ones above, as is to be expected. Green stalks nearly as tall as you dot the floor where the stones have been broken or removed, while the last dregs of evening light slip in through spiderweb cracks in the high walls. You stroll over and light the lantern that squats in the center. Damn, these are handy.

Heavy wooden doors separate you from the outside world. A large sheet of paper is plastered to them; though the writing has faded quite a bit, the letters are large and thick enough to remain legible.

"This town is long abandoned. Hunters not wanted here."

Well, it ain't the 95 Theses, but it gets the point across.

Technically, you're not a Hunter, though. With a grunt, you shove the great doors open and step into the smoldering remains of Old Yharnam.

The general architecture is highly reminiscent of Yharnam 2.0, complete with the random burning beasts on crosses. You spend a few moments internally debating various theories on how they're still lit, with "fire gnomes" on the way to victory, before a booming voice rings out from the skyline.

"You there, Hunter. Didn't you see the warning? Turn back at once. Old Yharnam, burned and abandoned by men, is now home only to beasts. They are of no harm to those above. Turn back, or the hunter will face the hunt."

[] Write in...

 

[Tricia]

You glance around, careful not to make any threatening movements, to try and pinpoint the source of the voice. You spot him right at the edge of your vision, a dark speck atop one of Old Yharnam's many assorted towers. He's standing behind a much bulkier speck, one which you're pretty sure can provide you with many, many more specks at uncomfortably high speeds.

"I ain't a Hunter, ye ol' coot. The name's Father Alexander Anderson, of the Roman Catholic Church. I'm here ta find a man by the name o' Djura ta see about gettin' his aid in doin' the LORD's work. And by 'doin' the LORD's work,' I mean messin' up the heathen bastards responsible for this whole mess. I heard the ornery bastards that holed up in this here hellhole figured out the truth behind what started sendin' everythin' ta shit, and the way I see it, ye can never have too many hands on deck when slaughterin' bastards that condemn innocents ta some crap out of a half-assed Lovecraft story."

You watch the speck pause for a moment before hurrying over to the edge of the tower and leaning down. Before long, he's joined by a second speck and the two have what you believe to be a heated argument. You did give them a lot to process, to be fair. Still, if you're any judge of awkward silences, they'll find something to say right about...

"Why should we trust you?"

There we go.

"Why wouldn't ye? What possible other reason would I have for goin' down here? It was a right pain in the arse ta get here, and if I was out ta kill beasties, I've got plenty of options ta choose from aboveground, and at least up there everythin' isn't on fire."

The two continue their argument for a short while. You wave to a stunted wolf-like creature that's watching you from a short distance away. Maybe a sign of friendliness will help sway them.

"How's the family?" you ask. It hisses at you, which you're fairly certain is an egregious breach of social etiquette. Might just be a sensitive subject, though.

"Come to the tower. Carry a flame with you and the beasts will leave you alone. My weapon will be trained on you at all times. Should you harm any of the beasts or attempt to harm me, you will die."

You manage to leash your instinctual urge to talk some trash right back just in time. Do not anger crazy Gatling man. You consider asking him to confirm your fire gnome theory but don't want to ruin the mystery. You pull out a chunk of wood from one of the burning crosses and begin your trek across the smoking carcass of Old Yharnam.

True to his words, the beasts keep a fair distance, visibly recoiling any time you get within a handful of yards. A handful, which have their heads covered, are a little more aggressive, but aren't even close to matching your speed. You skedaddle past them without any real trouble.

As you'd suspected from your initial view, Yharnam 2.0 wasn't a huge stylistic leap from the original. Save for the fire, crumbling stone, and peeling walls, the city's structure is virtually identical to that of its descendant. You note that the gunman has practically no blind spots along your route; they did a damn good job of fortifying the place.

After a handful of steaming plazas, decrepit chapels, and worn-down homes, you pass through a doorway and are abruptly greeted by a serrated blade on your neck. You follow the blade down to a ragged handle, ragged arm, and ragged face.

"Drop the torch. Hands where I can see them."

