Degenesis Storytime: The House of That Violence Built S1

Rodrigo looks around as he asks, "Is there such a thing as a clinic here? Or, a 'medicine man'?"

"Nothing like one of your Spitals,” The Corporal following them adds, “There's some temporary accommodations but, I wouldn't want to be laid up in them. Mostly people tend to their own sick.”

"Then I suppose instituting something of the sort should be a priority once we've the time. Even if just to keep track of what diseases are making the rounds."

Tomas adds quickly, "If you attempted to build such a place as to attend to the needs of the folk here, I warn you, Gutierrez. There are too many people and too few supplies."

"Speaking of that,' Payne asks, “'Is there any sort of housing available?"

Tomas shrugs, "You build it, you own it."

Payne nods, "As is always the case."

Junction is comprised of tents and shacks alike, built by hand from scrap found here, or brought from Balkhan. Junction itself is a dense maze of these makeshift homes, on two levels. In the underpass and on the overpass, and everywhere around it. Rickety stairs of scrap lead up to the top of the bridge for easier access. Camp fires out of metal barrels are common, with people warming themselves by them. Occasionally someone is cooking over such a fire, but only those that have the drive and knowledge to hunt small animals in the East Borcan forests.

Tomas looks about their surroundings, "Now then. There are a few figures spoke of before that I could make introductions to. I also have a plan for handling the Apocalyptics, or rather, getting information. Though I would take that task alone."

Payne raises a brow. He then takes off the hat.

Tomas nods, "I was thinking of the same thing really. All that you are, is in your dress. Same as mine. If I take off the mask, then who knows who I am?"

Judge Payne blinks. "Some things you can't change. Your past. Your nature. Some things stick, like leeches suckling for your blood - and no amount of ash can rub them off."

Am watching. Listening. Smashing F4.

Thank you for degenesis story time. Is rare treat.

Tomas states, his face concealed by that mask same as Blip, before stating finally, "Now, anyone you want to speak with, or perhaps we should take a look at this underground?"

Rodrigo sighs, "Lead the way, I suppose."

Deciding that seeing Kuzman before they start any incidents with other Cults, the Shaman leads the group on to the old man. Before they arrive there, he says to the group, "Treat Kuzman with respect. Enter in with a bow, and always say Voivode Kuzman. That will get him talking."
The walk to the underpass is a short one. Beneath it, only faint wisps of snow draft through. It is sheltered from the worst of the weather. Navigating the maze of tents and shacks it a task, but eventually the assembled team of Delegates reach Voivode Kuzman's little camp in the center. The canvas tent there is very large, and refugees are huddled around a camp fire out front. A cold wind blows through the large underpass. The sunlight from either end, and the various fires within, keep the place lit, but shadows play everywhere, even in the day time.

Some of the people part before this official looking group, allowing them entrance into Voivode Kuzman's tent. It's large, square, and tall compared to the rest of the makeshift homes around it. Even as a refugee, he maintains accommodations better than everyone else.
Inside is an old man, sitting on the floor with a few other men and women, centered around a small table where they drink from tin cups. The old man looks up to regard the newcomers.

"And who might you be, who enters my place of home?" Kuzman asks.

Tomas opens first, giving a bow. "Shaman Tomas of the Orosians, Voivode Kuzman. I have brought others, new arrivals, who have come to speak with someone as influential as you are in this settlement of Junction."

Rodrigo sketches a quick bow. "Rodrigo Gutierrez from the Spital, Voivode Kuzman. I'm here to ascertain this settlement's health."

Payne bows alongside the others. "Judge Payne. I'm here in name of the law."

The Voivode smirks and looks at Judge Payne. "Who's law?"

Judge Payne pauses, thinking to himself, ‘Right then, I hated everything that had led up to this point.’

"I'm sure you know it well,” Payne says at last, “Voivode Kuzman."

The Voivode laughs softly and motions to the group to sit. He looks at Corporal Burkhalter next. "And you? I'm surprised a Hellvetic has ventured so deep among us Balkhani."

"I'm Corporal Burkhalter, assigned to aid these delegates, Voivode Kuzman." He salutes.
"Straight and to the point. Now, I know of the Orosians. To see one working alongside the Protectorate, I find odd. And you, Spitalian... How many of your comrades have you brought here to aid the people?"

"At the moment, I'm the only one. Our... er... resources are stretched thin, and they need me to judge what we need here exactly before sending a full mission."

"Then you won't accomplish much. But perhaps the people will be spared the Preservist's wanton blade because of it." The Voivode is an old man, with a patch over one eye. He's older than most Balkhani would get by any sense of logic. He seems bitter, but calm. He regards each man with rapt attention in his eye, even if he does not look at them with true respect.

"Sit, then, all of you, and tell me what you want from my people and I."

“'Are there any particular disputes amongst your folk?" Payne asks.

"Hah! I take it you are not familiar with Balhkan culture. It is more rare for there not to be a dispute of some sort."

"I did say particular."

"Ask any one man or woman here and they will point to a particular dispute that is of utmost importance to them."

"And what do you, as leader of these people, see as a dispute of utmost importance?"

"For me, the Hellvetics have not secured the outskirts sufficiently, and for that my people suffer. Picked off by Gendo in the night, and are unable to even be buried due to the frozen earth."

Judge Payne throws a quick look at the Corporal after the mention of Gendos.

"Voivode Kuzman is right,” The Hellvetican replies, “The outskirts aren't as secure as we'd like. Unfortunately there's only a handful of us here."

