Godfrey

"Take what you need." He told the group. "Knives, meat, cloth, the lot. We'll need it."

The cats proved quite friendly, cozying up to Priscilla and nuzzling her affectionately. They naturally avoided the Mutt, though.

While the others prepared and tended to Priscilla, Godfrey mumbled a curse and went to answer the door, almost stumbling down the stairs as he did.

"Louis, my boy!" Godfrey greeted, raising a hand. "Sorry about the mess. Some damn thieves must have broken in while I was out and about. What's all this fuss about Cursebloods, sirs?"

The old man's voice was calm and firm, but he was still wearing his apron with knives visible in the pockets. He shuffled behind the counter, moving himself in just such a way to keep Louis from peeking into the backroom and seeing anyone else, though his movements were casual enough that you couldn't quite read deceptiveness into them.

Edited by kagescorpionakki on Jan 11th 2023 at 2:22:25 PM

Katherine

Katherine thought that Mutt's mewling was both pathetic and cute in a way. Like a puppy so adorable you can't help but kick it as hard as you can.

Katherine waited for a second, trying to see if anyone reacted to that remark, and sighed in relief. It seems she's managed to figure out how to keep her thoughts to herself. Leaking her every personal thought to everyone around her would be a nightmare she didn't need on top of her current one.

Still, she should probably address the Mutt in the room. Katherine did want to kill it, if only to relieve herself of the frustration the loss of her voice caused. It wouldn't be all that productive, though.

Katherine didn't really care if the Mutt lived or died, and she doubted that any of the others cared either, but there might be a use for it that she just didn't see.

"Hmm, I doubt you'd have anything you can offer us, Mutt," Katherine said through her telepathy. She made sure that only Mutt and the other Bloodlords could hear her. "But I don't care for taking your life either. Perhaps one of the others here would have a compelling reason to spare this one?"

Katherine felt it when the two men arrived in the shop, with two new people's senses suddenly added to her own.

"It seems whatever led to us becoming Bloodlords is a bit more public than we assumed," Katherine said, wincing as the men spoke about their search for Bloodlords. She used her control to clamp down on the Mutt's mouth just in case it got any ideas. "The two men visiting us had already searched my old family home and the Sisters for Bloodlords, and are planning to search the University for a 'rat-scholar' later. That they're here now is... troubling."

"We should keep quiet and avoid their notice for now. Just whisper under your breath, I can listen in through your senses and carry the messages for everyone else to hear."

Edited by drearyArchon on Jan 14th 2023 at 3:01:46 AM

So, there were more mercenaries at their throats. Was everywhere in the city to be like this, an endless parade of brief pitstops and sieges? Could they truly keep this up? They had to rest eventually. All living things needed sleep; the existence of a brain at all necessitated the existence of, at the bare minimum, human exhaustion. They had to get to the dorms as soon as possible then.

And then Robert's heart sank again as he heard that they were coming after him.

"Wh—" Robert almost shouted in outrage before he covered his mouth and flung himself to the floor with a thud he was... pretty sure just sounded like something falling over, right? He scuttled behind the counter and held a hand up to try to get Katherine's attention. "That's me!" He whispered. "These philistines don't know my proper title and don't understand the importance of my work. But somehow they know—" He shook his head. Babbling again, even in a whisper. "Theories later! Action now. We need answers all around. Do not kill this one." Robert furiously pointed his finger in the Mutt's face. "What's your name, sir? Can you help us subdue the men outside? Cleanly? You have my word as a man of Kejl University, I mean you no harm." He was so tempted to see if these people knew that only Medical Doctors took an oath to do no harm, but no, this was not the time.

Priscilla the Grey

"If I'm needed, I can gather my strength and kill our visitor," Priscilla offered in a low voice, though she sounded a mite uncertain of herself. Either she felt too weak from her injury to actually back up her claim, or she was doubting the morality of what she had stated so bluntly. "Otherwise... we should seek an escape route, just in case. I think that we should make a habit of giving ourselves a back door to slip out of, wherever we go."

As her leg was tended to, she carefully pushed it down against the ground, testing to see if she could safely put weight on it. Pursing her lips, she nodded shortly, and grunted as she stood herself up on wobbily legs.

