You return to your feet, hopping a couple of times to get the feeling back in your legs, and turn towards your caretakers.
"Well, the club's all fixed and I've got me a target. I'm about ta head ta Upper Cathedral Ward; there's a lot o' righteous punishment that needs dealin' out and we're short on Hellfire and brimstone. Think ye can hold the fort and handle this lot while I'm out?"
"Not on your life, Anderson," Eileen replies before Iosefka can get a word in. "Not when the old men got to join you on the front lines last time. They're better at point-defence than I am, anyway. Them and the two Hunters you managed to recruit ought to be plenty."
You shrug. "Fair enough."
"I'll find things to keep the Churchmen occupied," says Iosefka. "The beds will be ready if you find any survivors up there."
"Speakin' o' survivors," you say, "the geezers and I-"
"Heard that," says Steffon, stepping out from the stairwell to grab some questionable-looking corn from the food stash.
"The crotchety old fucks and I," you say, disregarding his middle finger as he re-enters the hidden door, "ran inta an interestin' case. Either o' you happen ta know 'Vicar Amelia?'"
"In passing," Iosefka replies while Eileen shakes her head after a moment's pondering. "Just word-of-mouth, really. I'd heard she was very devoted to her work, but nothing specific."
"Well, turns out the good blood guided her wrong. She went Beast Mode on us in the Cathedral, but she didn't just get fuzzy. She turned inta this huge dog-deer thing with nasty big pointy teeth." You curl three fingers and hold them up by your mouth for emphasis.
"Only thing like it I've seen was the goatwolfgorilla I fought on the bridge, but that thing was just an animal. This woman was praying after she turned. Honestly, I'm not sure what ta do with her, so I just stuck 'er in a ward. Any ideas?"
"Praying?" asks a surprised-sounding Eileen. "Are you sure?"
"She was lookin' down with her hands together, so it's either that or she smashed a fly and felt really bad about it."
"It might not be that strange," says Iosefka with a hand on her chin. "If she was zealous enough in life, that compulsion could have lingered once she changed."
"Does that mean she's still in there?" you ask.
"It's not definitive," the doctor answers. "Did she show any other signs of intelligence?"
"None."
"If she's behind a ward, then the first step would be to try to communicate. If that doesn't work, our only options are to either hope you find a cure in Upper Cathedral Ward or Byrgenwerth or..." She purses her lips. "...put her out of her misery."
"She never would have gotten to that point if the Church had a cure," Eileen chimes in. "I'd say it's better to just kill the thing. Amelia's already dead."
"Djura'd disagree."
"We can't exactly release her humanely into the wild. The logistics are impossible."
You prepare to rebut her with an ingenious concept involving log rollers and horse tranquilizers, but figure that's best saved for later.
"She'll be safe enough behind the ward for the moment. We'll get ta her when all this simmers down. In the meantime," you say, turning on your heel, "let's see what the Idiot Brigade's done with Rosemary."
As it turns out, what they've done with Rosemary is stick her into some jury-rigged stocks and set up a competition to see who can hit her in the face with vegetable detritus from the farthest distance. As you watch, one of the Hunters adds another three meters to the current record with a well-aimed hunk of carrot to roaring approval.
They've also drawn an incredibly unflattering portrait of her, which they've placed on a placard next to the "I Am A Massive Knobhead" sign hanging from her neck.
Points for creativity, you suppose.
One of the Churchmen, a squat lady whose ballista-esque throw suggests that it's not fat beneath her robes, raises a hand in greeting.
"Like what we've done with her?" she asks with a grin. "Drew the picture m'self."
"The warts are a nice touch," you reply.
"She's got the nose for it, hasn't she? Anyway, some of us wanted to string her up and be done with it, but Eileen told us a bit about your big mission and we figure making her watch you succeed is the best possible punishment." She shrugs. "And we wanted to have a little fun, too. Lots of pent-up aggression here."
"I gathered."
"Well, don't want to keep you, and I need to get back in line before-"
Another splat and roar indicate that someone just broke thirty meters.
"Fuck!"
"Make sure yer toes're pointed right at her before you throw."
"Right, got it. Good luck!"
As you re-enter the chapel, you note that most of the inhabitants besides the new guy and Agatha (for obvious reasons) are deeply engaged in the event. You think you see money change hands and Arianna's fist-pump at the next successful throw confirms your suspicions.
You suppose it's as good an atmosphere as any to punch out an eldritch nightmare in.
[] Talk to
-[] Who?
[] Go to Upper Cathedral Ward
[] Write in...