"I remember the Chronicler mentioning a bounty on Gendos. Perhaps we could gather a posse?"

"Aye, you could try. But do not expect the people here to be trusting of you."

"Figure we'll need to do something about that,” Payne states with his stern expression hardening.

"Forgive them,” Tomas adds calmly, “Voivode Kuzman. They have not been able to meet with many Balkhani up until now."

The Voivode states calmly, "Respect is something earned in Balkhan culture. Prove to the people that you deserve it."

"How?" Payne asks.

"Respect them and their ways, and they might do the same for you."

Judge Payne nods. Thinking to himself, ‘Maybe in a million years.’

Judge Paynes player already sort of bugs me. The internal edgy monologue.

Ive dealt with it before. Hopefully he proves awesome but I'm not too hopeful.

Tomas is set in deep thought, unmoving and still in his seat. Pondering the words exchanged thus far. He wonders what else the Judge and Spitalian have to discuss with Kuzman, or if he should take this moment to speak up.

Rodrigo decides to press ahead himself, "Ah, while we're here. Have you by any chance noticed any kind of plague or contagion among your people?"

"We lost some of our number to fever on our journey, but so far we have been lucky in Junction. No plague has taken us. Yet."

"Very good. Should you hear of anything of the sort, please send word immediately. This settlement would be incredibly vulnerable to an epidemic."

"Have you brought supplies to handle such a thing?"

"Some disinfectants and general medications, though I'll be able to send for proper antibiotics, should the need arise. But before the medication, the most important thing would be immediately establishing and maintaining proper quarantine."

"If the time comes, we'll see how much good you can do, Spitalian."

"We are thankful for your time,” Tomas adds with another bow, “Voivode Kuzman, and are welcomed to sit by your table. As to your question before, an Orosian aids the Cults when it suits the betterment of the whole. So far, they have promised to help the camp, and I will assist them in this. Either through collaboration with others or on our own, we will deal swiftly with all sorts of matters that assail this place."

The Voivode gives Tomas a smile that implies he finds the Orosian a bit naive. "I wish you the best of luck, then."

Complications with his edginess eventually saw him leave the group.

"Now, allies, will this be all?" Tomas asks each of them, "We have much to do."

Rodrigo shrugs, "I don't have anything else for the time being."

“Yeah,” Payne states.

Tomas rises from the chair, giving one more respectful bow to Voivode Kuzman. "I am thankful for your time. I will endeavor to make the most of what we discussed a priority in the eyes of others."

"Good luck in your efforts. I will keep my eye on your progress. For good or not."

Judge Payne stands up, bows hurriedly, and leaves.

Rodrigo simply bows and exits.

As they begin moving through the camp, Tomas asks, "Now, gendos or birds. Which shall we attend to first?"

Payne’s eyes look ahead, "I'd rather learn more about the place before taking action, so, the Birds. 'I'd rather ditch the hat and hammer beforehand, though."

Rodrigo is disinterested in either as he states, "I probably wouldn't be of much use in either case, but I suppose we might as well stick to talking to people rather than dogs for the time being."

Tomas moves towards the Outpost, where he has a place to stay and a place out of sight to change.

"I say we go in separately,” Payne states as they enter, “Less likely to attract attention that way."

There are more Hellvetics around the outpost than any of the group saw around the settlement. They seem cautious from venturing among the refugees, beyond routine patrols. One of the Hellvetic's, a private, approaches the delegates. "I'm to escort you all to Mediator Blip immediately. He said it's urgent."

He escorts everyone into the Outpost and back into that familiar briefing room. Blip is there, pacing back and forth. He stands at attention as the group enters. "There you are! I'll have you know I'm very cross with you. Especially Spitalian Gutierrez. I requested you go out and do work, and instead I hear you've been snooping around the Outpost? And leaving your Spitalian junk all around here."

Tomas has righted himself to a perfectly straight posture now, standing proud and tall.

Blip digs through the documents and finds what he's looking for, a Spitalian chemical agent canister that seems... Off. He hands it to Rodrigo. "You can have it back. I don't take kindly to litter in my briefing room!"

Tomas leans over looking incredulous at the object.

Rodrigo recognizes some things about this fist-sized canister. One, it's non-standard. In fact, it seems tampered with. Wires exposed and the detonation device modified... To do what? Timed or remote detonation, perhaps. What's worse, the canister is labeled experimental, and the code name on it is Tri-88... Rodrigo recognizes this from a project he once protested. A form of nerve gas that was being developed and supposedly was not completed.

He didn't bring it here. And now they're in a room with a tampered chemical canister filled with it. Blip doesn't realize a thing.

Rodrigo blanches, "Ahem, Gentlemen. If you would be so kind as to swiftly but very carefully leave the room." He then pulls on his mask, clasping it type.

The Corporal blinks, not understanding.

"You'll not be leaving until you take your trash with you,” Blip states.

"Yes, yes, give it here. Gently, if you would. Pretend it's as fragile as one of your computers."

Tomas doesn't need to be told twice before he quite gingerly takes a sprint out the door going as fast as he can.

The Judge complies Rodrigo's request with some haste.

Blip hands it to Rodrigo. Then the canister beeps and a faint, mechanical grinding sound emanates from it.

"Ah, Chronicler Blip, it might be a good idea for you to leave as well. This might be rather dangerous."