"...good. I'm able. We should hide, at least... don't you think?"

Edited by Enirboreh on Jan 30th 2023 at 2:05:14 PM

Lukas Riese

"Hiding may not be good enough," Lukas muttered, trusting the musician to carry his speech, "They're ordered to capture at least one of 'the suspects', and one of them is right in front of them. Unless someone wants to volunteer themselves, we'll probably need to fight."

Lukas pulled out his crossbow slowly. The priest was correct; an exit would've been quite helpful now. Even if the fight was unavoidable it could've given him some more room- something an arbalest like Lukas knew the value of well. He snaked one of his excess blood bolts into position with more dexterity than even his experienced hands could produce.

"Are you able to reach the butcher with your telepathy, Karherine?" Lukas asked, not entirely sure who was included in the conversation. "If so, tell him to signal us for backup if a fight breaks out."

With that said, Lukas waited for the conflict. He knew it was likely to happen, but he didn't want to be the first one to strike. Perhaps naively, he hoped they might leave and search at the university. But of course, they wouldn't find anyone there and would be back here to apprehend Godfrey.

Lukas could only wonder how they could possibly know the Bloodlords' places of residence- or what they had logged for himself. But he was also hopeful. Clearly their transformation left some kind of trace, and with that there was a possibility for this group to get answers.

Katherine

At Lukas' question, Katherine tried contacting Godfrey through her telepathy for a few moments. She could almost feel a connection there, but it was too faint for her to get a message through. She shook her head at Lukas.

"No dice. I think it's something to do with line-of-sight. I can only really talk to people that I can see. I still have all of their senses on tap, though, so I can tell you if a fight starts downstairs."

The Cat's Claw Butchery

"Monsieur Baudin, you're here!" Louis snapped back before the counter, like he had just been caught with his hand in the pantry. Which was just as well, as he had been merely another step away from poking his head up the stairs and perhaps taking a look too far. "Good to see you well. There are some men, who would want to—"

"Move it, boy!", snarled the grizzled mercenary behind him and rudely pushed Louis back. The man eyed Godfrey, his cold gaze piercing the old butcher. The mercenary took a moment to take stock of Godfrey, noticing his big hands, strong arms and the blade at his hips, still with dried blood on it. The latter itself should have been a traitorous sign of the violence from earlier, but here in the butcher's shop seemed thankfully not too out of place.

"We are under orders to take you with us.", he said finally. "Our employer ordered you apprehended under suspicion of harboring Cursebloods. And no, I do not give a shit about innocence or whatnot."

He nodded back to the front door, where Godfrey could see several men in the garb of the Red Sparrow stand and wait. They were all heavily armed, with their red overcoats over the chainmail, the iron helmets with feathered neck-covers hiding most of the feautures but their eyes, and axes and bladed whips in their hands. One of them even had a man-catcher.

"So, do us all a favour and come with us quietly. Or make my night even better and resist, so I can take out some frustration on you, while I beat your face in." The mercenary spat on the floor.

The Mutt's ears twitched and his nose shivered, even as his eyes flickered from one Bloodlord to the next. A bead of sweat trailed down his face, before vanishing into his furry neck. He stared at Robert with both paltable fear and desperate hope. An expression familiar to anyone in dark times, being offered a way out and with no time nor luxury to ask what the price will be.

"M-My name is Raoul, monsieur.", he whispered between gritted teeth. His eyes darted back towards the stairs and his ears twitched again. Noticing Katherine's hold briefly weakening to allow him to turn his head, he took a deep breath and then another. Soon, it became clear that he was smelling the air.

His panicked expression did not abate, as he looked back at Robert. "I-I can smell at least...least twelve folk outside. Well-armed. Lots of metal.", he hastily said. "A-And I smell...something sweet. Sugar and...and what rich folk put into p-pudding? The yellow stuff?"

He shook his head, trying his best to give them what they clearly wanted from him and it was not panicked rambling. "Somebody rich outside. High folk. Pr-Probably..." His eyes went wide and his voice turned into a dreadfilled whimper. "...a-a Singer...." He mewled in spite of himself, unable to hide the primal fear this word caused in him.