You comply in the most non-threatening manner you can, which, since you're still Alexander Anderson, is pretty damn threatening. The man nods upwards and you follow his gaze.

Damn, that gun would be beautiful if it wasn't pointed directly at your face.

You can just about make out the face of the person manning it. He's wrinkled and gray, a spitting image of the ashen city he calls home. You'd seen the worn-out places and the worn-out faces did not disappoint.

"You," the man above says, "are going to stand there and tell me everything. Who you are, why you're here. Lie, and I kill you. Make a move towards me or Steffon, and I kill you. Speak."

[] Give him the whole story

[] Give him some of the story (how much?)

[] Write in...

 

[Tricia]

As you have several times before on this night, you relay your bizarre adventure while trying very hard not to sneeze, cough, or make any sudden movements whatsoever. This severely curtails your ability to give dramatic moments the massive, sweeping gestures they deserve. A handful of beasts come to investigate the commotion, but back off when the old man yells at them.

Midway through, you realize that your story is getting less and less plausible-sounding at an alarming rate. While this may make it hard to swallow, it also means any future embellishments can be inserted with relative ease. If this keeps up, you should be able to claim you fought three goatwolfgorillas at the same time by sunrise.

"...and now I'm here, talkin' ta you."

Steffon, whose arm has been trembling for several minutes now with the strain of holding that saw up to your neck, sags with relief.

"You understand that this is rather difficult to believe, correct?" the old man says.

"I literally have no reason ta lie. Not even a shitty one. I wouldn't have walked through a burnin', beast-ridden hellhole towards a fuckin' minigun if we didn't need yer help."

"True enough, but why would Eileen want my help? The last time we spoke-"

"You were shootin' at her with that gun. I've heard the story. The fact is, we want to do some good tonight, and we need ye for that. Plus, I think she could do with havin' an old friend around after what happened ta Gascoigne."

You can see his jaw clench at the mention of the late Father, as it had during your retelling of his death. He backs up from the minigun and begins pacing around the tower.

"Who'll protect the beasts if I leave?"

"Do they need yer protection? I told ye, this place is sealed off. The Church had someone watchin' over the entrance. The only thing they have ta worry about is each other."

"He has a point," Steffon says from beside you. "We haven't even had any idiots looking to 'plunder the lost riches of Old Yharnam' in years."

Djura continues frowning and pacing.

"How've ye guys spent the off-time, if ye don't mind me askin'?" you whisper to Steffon.

"We took over some abandoned farmland; that keeps us pretty busy. Plus, we've named a few of the beasts and..."

He looks guilty.

"...you know, sometimes they'll form relationships and sometimes we want two specific ones to wind up together and-"

"Giant monsters from beyond are responsible for all of this," the old man muses out loud. "If you're telling the truth, this is something I want to be part of. To stop the Church and stop the Hunt for good."

"And ta put that gun ta good use?" you grin.

"That, too, I suppose." He walks back to the device in question and, with a few unseen tweaks, lifts the barrel assembly free of the mount and begins taking it apart. "I told myself I was no longer interested in matters further up, but this is an opportunity I can't pass up.

"Steffon," he barks, "I'll get the gun packed. Get the rest of the cache and traveling supplies. Take Father Anderson with you."

The younger man nods and motions for you to follow him, striking a torch as he leads you away from the tower.

"Not even a 'please,'" you say once you're out of sight, shaking your head. "Is he always like that?"

Steffon looks around a few times to confirm that there's several buildings between him and Djura before nodding.

[] Talk to Steffon
-[] About?

[] Go back and talk to Djura
-[] About?

[] Write in...

 

[Tricia]

The two of you walk through the multi-layered ruin with little difficulty. As before, the majority of the beasts you see keep their distance, while sharp barks from Steffon ward off the remainder.

"Y"know, I'm curious," you tell him as the two of you enter a burned-out warehouse loaded with exotic weaponry. "The beasts aboveground don't give a shit about fire, and I don't think they have a big issue with screamin', neither. What's up with these ones?"