"Right, but you will explain this immediately!" He says, heading out the door. Then the canister detonates, just as Blip is leaving the doorway. It's not as controlled as a proper cartridge should detonate. Clearly a hacked job. A gas sprays out explosively from vents on both ends of the canister. The gas is faintly colored like mud. Rodrigo's sealed suit and mask protect him from the initial burst, but Blip wasn't quite out in time before the the cartridge burst. Even as he starts to run, he starts to stumble before reaching the end of the hallway.

Hellvetics are already evacuating the building, thanks to Corporal Burkhalter's warnings, but some unfortunates are caught as the gas wafts into some of the hallways. Rodrigo would be best to get out of there, lest he risk exposure of his own., but some unfortunates are caught as the gas wafts into some of the hallways.

Rodrigo drops the canister on the ground, then grabs a trash bucket, popping off the top, before throwing the canister in and closing the lid. He hopes this will slow down the dispersal of whatever's left in there. After that, he moves to Blip to check his condition.

The bucket thankfully stops a fair amount of the remaining gas from escaping rampantly. It seeps out from beneath the bucket, but it's clearly not as bad as it could be. He sees some Hellvetic's running out of the outpost, and one on the floor, unmoving. Blip seems to have trouble breathing and his feet are unsteady as he tries to reach the exit. The Doctor picks him up, attempting to lead him out of the building.

Rodrigo manages that easily. Blip doesn't weigh that much at all, and is easily supported on Rodrigo's shoulder. The outside air is a refreshing change, but the gas is affecting Blip already.

Tomas cleared as much distance as he could, not knowing what it even was. He expects the barking of Spirits as they are ripped from the thing, same as all explosives. He's surprised not to see a bang, but still see something is very much not right. He races upon seeing the two men come out of the outpost. Whatever it is must not be affecting them out here. He attempts to help Rodrigo either carry Blip or set him down. "What is wrong with him?"

"I can't say for certain. Without knowing the precise nature of the gas, I can't do much. He needs to breathe, take in fresh air." Rodrigo Gutierrez carefully attempts to remove Blip's mask

Blip's mask is removed, revealing a rather young face of a Chronicler. The telltale barcode on his forehead. He's got that same wide-eyed look that his mask does as he struggles for air.

"How can we help him breath? Is it constricting his air ways?" Tomas wishes he was a Healer, and didn't forget most of what he was taught by his Elder.

On top of his difficulty breathing, he's sweating excessively, his pupils are contracted, his nose is running and he's drooling excessively as well. His heart beat is abnormally slow.

Judge Payne stays away from Rodrigo, Tomas and Reik, so Blip can breathe more easily. Without the proper chemicals to attempt to neutralize the nerve agent, it's a difficult prospect of treating him. However, if the exposure was limited enough, he could survive... These weapons are new and frightening, from the Spitalian arsenal.

Freja arrives and approaches Leonz and Payne. "Report!"

>Complications with his edginess eventually saw him leave the group

Are you me?

Also was his name rick by chance?

''Someone rigged the building,” Payne states with a steely calm, “Put something in the Chronicler's room.”

'Leonz shoots off a quick salute, "Sir! Some kind of bomb. Gas, I think. Rodrigo is tending to the Chronicler. I don't have a full head count yet."

"Judge Payne, Corporal Burkhalter, question any of the soldiers on guard duty prior to this incident." Freja orders, she’s keeping her cool.

Payne looks around for guards to question, ''Corporal.''

"Right away. With me, Judge. I know who was on duty."

Rodrigo looks around, spotting Freja, "You there! Adrenaline, combat drugs, blood thinners, you have anything of the sort?"

She reaches into her pack and hurries over to Rodrigo and Tomas, and hands them a stim shot. "Try this."

Tomas steps back, adding more room, but also wants nothing to do with this Spirit-binding work.

Well, here goes nothing." Rodrigo jams the injector into Blip with a practiced motion.

The Stims are injected into Blip, whose pupils start to dilate and his breath hitches still. But after some moments, he manages to catch a few shallow breaths. He's deleterious and semi conscious. But alive, for now.

Leonz and Payne find the private, who is utterly spooked. "What the fuck was that, Corporal?" He says. The kid looks barely eighteen years old.

''Chemical bomb,” Payne replies as he reviews him.

"Chemical bomb? Like the Spitalians?"

Leonz adds, "Gas bomb. Spitalian in origin, I'd guess. The good doctor here seemed to recognize it."

''Notice anything strange before all this?'' Payne asks.

The Private looks over their shoulders at Rodrigo, who's attending to Blip. Then the private suddenly pulls Leonz and Payne closer. He lowers his voice. "I saw him come back to the Outpost after you all initially left. The Spitalian, I mean! He was the last one in that briefing room... Looked suspicious to me. And he recognized the bomb?"

'You sure it was him?''

"All Spitalian looking, the fancy gas mask and all!"

Judge Payne looks at the boy. ''They all wear it.''

The Corporal quickly adds, "I was with him the whole time. There must be another one here."

The Private looks confused, "How many Spitalians arrived today?"

Payne turns to Leonz. ''I'm going to ask around. Something's not right with this.''

"Something's not right. Something's just not right." The private is still panicked.

"Right, good luck. I'll get a headcount,” Leonz adds as he walks away. “Good work, private."

The private nods shakily, clutching his Trailblazer.

Blip is unconscious, but his condition is relatively stable at this point. The stim shot seems to have powered his body through the worst of it. Thankfully he doesn't seem to have gotten a full exposure to the nerve agent. He'll live... But he might not be the same after it all.