Edited by TheNohen on Feb 8th 2023 at 5:46:32 PM

Katherine

Katherine conveyed Raoul's words to everyone before adding, "It's the Red Sparrows. Seems like someone very, very rich is after us," she mentally reviewed the list of her mother's enemies who'd do something like this but realized that that was pretty much every merchant in the city. "A fight seems to be breaking out downstairs. The Red Sparrow's Captain isn't playing nice with Godfrey. I suggest everyone here prepare themselves."

Katherine paused for a moment before turning to address Raoul. "Congratulations, Mutt, you are no longer our biggest concern," she let go of the Blood Hold she had on him, the Mutt wouldn't try anything while there's an army of hunters outside and she'll need her Blood Hold for later. "I'd tell you to scurry on home, but that'll probably attract the hunters outside. I suggest you stay here and stay quiet until the fighting starts. You might be able to sneak away while everyone else is occupied, and we'll never have to see each other again."

Godfrey

"You're awful confident that you'd win." Godfrey's tone turned tense, his hand going to the hilt of one of his blades. "If I was harboring cursebloods, you think a few men with axes would be enough to apprehend them? I'm only an old man, but in an enclosed space like this I'd give myself decent odds at whittling them down one by one. Now what do you suppose a medley of monsters could do, hm?"

He turned to address the soldiers outside, raising his voice so they'd hear. "Tell me, gentlemen. Are you willing to die for your cause? Because if any of you ruffians set foot in my shop, I can guarantee that not all of you will leave alive."

The challenge in his tone was obvious, and despite being an unarmored old man, when Godfrey looked back at the lead mercenary, there was a fire in the butcher's eyes. Godfrey's muscles were tensed, prepared to strike at a moment's notice, should the mercenaries engage.

Priscilla the Grey

"Unfortunately, tensions are high. I may not perform at my best, but..." Priscilla remarked after listening to the conversation at the door, deciding to take up a position suited for an ambush. "If we do this right, we can surprise a few of them. Although... I hope that these attackers give us a rest sometime, so intimidation would help..."

She paused, before deciding to utilise that sensation from earlier. The one that made her face numb, and her skin promptly ribboned away to reveal her musculature beneath. That near-skeletal visage would be more than enough, plus it seemed to have helped her in battle before.

"Co-ordination? Or shall we simply rush them? There's advantages to be had with both approaches."

Robert went on a glorious Face Journey before Raoul and Katherine. His heart soared and he beamed at Raoul not immediately jumping to murder, but as the man described the deteriorating condition outside, Katherine relaying the escalation, and the realization that this was yet another fight, his face sank lower and lower into despair. "I was right, we... we really won't ever find a reprieve here. We'll have to keep pushing ourselves further, harder..." Robert grimaced at the hole in his hand, winced at the multiple bruises he'd already acquired. "That's a small army outside. I'm going to find us one of our own."

Robert had lost contact with the rats he'd controlled when they left visual range, which was just great for creatures known for hiding. He'd have to refine that talent later, like weight lifting or studying. For now though, he could work with this. Praying the darkness could keep him covered, and that he didn't have a rat's eyeshine, Robert peeked a single eye out from behind Godfrey's counter. He reached out, searching for... anything... ah. Right. Butcher. Butcher with cats. What else did he have but a vicious rat swam? Diagnosis? Dammit, it would have to do! His eye frantically searched the men for a few seconds before he dropped below the counter again, loading his brain up with a torrent of information about their various weaknesses, injuries, and problems. His eyes flickered like he was in REM sleep or something.

"One of them is still in recovery from a... gut malady. Red moustache." He whispered. He sensed a few of them had bad knees. As he disgorged the information it felt like some strange prophetic vision or dissociative episode. "The one with the long sideburns, the shortest of them, and the one with the thin beard. They have old injuries, bad knees. The one with the eyepatch has poorly healed ribs. The Singer is weakened. A strained throat. Recovering from the flu. No telling how well or how long she could sing. We could run. The song wouldn't slow us for long. Their armor is heavy and if only a third of them have injuries... I suspect the other two thirds are green. We just need a destination for our flight. Perhaps we could mitigate their numerical advantage by splitting up then reconvening at a new location." He blinked, shook his head, confused. The information fled his brain as quickly as it came. It appeared he still needed to learn this ability too, it had... completely overwhelmed him.