"It's a combination of things," he says, pointing towards a cluster of firearms. "That one there, the one with a bayonet. I think a lot of them have lingering trauma from when the Church burned the city down. The aggressive ones, Djura and I just punched in the face and yelled at until they went away. They got the hint before long."

"Shit," he grumbles. "Roof had a leak since the last time I checked it. Think these blades are still good?"

"Not with that much rust. That big curved one might be alright. How long have you two been here?"

"I can't even tell at this point; you can't exactly tell time here. We lost a couple harvests early on before we got wise to the seasons. It's gotta be a few years at least. Didn't have a gray hair on my head when we first arrived."

He bundles up the weapons into a thick pack and hoists it onto his back with surprisingly-little effort. "Come on, the food and water stores are about a mile east."

"It wasn't just the two of us originally," he tells you. "There were about a dozen of us originally sent to clean up the beasts and we all stuck with Djura when he decided to stay. Four of them left about two weeks in, said it was just the heat of the moment and that they had lives aboveground. Lost a couple to sickness and the rest to the big bastard that lives down there." He points to a large chapel in the near distance, the path to which is lined with a bevy of burning crosses.

"What, the local Grand Dragon?"

"Never heard of that. No, just a real big, real mean beast that breathes poison. Ambushed us while we were scavenging for leftover supplies."

You reach a large barn, surprisingly untouched by the flames. Veggies and potatoes in various stages of adulthood line the carefully-maintained fields. Inside, the food stockpile is impeccably organized, most likely a product of the pair's never-ending boredom.

"So what made ye stay?"

"Owed a debt to Djura. He got me out of a bad place when I was younger." He spends a few moments carefully scrutinizing a pair of plump tubers before shrugging and putting them both in his pack. "Plus, and don't you dare tell him I said this, he needs someone to watch out for him. He's impulsive and stubborn at the same time, so he'll make rash decisions and then stick with them out of sheer thick-headedness. Hence..." He gestures to the burning hellscape in which he and Djura are trying to drag sustenance from dying earth, isolated from the outside world and alone save for a horde of mindlessly violent horrors.

You help him pack up some tins of water and an assortment of produce. He declines your offer to shoulder some of the load, locks up the barn, and bids you to follow him back to the tower.

"Djura's a good man and he's not stupid. He knows the beasts aren't in any real danger, but he's stubborn and he's afraid to go back aboveground after burning so many bridges. Pretending to need convincing was his way of saving face; he's been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time. We're both very grateful for the chance to do some good."

He smiles. "Plus, these potatoes taste fucking awful."

Djura's waiting for you at the base of the tower, lugging a massive case with one hand. From this distance, you can see just how bulky he is, particularly his upper body. Probably needs that kind of build to handle his contraptions' recoil.

"Let's go," he says, turning on his heel and marching towards Yharnam.

[] Talk to Djura
-[] About?

[] Keep talking to Steffon
-[] About?

[] Stay quiet, skip directly to Yharnam arrival

[] Write in...

 

[Tricia]

You find yourself actually struggling to keep up with the pair, who move through the labyrinthine ruins with incredible ease despite the massive loads they're shouldering. They weave through nooks and shortcuts it would have taken you three weeks and two sherpas to find; the only reason you manage to catch up with them is because they stop at one of the city's higher points to regard something in the distance.

When you join them, Djura points towards the chapel with the vibrant lawn ornaments. You can just make out a...something scuttling about. It almost looks like it's wearing a shawl, although the finer details elude you.

"Been a while since it was this antsy," says Steffon. "Don't think we've seen it at all in, what, a couple weeks?"

"Couple weeks," Djura agrees. "I just hope it doesn't get to Phyllis. She and Reginald are really starting to hit it off."

It's virtually a straight shot from your current position to the chapel connecting this place to Yharnam, allowing you to keep pace with the duo. You match speed with Djura and turn to him.

"So what are yer rules o' engagement, while we're working together? Are ye gonna have a problem with killin' any beasties, or is it just the ones down here ye want alive? Cause most o' the ones topside aren't so easy to scare off. While we're on the subject piss off ye bitey bastard."

Djura shoos away the inquisitive beast and motions for you to continue.

