Djura's got seniority, as does his burning hatred of the Healing Church, so you figure you'll leave this to him. He probably knows better than you what questions to ask.
"All yours, Djura."
He nods and walks over to the woman, who has made it to her feet and is holding her hands up in surrender. As the old man pats her down for weapons, you turn to the gaggle of Churchmen, many of whom are holding their heads down and shuffling their feet in the defeated posture of those who know that life isn't going to get simpler anytime soon.
"Alright, which o' you's next in charge behind this lady, the dead guy, and Lassie the Wonder Dog?"
Their lack of headwear precludes you from your standard, highly-accurate "who has the biggest hat" assessment.
After a short bout of discussion, a portly man with a chinstrap beard that doesn't look nearly as good on him as he probably thinks it does steps forward. He holds up a hand in greeting.
"Hullo, I'm Vicar Todd. I'd, ah, just been promoted, assigned to one of the western chapels. Vicar Ishmael, the one that Amelia, ah, flattened, he told me that I'd, how did he put it, 'learn the higher Truths' of the Church very soon. I promise you, I knew nothing of this. Swear to it."
"Todd's a good bloke," one of the Hunters calls out.
"That's Johnathan, we've been mates for ages."
You look between the two, scrutinizing Todd's sweat-stained robes and the somewhat-discreet thumbs-up Johnathan is directing at you. You suppose you'll have to make do.
"So what's the deal with Amelia here?"
"Amelia? Amelia's, ah, she's a bit of a zealot, really. Was, I mean. Might still be now, can't be too sure. Fast riser, hasn't been here four years and she's a Vicar. Word is Ishmael found her on the street and took her in, which has, ah, worked out well for him, as you can see. Never did talk much; ate until she felt pious, prayed until she was tired, slept until she was hungry."
You nod understandingly, being an expert in the field of raising terrifying orphans.
"Ye wouldn't have a secret 'turn her back ta normal' potion, would ye?"
The portly man wrings his fingers together before reaching up to wipe off his forehead. Really, having this many people cooped up in one space while wearing voluminous robes was heatstroke waiting to happen.
"Well, as you can see, we've, ah, not had terribly much success curing the plague, hence our current tribulations. And if you are correct and the 'plague' is actually just a product of the blood, well, that's all we really have to offer, and I believe that would prove counterproductive."
You shrug. It was worth a shot.
"If you, ah, don't mind me asking, what exactly is this 'Catholic Church' you mentioned?"
"Oh, we worship the one true God, all-knowing and all-loving and all-powerful."
"That's rather refreshingly direct, I must say. There's not a lot of concrete information on the Great Ones other than that do you hear something?
You cock an ear, as do Djura and the returned Steffon. Now that you're paying attention, you hear the booming of a bell. As the clangs pile up, the woman's face gets progressively whiter until you can just about see through it. At twelve, Todd merely says "Oh, dear."
"What?"
"Well, ah, we were always told that if that particular bell ever hit twelve, we were to, ah, immediately evacuate."
"What, evacuate the Cathedral?"
"No, the city."
"Twelve chimes," the woman breathes, "means that the Artificial Hunter is loose."
"Which in turn means?" you ask.
"We're going to die."
Something occurs to you. You punched through their line without much trouble. Said line broke entirely once you were in. You and two of your biggest hitters are currently in a large building in the middle of enemy territory with only one way in or out, along with any Churchmen that willingly surrendered.
And now something's banging on the door.
[] Write in...