"This is. What is this?” Tomas asks, shocked, “What sort of Spirit does this?"

Payne walks off into the crowd. He thinks to himself, ‘Once again, it began with an attack, and once again, I had no idea what to do except look for answers.’

"Not a spirit, just a gas,” Rodrigo adds unable to sign, “You know when... when you're having a fire and breathe in some of the smoke, and it makes you cough? This is more or less the same thing but a hundred times worse."

"Everything has a spirit Spitalian, and you have binded something great, if this was the doing of your folk."

It seems three Hellvetics didn't make it out. They died writhing on the floor until they just... Stopped breathing. Truly a fearsome weapon, and how much more is out there is unclear.

Payne begins asking for a man clad in white, with a black mask.

When asking about a Spitalian, Judge Payne gets pointed in the direction of Rodrigo. He's the only Spitalian anyone's seen in a long time... And if that's the case, then who left the chemical bomb in the outpost?

It was not.

So that was the first session. I've been transforming out logs into something more readily readable, but I don't know if it jells with the storytime format. I can start writing up more of a general synposis, or keep it in this format. Questions? Also, I can answer anyone's questions about the world and such now that I've completed the first bit, and we have a break here.

Nice. Sounds like you've got a bit of problem with loose fingered magpies leaving their toys around.

greentext your stories fucking reeeee

Honestly this seems okay to me. Crab-sama does another story time that is wuite popular and uses a much less edited format.

How did the players take to the exciting new world? Did you intro them to it or were they previously aware of the setting before you pitched your game?

Everyone had to read the game before hand. Though, I'm a player, not the GM. The GM always sees Degenesis threads devolve on Veeky Forums, and doubted a storytime would stay on topic for long. This seems fine though. If you guys want an update, it'd probably take another hour, or two.

Personally I would love an update. I can't convince my groups to play it so I want to hear how it pans out. The one side refuses to read the voluminous source material and the others are invested in ongoing campaigns.

You could read your section, but those players are lazy and would half ass it, so I haven't pushed.

I will just have to live vicariously for now.

Out of curiosity, which character is yours? The spitalian, clanner or Helvetic? I assume you aren't judge edgemaster.

Try showing them the trailer on YouTube. It's a good in. Grabbing food, then expect something in an hour.

I'd like to not say, but I'm the Clanner. I made his clan up, if anyone wants to hear about that. I can also summarize any part of the setting to help someone get into it.

If you don't mind talking about your clan I'd appreciate it. He sounds interesting.

Also less Mad Max thunderdome than a lot of the other clans that do get talked about.

The Orosians lie in former Bavarian, in a valley hidden from most. They are a religious sect that believes that all creation was made by one God, and that Eshaton was his test for humanity through his shadow. The religion is heavily inspired by Zoroastrianism. The Orosians as part of their coming of age ritual, craft a mask for themselves and join the fold as field hands or craftsmen. From there, one either stays as a craftsman or farmer, or becomes a Hunter or Apprentice. Hunters go on to become warriors, while Apprentices become Shamans. Shamans specialize as Talkers, Healers, or Builders. Then there are Elder Shamans. The Elder Shamans are led by the Avatar of Oros, an elder that has gone on a spirit quest and returned after getting a vision to come back.

However, the Orosians never play a large part in the game, as the game is not about them. It's about Junction.

Fair, but it's neat info. Looking forward to future posts.

The real question is, who will and when upload the newest expansion to mega?

A day later... The attack on the Hellvetic outpost has sown chaos into the area. The outpost is sealed until proper decontamination procedures can be applied. The Hellvetics camp in their tents now, like much of Junction. There's confusion, suspicion, and fear in the air. Freja of Reschen has done her best to keep her men organized. Today, she has called Corporal Burkhalter for a briefing of the situation.

"Corporal, I heard about your efforts to evacuate the outpost during the attack."

"Yes sir. We realized the potential danger of the device, though I assumed conventional explosives at first."

"Your efforts are appreciated. I've received more than one thankful report from the recruits about the incident." She turns to a crate beside her and pulls a small box of ammunition from it. She hands it to Leonz. Inside are 3 HF Hollow-Point rounds for his Trailblazer. It seems, with recent deaths, there's a bit of a surplus. "Take this. I want you to stay with the delegates from Justitian and find out who committed this attack, and why."

Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to use them well, to protect anyone else from this threat. As far as our leads so far; it seems a Spitalian is responsible for planting the device, sir. I personally vouch for Gutierrez. I was with him all day, and his efforts to save Blip speak for themselves.”

"Which suggest an impostor, or something far more sinister."

"Yes, sir. Judge Payne is currently pursuing that lead. I'll lend whatever help I am able."

"Good. Do that. And find out anything you can about the weapon used from Gutierrez. Be careful out there, Corporal. The Apocalyptics are likely on edge after this, too. They have eyes and ears everywhere. You're dismissed."

"Sir."

Meanwhile, Blip is resting in a large and hastily assembled medical tent. Hellvetic medics do their best to treat those that were exposed to the nerve agent, but their abilities don't match a Spitalian's. Blip, thankfully, has survived the attack thanks to the Stim shot Rodrigo delivered. He now lays on one of the many cots in the sizable, square looking tent. He's conscious now.