"Right, thanks. While we're on the subject, what exactly was it that made you want ta protect these ones in the first place? Yeah, they used ta be people, and now they're mindlessly violent furry people, but so are all beasties, and none o' the other hunters seem ta particularly care."

"I will defend civilians and our allies to the best of my abilities if they are threatened. I will not, however, go out of my way to hunt those beasts that do not present a clear and present danger." The three of you catch sight of your destination and pick up the pace. "What makes these beasts different is that they pose no threat to anyone aboveground. By the time they sent in the Powder Kegs, there were no civilians left in Old Yharnam to protect. The Church expected us to kill them simply because of what they were."

Djura bars the door behind you once you're all inside. You lead the way back upwards while the Powder Kegs regard the crumbling architecture with some trepidation.

"I know you think me a fool, Father Anderson," says Djura. "I am well aware of what the plague does to the mind and I am well aware of the threat the infected pose to innocents. But, again, there was nobody left to protect in Old Yharnam. Why kill a predator for simply existing? They are living, thinking creatures; we have no right to destroy them.

You've got to admit, his I Am Legend spiel is a lot better than that one asshole's.

The two pause to examine the werewolf carcass just below the seal.

"See these lesions? Definitely from the big one."

"No question. How in the world did it manage to get this far after getting hit, though?"

"Tough old bastard."

"Shame."

The two rise and examine the ceiling, seeing no way through.

"Did you bring the cannon, Steffon?"

"No no, no need for that," you hurriedly say, waving your hands back and forth. "I've got a trick ta get through, then I can open it up for ye guys."

"Don't tell me; there's a lever not thirty feet from here, isn't there?"

"Yep."

Djura gives an exasperated sigh.

"I can't believe they used him again. The man's a complete idiot."

"He's also the most famous architect in Yharnam history," Steffon offers

"That's only because he built a few bigwigs' mansions a long time ago and everyone wanted to be 'in style.'"

You leave the old men to their grumbling and teleport into the less incendiary of the two Yharnams. From the upper balcony, Alfred starts at your sudden intrusion.

"You know, you could have just knocked on the bottom of the altar and I'd have opened it," he says.

"Aye, but what if ye'd gone and gotten yerself eaten while I was out?"

"True enough. Shall I?"

"If ye don't mind. Got two old guys bitchin' about architecture down there."

"There were survivors? Damn." He shakes his head and walks over to the lever. "They made them out of something else back in the day. You're certain nothing followed you?"

"Not a thing."

"Right."

The altar slides open and the two mean walk out. They spend several moments just looking around at the architecture and breathing in the air.

"Is this what it smells like when everything isn't on fire? I'd forgotten," Steffon admits.

[] Talk to Alfred
-[] About?

[] Talk to Djura and Steffon
-[] About?

[] Skip to Oedon Chapel

[] Write in...

 

[Tricia]

"Right," you say, clapping your hands together, "I think some introductions are in order. Alfred, this is Djura and Steffon from the Powder Kegs. Djura and Steffon, this is Alfred from the Executioners."

"Charmed," says Alfred in the careful tone of one addressing three heavily-armed lunatics.

"The Executioners are still around? I thought you lot disbanded after Logarius's little adventure," says Djura.

"I joined after Master Logarius' sacrifice. And I would advise you not to make light of it, old man."

In an impressive display of non-verbal coordination, you and Steffon each underhook one of Djura's arms and hoist him into the air before he can respond.

"Well it was great talkin' ta ye but I think we'd better get going good luck with the vampires bye," you say as you carry the protesting Hunter outside.

"What exactly are you three planning to do?" Alfred asks.

"We're gonna change the world," you answer as you avoid Djura's retaliatory headbutts.

The last thing you hear from the Executioner before you make it outside is "Every single word that comes out of your mouth utterly terrifies me."

You continue carrying Djura for about another hundred yards before his desire to "turn that upstart blonde turd into mulch" devolves into grumbling over the current generation's lack of respect for the elderly and you put him down without incident. The three of you trek back to Oedon Chapel, you and Steffon nodding along with the retired Hunter's woes.