Lukas Riese

It was fairly obvious now that Godfrey was harboring bloodlords. Lukas knew that hiding was pointless. He set up position a little farther away from the Red Sparrows than his companions. From his limited experience with them, they were far better in close quarters than him. With luck, a bit of a wall would form in the battle. Even still, he was far closer and more exposed than he would've liked. He made a note to prepare more in this city.

The trouble with all of Lukas's plans was the Singer. No matter how they were positioned, they would be affected; they could not avoid sound. She was very likely to hide once she realized one of the cursebloods had a crossbow, and from that point onwards she was unsilencable. Robert's analysis offered some solace. A singer who couldn't sing was more workable. Lukas wasn't sure where he was getting this information from, but Lukas's curse also gave him information from the void, and Robert had no reason to lie.

"We'd need to thin the crowd before we start running," Lukas whispered. The idea appealed to him, as he was starved for distance, but he knew doing it now was suicidal. "We'll meet up halfway on the path between here and the church. By the fifth lightpost. If running is feasible."

With that, Lukas readied his crossbow.

The Cat's Claw Butchery

As they all whispered in Godfrey's small bedroom, trying to agree on a course of action, Katherine's ears began picking up an ever so light scratching. It drew her attention to the small cabinet in the corner. It was made out of cheap wood, but nonetheless a sturdy construction, with the edges worn smooth by years and years of use. But that wasn't what caught her eye. Instead, she could see one of the shelves, which was shaking ever so imperceptibly. As she watched it, it was slowly pushed open.

Peeking out of it were two fuzzy ears. They were followed by a small head and one yellow, slitted eye, the other scarred shut. A little kitten, probably not older than a few months, and with fur as black as ink, peeked out of the cabinet with visible curiosity. Its little paws rested on the edge of the shelf and it shook its head, trying to get some dust off.

Around its neck was a little leather collar, to which attached was a tiny piece of parchment. When Katherine took it and unfurled it, she could see that someone had scribbled a message on it. The writing was rough, inelegant and the letters broad, as if written by a hand too big to comfortably handle the tiny writing surface.

Go to Jesâule. Find Black House in Crooked Street. Housekeeper will be waiting. Shelter there.

Also, don't forget Chop this time.

Before Katherine could relay this to the others, however, things broke loose downstairs. They heard the snap of a crossbow and the dying gasp of Godfrey.

A minute before...

The mercenary captain glared at Godfrey. The tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife, marrying the cold air and resulting in Louis shivering for multiple reasons. The captains hand traveled to his hips, coming to rest on the shortsword there. For a moment, it looked like he was about to draw it.

But then, he rolled his eyes and sighed. The moment passed and the tension escaped, like a spurned lover. "Tempting to beat your face in, really.", he grumbled. His shoulder sagged and his posture relaxed, with his cold eyes still on Godfrey. "But you're right. I would be fool starting a fight here with you in here."

With that he whistled to his men and stepped away from the counter. Just before he reached the door, he stopped...and stepped aside.

Standing in the door, hidden by the captains frame until now, was one of his men. He raised the crossbow and pulled the trigger. The bolt whipped through the room, hitting the butcher right in the heart. The air escaped his lungs and Godfrey collapsed onto the floor.

"Monsieur!", yelled Louis in shock.

"There, problem solved.", snarked the captain and stepped outside. "Get in there and turn the place over! Find me those Cursebloods!"

Before the words were even over his lips, the Red Sparrows stormed inside. Four men, wielding axes and maces, while a fifth one with a mancatcher waited just outside the door. They stepped over Godfrey and approached the stairs.

None of them noticed the old butchers eyes fluttering open.

Edited by TheNohen on Mar 9th 2023 at 6:06:03 PM

Godfrey

He saw the bolt coming before it struck. Godfrey had shifted his body, beginning to move away, but not quick enough. He fell, heart pierced, gasping for breath that wouldn't come.