Tomas stands by him, ensuring no spirits come to make his condition worse, by watching his body for any signs of worsening condition. Rodrigo is of course looking over him as well, monitoring his situation. Blip's recovery seems like it will be slow. He still shows symptoms of exposure, but they are lessening slowly. His breathing is still unsteady, and he remains bedridden. One moment while Rodrigo and Tomas are beside Blip's cot, Blip reaches out and weakly grasps Rodrigo's hand.

"R-R-Rodrigo, I give you t-the benefit of the d-d-d-doubt... B-but you're sure this isn't the doing of y-your people?" He says. Rodrigo and Tomas have noted that Blip has developed an uncontrollable stutter. Perhaps a side effect of the attack?

"I wouldn't know by whom, nor for what purpose. As far as I know I'm the only one of ours here. Besides, the way the container was rigged up was unusual, it didn't go off properly. One of ours would have known to avoid that."

Tomas says squarely, "Enlightening statement, Spitalian."

"I d-dread to see what a p-proper attack would look like..."

"You two must find out who did this, and bring them to j-justice."

"That... Is an order."

Rodrigo nods, "I'm sure Judge Payne will know how to take care of it."

Tomas takes off his mask, placing it down on a table nearby. His face is that of a young man, not much older than Blip. "Understood."

"Then leave me b-be and solve this b-before another attack occurs. You'll do no g-good waiting here for another assassination attempt."

Rodrigo stands up, adjusting his suit as he does so. "See if you can scrounge up some filtered masks. They probably won't protect completely, but they might buy you some precious seconds."

"I'll get the Hellvetics on it."

Muttering a short prayer underneath his breath, Tomas puts back on his mask. "I agree, being passive now will leave us nowhere. Guiterrez, friend, we should endeavor to work together if we wish to have success in this."

Rodrigo turns to leave. "Very well, let us get to it."

They leave the makeshift hospital tent and head back out towards Junction. There, they meet up with Leonz and find Judge Payne. What has Judge Payne been doing?

Judge Payne has spent the good half of last day and today trying to find the man in the white suit. There's confusion about the man he's looking for. The only Spitalian anyone has seen recently is Rodrigo. The closest guess is that it could have been an Apocalyptic in disguise, which Judge Payne has heard of from some of the Clanners of Junction. Many of them are naturally distrustful of the Apocalyptics. Judge Payne gets a sense there's tensions and grudges between common folk and Apocalyptics that's been brought from Balkhan. Payne thinks prospects are dim. ''The camp was a maze of rusty shacks and ripped tents trying to hold up to the storms.''

Something a bit different from Justitian, where the Apocalyptics remain on good terms with many Clanners, due to the vices they offer.

Payne thinks to himself, ‘And yet, despite being on the constant verge on ruin, they did a damn fine job of hiding the truth.'

The rest of the party finds Judge Payne, now. And the group is reunited for the time being.

Leonz asks, "Any new developments? How's our friend Blip? He already hated it here, I doubt this did much to improve his outlook."

Rodrigo sighs, "He'll make it, though I doubt a full recovery is likely."

Tomas has gone back to a sort of hunched over appearance, gripping his ornate staff. He looks to the group, questioning who to trust. For now, he'll just have to be open with these westerners and pray to God for the best. "It is as the Spitalian speaks, the Chronicler will not meet a full recovery. Though there should be done something about that stutter."

After a pause, Leonz asks, "So, what was it, doctor? You seemed to recognize the bomb. What are we dealing with?"

Rodrigo answers with, "I have seen a similar agent in our laboratories before, a most unusual find. I'd hoped it was all destroyed and the project shut down by now, but perhaps that is not the case. However, I do not think it was a Spitalian who planted it. The mechanism was too crude for that."

"One of our men swore he saw you returning to the barracks. Now, I know it wasn't you, but whoever it was had the whole suit. My first guess? It seems like somebody is trying to pin this on your order."

Payne replies after a grunt, ''Looks like it.''

Tomas reviews his companions, "The camp is amiss with rumors, as I suppose you yourself has heard Judge. I don't believe the Apocalyptics are responsible...for this, at the very least. I feel we may be facing something far more sophisticated. In addition, I don't see what the Apocalyptics have to gain either."

Rodrigo ponders this, "You may have a point. If this person was able to get their hands on a controlled substance from our laboratories and a hygienicist's suit as well, they must have quite some influence."

Leonz affirms this with, "Yea, but they probably know more about it than we do."

Payne nods, ''True. 'I feel as if the culprits are being manipulated by someone.'It isn't hard to get an Apocalpytic to do something.''

"Either way, the flock is gonna be pretty on edge after this, I expect. But they've got an extensive network, and I wouldn't put it past them to carry out something like this."

Tomas places a finger on his chin, beneath the mask, "Perhaps...we could extend an offer of camaraderie with them?"

Payne raises a brow.

"If they are not to blame, perhaps we can employ them to help us find out who is. Figure out a place for them in this settlement, turn their harm to good."

While they talk, the group sees two Clanners pass by, pulling a sled behind them with what looks like a body on it, covered by a blanket. Another dead, it seems. The ground outside is still frozen and snow covered, meaning bodies cannot be buried yet. One has to wonder how many bodies remain unburied here.

Judge Payne shakes his head, then looks up at the clouded sky. ‘What better foundation is there for justice, than a pile of bodies? This was how I had done it in the past. It seemed that it would stay the same.’

“I think I'll take a visit to this Underground.''

"I shall join you,” Tomas replies, then turns to the other two, “Corporal, Spitalian. Do you believe you can both find a way in, or would you prefer handling another task that needs doing here? Our investigation cannot override all our responsibilities to Junction."