"Wait, hold on," you say as the towering structure comes into sight. You retrieve a pair of crosses from your sleeve and hand them to the pair. "I've put a ward on the chapel; these'll let ye get in and out without gettin' incinerated."

The two look perplexed as they pocket the little icons, although it's nothing compared to the looks of abject bafflement they give at the sight of what's left of the monstrous Mediocre One you killed earlier.

"That's one of them? That's what the Church worships?" Steffon breathes.

"Aye. See why we need yer help now?"

He doesn't answer, instead stepping up to examine it alongside Djura. You temporarily will your anti-scavenger ward away so the pair can examine it closely.

"There was more of it before," you tell them. "Cut off a few bits here'n there for weaponization purposes."

You give them a few minutes to pore over the body, prodding and knocking on various bits of it.

"You did bring the cannon, didn't you?" Djura asks his partner.

"And the extra ammo belts."

"Good."

Finally, the two get to their feet and, together, you walk towards the chapel. Remembering your code, you knock five times, pause, and then knock another four times. You hear a sequence of cautious footsteps and the click-clacking of locks being undone before the door swings open, revealing the armed form of Eileen. Her mask regards you and your compatriots impassively, eventually settling on the younger of the Powder Kegs.

"'Steffon,' wasn't it? I was afraid you'd followed that old fool to your death."

He grins sheepishly. "Not yet, at least."

She then turns to Djura, although he pushes past her before she can speak.

"Djura-"

"Is there an easy way to access the roof? We should get the turrets installed right away."

"Djura-"

"Are there any specific directions you're expecting attacks from?"

"DJURA!"

The old man stops in his tracks and sighs, his broad shoulders slumping. He turns to face Eileen, eyes downcast.

"Djura, let's talk," she says. "We have a lot to discuss and it wouldn't do to leave it hanging over our heads. Steffon, speak to Agatha over there about how to access the upper levels and start setting up."

The younger man nods, takes the huge case from Djura's hands, and makes his way over to the blind Dweller, who's presently trying to help Iosefka and the kids set up a series of operating tables. Djura and Eileen find a pair of chairs and sit down in the opposite corner.

[] Talk to Iosefka
-[] About?

[] Help Steffon set up the turrets

[] Go to
-[] Grand Cathedral
-[] Other

 

[Tricia]

You walk over towards Agatha and the kids once Steffon's been properly directed, rolling your shoulders.

"May I offer some assistance?" you ask the blind man.

"Oh, hello, Father Anderson. I would certainly appreciate it, thank you."

You reach down and take the table from his hands, moving it quickly into position. With your aid, Iosefka and the girls have half a dozen beds and IV stands up in short order. Iosefka wipes off her brow and regards the two rows proudly.

"Yer trip go alright?" you ask her.

"No issues, thankfully. We had a bit of trouble getting some of the supplies up the ladder, but Eileen managed it. That woman is unbelievably strong."

"Aye, she's somethin'. How about you two?" you say, turning to the girls.

"It smells," Fiddle replies. "All the dead things make everything smell awful."

Hopefully, Yharnam is as advanced in therapy as it is in candles.

"We're doing well, Father," says Emma. "Who are those men you brought with you?"

"Eileen's old friends. That one she's talkin' to is Djura and the chap that just went upstairs in Steffon. They're here ta help us."

"Daddy told us about Djura," Fiddle chimes in. "He said Djura was a 'crazy son-of-a-bitch.'"

"Well, he wasn't wrong," you say with a weak grin, "but Djura's one of the good guys. He'll protect ye, I promise."

The four of you look over your handiwork in awkward silence for a moment.

"Ye guys know that if ye ever want ta talk ta anyone, I'm here, right? I'm always willin' ta listen, no matter what it is."

"Thank you, Father," Emma replies. You fumble for something else to say before remembering that the Powder Kegs brought munchies.

"If any of ye're hungry, Steffon brought some food in those sacks over there. He says the potatoes ain't great, but there's plenty ta choose from."

The girls' eyes light up at the mention of food and they scurry over side-by-side.