This lasted mere seconds, until the men strode confidently past what should have been his corpse. Godfrey's hands twitched, and then suddenly he launched himself to his feet, drawing his knives in one jagged motion and swinging for the nearest man, with all the force of his inhuman strength.

Blood trickled from the bolt-wound, and with it his body ever so slightly weakened. But it would take far more than that to put down the Cat's Claw Butcher.

Priscilla the Grey

She heard the commotion from beneath: the sound of a bolt letting loose and striking flesh, and the slump of a body falling limp. Priscilla grit her teeth, her breath hitching. She wasn't sure if Godfrey was dead or not, but either way she could practically feel the impact. Gripping her mace, she pursed her lips and then tilted her head as she heard feet upon the stairs.

She felt her body move. She had a leather hood to protect her head from the rain and cold while patrolling, so she pulled that up. Combining that with her facial skin-ribboning, she looked like a bloody visage of Death and decay itself. So the seven-foot tall maiden in her armour and black shroud slipped out the door and positioned herself at the top of the stairs, making sure that the invaders got a brief but prominent look at her skinless face before letting out a shriek and leaping forth with her mace raised.

It barely fit without scraping the ceiling, but the effect and dramatics were worth the tight space. The man leading the group would find himself with a hollering, faceless warrior woman mid-leap in front of him, and with a freshly-revived Godfrey attacking from behind the group. They were, in short, cornered.

Priscilla didn't normally make noises while attacking, but a part of her found it a little entertaining. She always knew that she was unsettling, but in this context she'd surely be horrifying. She made a mental note to recall her ability to shriek like a demon on command for later use.

Edited by Enirboreh on Mar 9th 2023 at 11:01:59 AM

Katherine

Katherine moved right behind Pricilla as the Conservator Maiden did her thing. All this mess would get the attention of those outside, so Katherine needed to disable the Red Sparrow's Singer as quickly as possible.

As she descended the stairs, Katherine could feel the mercenaries coming into range of her Blood Hold. She could feel their muscles and blood as keenly as her own. Katherine sought the familiar feeling of a trained Singer from among the mercenaries, and quickly found them.

Just as the doctor said, the Singer was recovering from the flu. It wasn't anything that couldn't be powered through, but no professional would consider her in top shape to fight Bloodlords.

With a tug of her Blood Hold, Katherine made the Singer swallow their own spit the wrong way, sending them into a coughing fit.

"That should take care of the Singer for a little while," Katherine thought out loud as she drew her knife and entered the fray. If the Singer made any sign of recovering, Katherine would force them into another fit, but for now she has more pressing matters to attend to.

Edited by drearyArchon on Mar 21st 2023 at 8:32:06 PM

Okay, they could figure this out! It would be fine! Seriously! Robert took a deep breath as he sized up a situation he thought was going to be finally resolved... before yet another authority in Rousson proved their utter disregard for the city's people. As Godfrey hit the deck he reached out with his powers, almost as some kind of coping mechanism... and found he was... fine? Their biology was truly something else, wasn't it. It seemed the thugs didn't fully understand it just yet though!

As the soldiers marched in, and all hell broke loose, Robert realized that hiding behind the counter had afforded him a certain level of stealth still! He had to exploit it, once again! And give into that feeling of... hatred, betrayal! As the soldiers tromped into the store, Robert pounced. He threw himself over the counter, scrabbling across the floor with his teeth bared. The soldier with the mancatcher didn't stand a chance: Robert threw the door closed, parried the spear, threw the door back open, then lunged, teeth bared. Once again his square, ratty teeth sank into flesh and tore and tore, his own blood sorcery drawing the blood out even faster. He just needed this one bastard eliminated, he needed to feel that agency, he didn't care that he was right in front of a Singer that could obliterate him. If she would try to work that throat he would make sure she never did again. Man, what was he saying?! How far he had fallen tonight!

Lukas Riese

Utilizing his acute awareness brought upon by a decade of bodyguard work, Lukas noticed the cat. He was about to ask Katherine what she found on it before his awareness also notified him of the crossbow being fired downstairs.