Rodrigo nods, “I'm not sure I have it in me to be, what should we call it, inconspicuous?"

Leonz shrugs, "Well, my orders are to find out who did this and why. And it's pretty dangerous in the tunnels. Though if we're going to split up, I'll stick with the Spitalian. More for your protection than out of suspicion."

Payne grunts again, then says, ''Fair enough.''

“If somebody wants to drive a wedge between the people here and the Spitalians, Gutierrez may be a target as well."

"This is the truth,” Tomas agrees.

Rodrigo says to the others, “I'll take care of my original assignment for now. A walk around the settlement and a survey of the state of its inhabitants. If that is alright with you, Corporal?"

“Sounds good, doc. The people will be grateful for it."

The entrance to the Underground is a large, arched tunnel that descends down into the earth. The concrete stairs are lined with rusted metal railings. Some people meander about, and the sounds of civilization echo from within. In front of the entrance are some Apocalyptics, looking more like bouncers than anything. They're probably vetting anyone who wants to come into the Underground.

Payne walks up to the two Bouncers, playing it Bogart, as usual. ''Heard this is where you go to get some drinks around here.''

"Little Birdie told you that, huh? Then that little Birdie probably told you there's a price too, huh?" One of the bouncers says, smirking, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Payne sighs, ''How much?''

"A stiff like you? Twenty Drafts."
''Ten.''
“Need the extra for the slammer.''
"Deal. Ten Drafts and you're in."
''Alright.''

The exchange is made and the bouncer pats Judge Payne on the back on the way in. "Have fun in there, pal."

“'Yeah.'' Payne walks in, with a touch of that old familiar feeling. Again, an Apocalyptic Den, again, no clues, again, no idea. ''At least I didn't bash my way inside.''

Tomas approaches right after. The man looks little different from the other Clanners, though he has less adorning symbols that would denote who he is. All that Tomas is wearing is some scavenged pants, and his leathers. He walks forward with his thumbs in the hem of his pants, walking up to the door nonchalantly.

The bouncer steps in front of him. The same one that stopped Judge Payne. "Whoa there, you know there's a fee to get into the Underground.”
“Twenty drafts, and you're in."

There didn't used to be a fee, but things may have been stepped up recently for some reason. It's not entirely clear. What is clear, is that the bouncer wants twenty drafts to get in now.

"Aw come on. That's way too steep. How am I supposed to buy anything inside with that kind of charge? There wasn't a fee last time I came by."

“Yeah, well now there is. If you can't pay the fee, who says you'll even be able to buy anything inside anyway? Y'know?"

"Why would I come up to the Underground if I didn't have money to spend huh? And if I was just some schmuck I'd pay the toll up front like a fool. So I'll pay ya 10 drafts, even though that's still killin' me."

"Alright, alright, fine." The bouncer says. He takes the ten drafts from Tomas and waves him on in.

Tomas immediately starts looking for Payne. Not to approach him, but just to know where he is.

"Better then than zero" He mutters as Tomas descends the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, the station opens up. It's a large concrete platform with stark support pillars holding it up. There's plenty of stands, stalls, and other assorted vendors gathered around here. It's a bustling market, and way busier than either Tomas or Judge Payne might have expected.

Vendors shout over one another, peddling goods brought in from Balkhan, or found in the tunnels. The platform ends with a short drop, leading to the railed tunnels that extend to the north and to the south. It serves almost as a main road, which is lined with tents and shacks like the above ground has.

It's almost a whole other settlement down here. And Payne and Tomas can see many different Apocalyptic colors on the Apocalyptics here. But predominantly it's a dull blue and grey checkered pattern. The Undying Wing's colors. There are doors lining the tunnels, they once were for maintenance, now they lead into more private rooms, bars, lounges, and eventually Burn dens.

Hell yes Degen storytime!

Tomas looks on in wonder, thinking to himself brightly as he smiles to the new faces. Interesting, multiple wings in the same roost? Tomas did not know much about the Apocalyptics, but understood that they generally competed with other groups rather than cooperate. Maybe the Undying Wing was taking a cut? Perhaps. Speculation for now, it would take some more investigating to tell. For now, Tomas played his part as the young, pompous fool while keeping his eyes keen on the surrounding areas.

Judge Payne is shuffling his way through the crowds of people, looking for a Bar that serves vodka slammers. He finds a bar, it's loud and crowded, and there's a bare knuckle fighting ring in the center. People cheer and jeer at the violence, as a challenge takes on the current champion, a woman who seems to have the spirit of Balkhan infused in her violence. Drafts are bet, everyone's shouting, but still the Bartender notices Judge Payne.

"What can I get you?" He asks. He's wearing the colors of the Undying Wing, but the general occupants of the bar are a mix of Clanners and Apocalyptics, mostly. Tomas comes in as well, finding Judge Payne at the bar, as well as seeing the same sights the Judge has.

''Vodka Slammer.''

"You from Pollen?" The Bartender asks as he assembles the drink for the Judge. He sets it down in front of Payne.

Payne looks at the fighting ring and the cheering folk with faint disgust. ''Drugs, booze, violence, and justice for all. I wasn't going to be able to crack on crime. I had to crack the case.'' He slams the drink on the counter so the carbonated liquid in it starts sizzling, and downs it in one sip so it doesn't spill anywhere.

''Nah, Ferropol.''