"There's some water, too. Just don't drink too much," you call after them.

You and Iosefka smile as they tear into some fruit with gusto, trials and tribulations and table manners all forgotten. You frown when you realize that this is probably the only time they've gotten to be kids all night.

"How are they?" you ask the doctor.

"As far as I can tell, they're alright. They're being very helpful, but I get the sense they're trying to stay occupied so they won't have to think too hard about what happened." She sighs. "Tonight's not the hard part for them."

You nod grimly.

"And you?" you say.

"It's still overwhelming. Everything we've done, everything we're going to do. That thing outside; I can't stop thinking about how there's more of them, and we have no way of knowing where they are."

"Those things're nothin' before the power o' God. He proved it once tonight and He'll prove it again and again, no matter how many of those monsters come after us."

She walks towards the nearest corner, in which she's piled up some worn medical texts, and digs through the mess until she finds her copy of the Word. You note that the back cover still has a sizable dent in it.

"I haven't had much time to read it," she admits, "but thank you again for this. And for the cross you gave me. It feels good to know there's someone looking after you."

"Doesn't it? Whether through me or through the others, the LORD will always protect His children." You grin. "Nothin's gonna stop us. We're on a mission from God."

Comforts in Yharnam are at a premium. You're glad you could offer her one.

[] Keep talking to Iosefka
-[] About?

[] Help Steffon with turret setup

[] Speak to Eileen or Djura after they finish talking

[] Go to
-[] Grant Cathedral
-[] Old Yharnam
-[] Other (write in)

[] Write in...

 

[Tricia]

"I'm gonna go help Steffon get all his toys ready. Would ye mind askin' Eileen and Djura ta join us upstairs when they're done? I'm thinkin' it's time for a proper war council."

Iosefka nods. "I think I'll join the girls for a snack. Did they really manage to grow all of that in Old Yharnam?"

"I'm as surprised as you are. They're really not the sort ye'd peg ta have green thumbs."

The doctor walks over towards the girls while you make your way towards Agatha, who points you towards a hidden door along the near wall.

"The Church used this chapel while the Grand Cathedral was under construction. They didn't want anyone accidentally wandering into the upper levels during service," he explains.

"What, were there secret dealin's they wanted ta hide from the masses?"

"I suppose, but mostly it was because the builders didn't do a great job on the upper floors and a Vicar turned his ankle when some of the bricks fell out."

"Lowest bidder?"

"Lowest bidder."

You make your way up the disguised steps with newfound caution, eventually emerging into the windy twilight via trap door. Steffon is still unpacking the ludicrous amount of munitions he and Djura crammed into their luggage and waves at you from the Cathedral-ward edge of the roof. You head over to him, avoiding the gouges where the Mediocre One had anchored itself during your clash. Once there, he points out the Grand Cathedral massive and imperious in the near distance.

"Think we could bombard 'em from here?" you ask as you sit beside him.

Steffon breathes in and blows it out slowly, scrutinizing the great structure.

"Maybe?" he offers. "We've got a mortar we were working on but I'm not sure how consistent it is. Plus, our line of sight isn't perfect, so it would be hard to adjust between shots, not to mention the wind. Not worth the hassle in my opinion."

"Fair enough."

The two of you manage to get the minigun up and working in a surprisingly short amount of time. You set it up to cover the visible paths from here to the Cathedral, then arrange rifles and ammo at strategic locations around the roof. The big cannon is kept loaded, but with its tripod stand folded for ease of repositioning.

"We haven't got many shots and this thing's easier to set up than take down," Steffon explains.

Eileen and Djura arrive while you're filling the thing with powder and arranging the remaining cannonballs. The elder Powder Keg scrutinizes your arrangement and you cringe in preparation for a nightmare of "a little to the left; no, my left."

Thankfully, Djura is either satisfied with your work or too worn out from opening his heart instead of somebody else's and simply gives you a curt nod.

"So, are we having this 'war council' up here, then?" Eileen asks.

"Figured, y'know, why not? We've got a good view o' the surroundin's and the breeze is nice," you reply. "Plus, I don't trust subcontracted labor and I think some o' the lower floors kinda exploded when I fought that big bastard."