Recognizing that the fight had started, Lukas rushed to the stairs, a bit slower than his companions. He planned to stay up and fire down the stairwell, but after the priest had just leapt onto the front soldier, he deduced his presence was not needed here. Instead Lukas snuck down the stairs in the wake of the commotion to ground level.

He looked around very briefly before dukcing under the counter. Lukas noticed one soldier in particular- the fellow arbalest in the doorframe. Judging from their position, they were the one who shot Godfrey. Lukas did not much like that.

Recalling the crossbownman's location, and making sure not to reappear where he had ducked, Lukas rose up above the counter and fired a bolt at the arbalest's head.

The Cat's Claw Butchery

"Merde!"

The shout of the mercenary captain was the only thing that could be heard over the chaos that had broken out. One of the men send up the stairs screamed, before his shout was drowned out by his own blood, when Godfrey suddenly jumped back up and rammed his knife into the poor bastards neck.

His companions were not any more fortunate, as they were greeted by the sight of a screaming Priscilla shooting down the stairs, her mace held high. The sight of her exposed flesh and the wildly flailing flaps of skin caused the man in the front to recoil in a mixture of horror and disgust, before his expression crumpled under the blow of the Conservator Maiden. His face caved in, he fell backwards. Blood and bone-shards flying in a high arc. Unable to halt her fall, Priscilla followed suit and a heap of screaming bodies tumbled down the stairs and onto the floor.

Lukas' shot nearly hit the arbalester between the eyes, but the mercenary ducked just in time, causing the blood bolt to blounce off his helmet. The impact still made him stumble backwards, out onto the street, cursing.

Then Robert suddenly charged forward, madly trying to disarm the Sparrow with the mancatcher, before tackling him to the outside and sinking his teeth into the man's neck. The cold air hit him in the face, while hot blood streamed into his mouth. A delectable sensation, which was only undercut by him suddenly surrounded by the rest of the mercenaries.

Before he could do anything else, he got punched in the face, rocking him backwards. He could hear a crack and his nose burning. His own blood poured over his lips, mixing with what he had swallowed. The man he had bitten, staggered back up to his feet, one hand on his bleeding neck, the other drawing a handaxe. His feathered neckbrace had saved his life. "Bloody...they are all Cursebloods!", he yelled.

"Of course, they are...just our luck...", said a middle-aged woman, in the back. Her black hair had strands of grey in them and she wore a faded, satin dress, with a furcloak over it, which started to fray at the edges. She cleared her throat, while twirling a bident in her gloved hands. "Keep them inside. I will incapa—!"

Her words were cut off, as she suddenly broke out into a heavy, gagging cough. Whatever she wanted to say, she now could do little but gag, as her own throat suddenly to contract and her spit shot back up.

Meanwhile, back in the butcher's shop, the mercenary captain shook off his shock and growled angrily. Pushing a stammering Louis out of the way, he drew his blade and stormed foward, trying to reach Godfrey. A swing of his sword cut the butcher at the shoulder, forcing him away from the man he had just knifed.

"Outside with you! Hand on the wound!", yelled the captain and tossed the heavily wounded man towards the door. "Get back up! Fight back!", he yelled at the rest.

Before he could follow up on Godfrey, his eyes found Katherine, who was now getting down the stairs and past the bundle of bodies that Priscilla's assault had caused. His eyes narrowed, when he saw her face, before taking note of her knife.

Slowly backing off, the captain tried to use his sword to keep her at distance. It was clear he wanted to get back outside, not be drawn into a chaotic duel within the crammed confines of this increasingly bloody butchery.

He grabbed Louis and tossed the young man forward. "Earn your pay!"

Louis stammered, having drawn his studden club. Fear, confusion and shock edged upon his features. Staring at Katherine, his eyes went wide upon seeing her unnatural state. Swallowing hard, he clumsily flailed at her, trying to hit her more out of luck and fenzy, rather thank skill.

Priscilla the Grey

Far from a graceful landing, but Priscilla was satisfied with the results of her assault, and grimly disentangled herself from the pile of bodies she'd left. She made a point to finish off any of the still-moving ones with a sharp strike to the head using her mace, before getting up and dusting herself off; assessing the situation as it currently stood.