"Ferropol? Tough." The Bartender remarks, watching the fight. A lanky guy was fighting the champion, and the bets seems pretty split at this point. Cheers of 'fuck her up, Penko!' and 'You can do it, Jacinth!' permeate the air. It looks like standing close to the ring runs a risk of getting blood splattered on you.

Tomas steps on to the bar, but is a few seats down from Payne. He looks around with a dumb smile that has new kid written all over it.

The bartender moves down to Tomas. "What can I get you, kid?"

"What's your cheapest drink?"

"Distillate, straight. Unless you want water." He laughs.

"Right, maybe a water to start off. If ya have it. Not been the best day."

"Alright." He says with a shrug, pouring a glass of water for Tomas.

And soon enough, the drink is refilled. The fight ends with a messy crunch and a tooth landing in someone's drink. It seems poor Penko got knocked flat off his feet, and the woman remains champion. Money exchanges hands.
Judge Payne waves the empty shot glass at the bartender. ''Hey.''

''Hey, what's with the ring?''

"Helps everyone blow off some steam."
''Smart. Speaking of blowing off some steam...''
"And mixes well with the Distillate."
“'Can I ask you something?''
"Yeah, go ahead."
''Back in the Protectorate, there was this guy who got me some Burn. Miroslav. You know him?''
"I might. Why?"
''Because I'm here to bust his ass.'' Payne chuckles.

''I just need some burn. He gives me a discount. Used to know my sister. Y'know.''

>The one side refuses to read the voluminous source material

For what it's worth, you don't need to actually absorb the whole thing or anywhere near that to play. The setting book is *very* big-picture, covering everything from Portugal to Poland and a broad chunk of the northern African coast. Unless you're making a point of having an extremely mobile party (e.g. boating around the mediterranean sea), in a single given campaign you'll probably only ever engage with a fairly small fraction of the fluff. The game basically expects the GM (and players) to pick out a particular corner of the gameworld and figure out the details among themselves.

"Check the Lazy Field, it's a lounge down in the North Tunnel. You might find him there, if he's still working. Just don't call it a whorehouse. They like to hold themselves in higher esteem."

''Right. Do you have to pay to get on that ring?''
"You wanna fight?"
''Helps blow off steam, eh?''
"It's free. We can set you up with a fight to test the waters."

And with that began Payne’s crescendo of dumb moves.

Rodrigo and Leonz remain above ground, with the rest of the miserable folk. They walk around the settlement, through Underpass, then climbing the rickety metal stairs to Overpass, then back down to venture through the outlying camps. Just a bit north of here is the Jehammedan camp, on the very edge of Junction. All the shacks and tents here are exposed to the elements. The Underpass is all but full, no more room for shelter under there.

They see the two Clanners who were carrying the sled with a body on it earlier. They're laying the body down in a cleared out area, surrounded by other blanket-covered corpses. This appears to be what goes for a graveyard, now.

A third man stands with them, his arm wrapped in a dirty rag that's red with what is probably blood. He's injured.

"Excuse me,” Rodrigo asks in his most polite tone, “my good man, but might I take a look at that? It's best not to leave an open wound untreated, particularly not around cadavers."

"It's plenty treated." The Clanner says. He's not too old, but not too young either. Grey flecks his dirty hair. He seems sickly and his eyes dart between Rodrigo and Leonz.

"Have you disinfected it, at least?"
"Have I what?"
"Washed it out. Put some alcohol on it, so it won't fester."

"Alcohol's for drinking. I washed it in some water, though. Then wrapped it."

"Doc, the water most of these people have isn't what you'd call... clean."
Mumbling to himself, Rodrigo says, "I'm not sure there's anything here I'd call clean."

"Anyways, perhaps I could just give it a quick once-over? Just to be on the safe side. Free of charge, naturally."

"Okay, if you're a doctor." He says, holding out his arm for Rodrigo to look at. "I'm Silas." He says. The other two Clanners, who have finished depositing the corpse and covering it, take their leave. There's likely more bodies for them to find and move today.

Rodrigo can tell that it's starting to get infected. A mix of local Borcan herbs and bed rest could help fend off that. Other than that, disinfection and a new bandage would help him on his way. The wound is on his forearm, and looks almost like... A bite mark?

Rodrigo begins cleaning the wound with some distillate. "Say, that's a rather unusual wound. How did you come by it?"

"A beast attacked in the night! A gendo, I think... Stephan was killed by it before it ran away." Silas says, looking down to the latest corpse added to the cemetery.

"A single beast did this? You'd think they'd be more wary of people. Particularly with such a loud and bustling settlement."

"I know, but the Gendo have been terrorizing us at night for a while! We've lost a lot of good folk to them, picking us off in the night and running before they're caught." Silas motions with his free hand to many of the bodies in the cemetery.

This entire game has taken place in East Borca, a subsection of one of the six major regions in the game.

“We've been killing Gendo since we got here. Of course, there's not as many patrols out as we'd like, and I've seen a lot of attacks. But they always come in packs."

"W-well, maybe the pack leader went out alone?" Silas says, unsure. "It was as big as one."

Leonz raises his hand, "Silas, is it ok if the doc and I take a look at Stephan? Your bite looks a bit different than the gendo bites I've seen."

"Oh. I guess so. If it'll do good. Just don't disturb him too much. He's earned his long rest."

"Thanks, Silas. I know it's probably not a pleasant memory, but anything you remember about the attack could be important."

Rodrigo finishes up cleaning the wound and wraps it in a fresh bandage. "There, that should do it. Keep it clean and... maybe don't wash it unless something gets into it."