"Good enough reasons as any. I brought some water," she says. You each take a tin gratefully and take a seat near the minigun. Djura takes a long drink.

"So, Father Anderson, " he asks, wiping his mouth, "how do you wish to proceed?"

[] Assault Grand Cathedral

[] Look for more civilians before attacking

[] Try to get to Upper Cathedral Ward

[] Write in...

Note: this is not binding. It's merely Anderson's first suggestion to the council.

 

[Tricia]

"Well," you say, "I suppose step one would be gettin' as many civilians as possible out o' the firin' line before things get hairy. Or they do. It's been a crapshoot so far, but I assume there are places we haven't looked yet?"

"There are some homes not far from the Grand Cathedral that might be worth checking," Eileen replies. "The only issue is that the only convenient access point is through the Cathedral's plaza, which is likely crawling with giants at this point."

"Think we could take 'em?" you ask.

"Oh, certainly. Taking them out without causing a scene, that's another issue entirely."

"Has the layout changed recently?" Djura asks her.

"Not since you left, no."

The old man nods and furrows his brows in concentration.

"Ye said that's the only 'convenient' route. Is there another one?"

"There might be a back way, but it's well-hidden and time-consuming. Plus, if we wind up having to fight near the homes, we'll draw attention no matter what we do."

"Misdirection, then?" Steffon offers. "See if we can't draw the beasts into the plaza and get the civilians out while the giants are occupied?" He realizes what he just said and looks towards Djura with fear in his eyes.

"Can't say I approve of using the beasts as pawns, but we need them out of the way to help the innocents," he says. Steffon sags with relief. "I'm not sure they're enough, though, especially if the Church has any Hunters in reserve. Eileen, any idea what their numbers are like?"

"They've been dropping; people have been less and less inclined to join as the Hunts have gotten worse. Unless they've completely abandoned everything outside of Cathedral Ward, they shouldn't have enough to handle a large number of beasts."

"That's assuming we have a large number," says Steffon.

"We don't need that many," you say. "One of us is worth any number o' Church gobshites."

"Hm. One person in the fray, one person ferrying the civilians out, and one forcing their way into the Cathedral could work," says Eileen. "I'd recommend some reconnaissance first, though."

"We're running out of daylight," Djura objects.

"Moonlight should be sufficient."

He frowns, but offers no further complaint.

"Before we talk any further, what are your capabilities, Father Anderson?" Eileen asks. "I've seen the bayonets and the wards, but is there anything else?"

"Aye. I can teleport if need be, so long as I know the location or at least how far away I am from it."

"So you'd be able to return to the Chapel during the fighting in an emergency?"

"Certainly."

"We could have all four of us out, then," says Steffon. "We could give the doctor a signal to use if the Chapel was attacked and Father Anderson could recall. It wouldn't take me long to teach her how to man the gun.

"Not just that," he continues, "if all we need to do is determine the distance and direction to any point, whoever's doing recon could signal to Father Anderson once in position and he could join them without drawing attention."

"That's assumin' I could measure the distance by sight," you say.

"I could," says Djura.

"I'm just offering suggestions," the younger man says. You can tell he's enjoying having to rack his brain after so many years of "grow potato, eat potato, shoot dumbass."

"Wait," you say. "We'd be goin' all-out on Grand Cathedral. Are there any other points o' interest?"

"Not on a night of the Hunt," Eileen replies. "There are a few Church-run clinics nearby, but I believe the leadership congregates in the Cathedral. They probably don't feel comfortable without a few giants between them and the beasts."

"What about that 'Upper Cathedral Ward' Agatha mentioned?"

You can tell from the Powder Kegs' puzzled looks that this is the first they'd heard of it.

"I'm not sure," she admits. "I know nothing of the place."

"Could be worth scoutin', then."

"Time is an issue," Djura reminds you. "I assume you made a ruckus when you slew that monster down there. We don't want to give them any more time to prepare."

"Moving without complete information is a mistake," says Eileen. You and Djura, both men accustomed to shooting first and asking questions never, share a look.