Fear abounded. Maybe it was because she was now a Curseblood, but it was as if she could smell it. Or it was just the blood.

The once-organised group was dishevelled, and Priscilla turned her attention to the captain. She at first kept her distance, as she was wary to approach, but after he pushed Louis forward to attack Katherine, she rushed at full speed towards him. Priscilla was a fast woman due to her long stride, and she swung her mace at the captain's sword-arm as an opener and then turned her plate-covered shoulder towards his centre of mass in an effort to charge right into him with all her might. If she could knock him down with sheer force, she could take him out quickly. Though taking on a captain of the guard was a dangerous move in any situation.

However, she reminded herself that a conservator maiden was to put herself at risk for others in this kind of situation. This was just an extreme example of that, and she had the benefit of wearing armour. Her stature and blood-stained clothing made her a priority target, and it also gave her the intimidation factor. She was the perfect eye-catcher for her allies to take advantage of.

Priscilla could hardly believe that only a day or so ago she had been praying on her knees and singing praises to The Light. Now, she was spilling blood without hesitation in the name of self-preservation.

"May we all be forgiven," she murmured.

Edited by Enirboreh on Apr 1st 2023 at 1:18:08 PM

Katherine

Katherine reached into Louise' body with her Blood Art, causing the rookie to trip and fall onto his own weapon instead of even slowing her down.

"Stay down kid," Katherine said to the rookie through her Art, "And you might just live to see the end of this."

Katherine spared a glance at the Captain, now thoroughly distracted by Priscilla, before making her way out of the bakery. The former merchant-noble looked around, sparing no thought to the wounded men before finally spotting her prey.

"Ah, a fellow Singer," Katherine's words were only for the Singer to hear. Katherine knew the woman couldn't respond, and she'll use her Blood Art to keep it that way. "On any other day I would have loved to hear your song, and then have you hear mine. Alas, fate is cruel. To all of us."

With that, Katherine rushed forwards to the Singer, seeking to cut the woman's throat open.

Godfrey

Blood and hate kept him moving, even as the sword bit into his shoulder. He did offer a silent prayer for Louis - it was clear the poor boy had no business being here - but Godfrey did not allow himself to be slowed.

Priscilla had drawn the most ire, and Katherine made for the singer.

Godfrey came up behind the captain, putting him in the unenviable position of being sandwiched between the fierce old butcher and the conservator maiden.

Hopefully, the captain's imminent death would rout the rest of the soldiers.

Robert saw stars as he rocked backwards, snapped back to reality, grunting in pain, suddenly reduced back to a mere biologist. His teeth chattered in irritation and he clutched at his face, eyes burning in hatred at the soldiers now surrounding him. His eyes swiveled around to the other Cursebloods... were they... coming to his rescue?? The young girl, the telepath, they'd fall upon her if he didn't do something! His face, stricken with fear and rage, wouldn't draw attention! He had to get it together. Robert's face froze as he took a deep breath, summoning up a deeply dissociated menace, a front, in other words, Not Him At All.

"Best to help your friend, good sirs." Robert said, in his most imperious, grave, level voice, the kind he used on students back when he was still a TA. That's what this was, he had to tell himself that. It was the only way a bluff like this would work! At the same time he fixed the guard he'd bitten with an intense stare. His wound, much as he'd try to stop it up, keep it shut, started erupting with blood once more as Robert focused on it. "Much as I'd love to help, a neckwound from a Curseblood just does that sometimes. A shame. Get him a few blocks away and it should stop. The blood, it's drawn to us is all. I can't help but make the poor man bleed out on his feet!"

Lukas Riese

The all too familiar sound of a bolt on metal was automatically heard by Lukas, even among the chaos surrounding him. Hitting the other arbalest's helmet reminded him of all the other times he had missed the flesh. But there was hidden value in Lukas's flawed shot. With the crossbowman disoriented and in the street, there was no ranged threat among the invaders.

Lukas vaulted over the counter without need to fear, taking note of everything around him. He figured the priest and butcher could handle themselves reasonably well against the captain inside, so Lukas made his way outside, where his range could be better used. Along the way, he elegantly slid another blood bolt into his crossbow, preferring to use the plentiful spilled blood than the ones he had crafted beforehand.

He exited the shop. Fortunatrly, most of the soldiers were surrounding Robert, so Lukas had no problem creating distance for himself. Unfortunately, Robert was being surrounded by most of the soldiers... and doing it remarkably, and uncharacteristicly, composed. In fact, he almost seemed to be acting. Whatever had come upon Robert, Lukas saw that he had drawn significant attention and needed significant help. He raised up his crossbow and aimed at one of the soldiers surrounding Robert and not facing him, hoping to catch him whilst he was distracted.

The Cat's Claw Butchery

Louis fell down with a yelp, as his legs suddenly refused to listen to him. Falling onto the floorboards, nearly cutting himself on his own blade, the young man desperately held his head down as the carnage escalated all around him.

The captain saw Priscilla coming and was smart enough to to try and block her blow. Her mace whiffed through empty air, as he stepped back. The tall woman followed up, using her size to her advantage and started to corral the mercenary towards the wall.

"Damn the Dark...", muttered the grizzled captain, clearly realizing what she was doing, yet never taking his eyes off her. Another blow came his way and suddenly he ducked low. Shooting forward, he slammed shoulders first against Priscilla's waist and then lifted her upwards for a brief moment, before tackling her down to the ground. With her bad leg, there was no way for Priscilla to stop him.

His blade went down. Cold steel cut through cloth, slipping in between the plates and underneath her right arm. She could feel hot blood spilling out from her armpit. He had hit an artery! "Bleed, you damn bi—"

Suddenly Godfrey appeared behind him, ramming his knife into the captains back. The man's roar echoed through the shop, but he didn't collapse. The blade didn't go in deep enough, halted by the glimmer of chainmail underneath the cloth. The mercenary jumped up, staggering backwards with gritted teeth, until he and Godfrey collided with the wall behind him. He rocked his head back, slamming it into the butchers face, until he loosened his grip.

Whirling around, the captain stared at Godfrey, then at Priscilla. His blade traveling between them, trying to keep them at bay, while his breath ran ragged and the knife still stuck out from his back. His eyes seethed with pain and rage, and yet he still kept calm, drawing a dagger from his belt and readying himself for the next round.

The elderly woman gagged and spat, her hand on her throat. But no matter what she did, Katherine did not relinquish her hold on her. The Singer staggered back, trying to keep distance between her and the approaching Bloodlady.

Eventually she stopped trying to clear her throat and jabbed at her with her bident, but the thrusts were slow, filled with panic. She clearly was of an older style, meant more to keep enemies at a distance, so she could sing, rather than to fight properly on her own.

Katherine first blow got past her guard and cut into her shoulder. She was about to deliver a second, and deadly, blow when suddenly something hit her against the temple, with a loud crack. Katherine staggered back and a moment later, blood poured down her face.

One of the Sparrows pulled his thorned whip back, ready for another blow. "Tsk...timing was off.", he lamented. His whip unfurled again, the iron nails in the leather glimmering in the moonlight. This was a weapon mainly meant to draw blood, to either break bones with the heavy tip or lacerate the skin if it missed. A weapon perfect for hunting Bloodlords...like Katherine.

Two more mercenaries also stepped up, one with a spear slipping next to the Singer to protect her, while the second one wielded a shield and an axe. The latter nodded at the one bitted by Robert. "Get out of here, Richard. No use here bleeding to death. Go and get help!"

The man, who was starting to get pale, nodded and staggered away from the fight. He made it a few feet, before a bolt hit him in the back and felled him. Lukas had stepped out of the shop and was already loading his crossbow again.

"By the Cross, have you no mercy!?", yelled one of the Sparrows. Another one cursed out loud.

"Hold your position. No more messing about!", yelled the shield-wielder. The other listened. One of them grabbed the mancatcher again and held it out towards Robert, trying to force his neck into the spiked half-moon. The other approached Lukas and Katherine, taking care to not engage either of them one on one.

Edited by TheNohen on May 6th 2023 at 8:11:33 PM