There's a lot to consider; you catch yourself preparing to call Maxwell and make him deal with the planning before remembering that zombies ate his face. You're pretty sure they ate your phone, too.

[] Attempt to breach Upper Cathedral Ward before the attack
-[] Plan?

[] Hit Grand Cathedral
-[] Propose new plan/go with misdirection
-[] Who rescues, who attacks, who moves civilians, who (if anyone) stays back?
-[] Further details?

[] Continue discussion before committing
-[] Questions?

[] Write in...

 

[Tricia]

"I'm with the Beastie Boys on this one," you say.

"Powder Kegs."

"Same thing. We can't give 'em any more time ta get organized."

Eileen projects her frown through her mask with impressive fidelity.

"I'd prefer a look at Upper Cathedral Ward before we move, but I'll follow your plan."

"It's a valid complaint," you say, "but we're on the clock." You look around at the three veteran Hunters. "Any recommendations for who does what?"

"Eileen is the only one of us the Church won't kill on sight," says Djura. "If we want to do recon, she's the best choice."

"I'll move the civilians as well. With all due respect, you three aren't terribly subtle."

"Yeah."

"True."

"That's fair."

"Djura and Steffon," you say, "you two know beasts better than I do. I'll hit the leadership while you two herd the fuzzy bastards and deal with whatever the Church throws at us."

"So we're leaving Iosefka to guard the Chapel?" Eileen asks.

"It took a false god the size of a house throwin' a tantrum ta break the ward last time; I think it can handle a buncha pissed-off heathens. And if anything goes wrong I can come back and deal with it.

"Also, four Hunters and a legion o' vicious beasts tend ta inhibit tactical thinkin'."

The other three seem satisfied with this arrangement. Djura cracks his neck dramatically, only for it to produce a sickening pop and remain locked at a sixty-degree angle. He waves off your offered assistance and attempts to massage his protesting vertebrae back into shape.

You were going to say something badass and walk back down to ground level together with your coats billowing in the wind in the sort of power walk that demands a slow-mo shot and a mid-eighties stadium rock soundtrack, but that kind of killed the mood.

Iosefka is reading the Bible with the girls when you four step out of the hidden stairwell. Judging by the open page, she's still in the first third of the Old Testament. She waves as you enter and you walk towards her alongside Steffon.

"Could we talk for a moment, doctor?" you ask. She nods, looks down to memorize the page number, and gets to her feet. The three of you walk towards an opposite corner and you take a deep breath before speaking.

"We're going to attack Grand Cathedral. We need yer help."

She bites her lip, but otherwise maintains a stoic expression in the face of this announcement.

"What do you need me to do?"

"The four of us will move out soon. We need ye ta protect the chapel. The ward should be able ta take anythin' they can dish out, but Steffon can teach ye how ta use the guns we've set up on the roof."

"I took an oath to do no harm, Father Anderson."

"I know that, and I swear that after tonight I'll never ask such a thing of ye again. But this is war, Iosefka."

She doesn't respond, instead trembling. You put a hand on her shoulder.

"If yer not comfortable, we can make a signal for ye ta use if somethin' goes wrong and I'll come right back, okay?"

She nods, still conflicted. You turn to Steffon.

"I need ta go back ta the dream for a moment. If ye've got some sort o' smoke grenades or anythin' else ye can signal with, get 'em ready while ye show the doctor around." You take a step towards the lantern before remembering something. "Before ye go, Doctor, would ye mind fixin' Djura's neck? It's kinda creepin' me out."

The man in question is currently arguing with Eileen while both of them pantomime assorted neck-fixing maneuvers that you're pretty sure the human spine wasn't built to withstand.

Steffon and the doctor make their way over to the duo while you grasp the lantern. The endless sky and the lonely Workshop is as static as ever, save for a handful of smoldering holes in the wooden walls. You'd be a bit more concerned about them if Hope wasn't fast asleep on her ledge again, a handful of messengers snoozing against her lap.

[] Talk to Hope
-[] About?

[] Go straight to Gehrman

[] Write in...