"Thanks, doctor, I'll remember this." Silas says. "It was dark out when it happened. Stephan and I were heading back to our camp after doing some drinking. We were just about at our camp when it leaped out at us from the shadows! Bit me and knocked me right on my ass when I tried to push it away."

Stephan's body is uncovered, and it's in bad condition. His right arm is broken at the elbow, with jagged bone sticking out from the dead flesh. His clothes are tattered by claw marks, and a variety of chunks have been bitten out of him roughly, it seems. But it also seems the beast's meal wasn't finished before it fled.

Rodrigo says to Leonz, "I suppose the cause of death is no great mystery, at least. What do you make of it, corporal? Ever seen something like this before?"

"His arms broken. That's a bit odd. Usually they'll go for the throat. Although, we know they're usually pack hunters. Silas, you said the attack occurred just outside your camp?"

"Yeah. Stephan and I were camped out on the outskirts... Most of the attacks are away from most of the people." Silas says. That is normal Gendo behavior, to hit the outskirts, but something still doesn't add up.I haven't gone back to where we were attacked."

"Right. It might help if we went and checked it out. In the meantime, try to stay in larger groups, and limit going out at night. Thanks for all your help, Silas."

"Yeah, thanks. Be careful! It was mighty strong."

Rodrigo sighs and turns to Leonz, "I suppose we really do need to look into this, or else it'll get overlooked in the general commotion. A fair warning, though, I'm not much of a fighter."

"Just keep your wits about you. Best case, we can track it a bit, and I'll take the shot before it knows we're around."

"Worse case..." Leonz pulls out his bayonet

The site of the attack is a few minutes away from Silas's tent. The snowy ground is splattered with blood and torn clothes in spots, and there's a variety of tracks on the compacted snow. The Corporal kneels down among the tracks to examine them. Leonz finds the beast's tracks relatively quickly. With his survival skills, he manages to gather plenty of information about the creature. It was alone, and two legged, though the actual footprints look like that of a Gendo or a Bear, maybe.

It's heavy, as shown by how the prints sink into the snow more deeply than that of the men who were attacked.

"Well... it's got the tracks of a Gendo or Bear, but get this, doc; I'm pretty sure it walked on two legs. Heavier than a man, too. As far as I could tell, Silas was right. Just one creature."

"That... does not bode well. It might be some kind of spore beast or other mutant."

Just a note, we have combat coming up and I'll have to creatively write to keep that condensed so posts will slow down a bit.

"Beats me, doc. I haven't heard of anything like that."

Rodrigo, likely thanks to his Spitalian education, has heard of Spore Beasts in Borca, they are rare, often travel alone, and tend to live further North. Other than that, he doesn't know too much. Spitalians fight packs and hordes of Spore Beasts in Pollen. But from what he knows, Spore Beasts in Pollen and Spore Beats in Borca are very much different breeds.

"I'm not an expert on this, but it really might be a Spore Beast. They're not exactly easy to classify, after all. From what I hear, they're really rather dangerous even to a full mission."
Leonz grimaces, "Your spear there will warn us if it's close?"

"Oh yes, I'm quite confident it will. Though the reaction might not be particularly strong, so we'll need to keep a close eye on it."

"Right, you watch that closely. Stick close to me, and I'll try follow the tracks. We should head out so we can find it before nightfall."

"Lovely. Just lovely."

Leonz nods, with another grimace, "We've got three men dead and more laid up. And I don't think the locals stand much of a chance. You think the Voivode has any men to spare?"

"He might, though I'm not sure if he's the type to spare them just based on our word."

Leonz checks his magazines, then his shotgun rounds. "Yea, that's my thoughts too. And any time we spend trying to explain things to him is just time for the beast to hide. You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Back at the bar in the Underground, Judge Payne is getting set up for a fight, while Tomas takes in the atmosphere. And boy, is it an aggressive atmosphere. Noise, shouting, drinking, fighting, all the good stuff. The Bartender asks Tomas: "Gonna get something stronger than water, kid?"

"Maybe. Some bruisers at the front took most my draft to get in. You can blame them, not exactly bleeding money at the moment."

"Hah! You fell for that scam?"

"More I didn't want to get my teeth rearranged at the first door." Tomas decides that he will probably leave the bar to look at the other areas of the underground. The parts that don't have a bustling amount of traffic, that don't have crowds.

'Less busy' doesn't mean not busy, it turns out. The Underground is less of a maze than a tunnel packed with people. With only two directions to go most of the time, the tracks serve as a main street of sorts. Just about any vice you could desire can be found here, and there seems to be a thriving black market. The further one goes down the tunnel, the more sparse the tents and shacks and stands are. Is there anything specific Tomas is looking for? Anything suspicious, anything noteworthy, anything...easily joined into.
To initiate oneself among the scum of this pit.

The easiest way to initiate oneself would be to join into some group activity. In a gambling den, or a bar, or a fighting ring, like Judge Payne decided. Or, one can always slip off the beaten path into the maintenance hallways, looking for something behind closed doors. But that runs the risk of trespassing.

Tomas finds the nearest gambling den, where the sounds of dice fill the room, cards are shuffled and dealt, and chance rules the day... But meanwhile, the ring organizer has set Payne up for a fight. He stands in front of the Judge, sizing him up. "Alright, no armor, bare knuckles only, anything else goes. What's your name, fighter?"

''Payne.''

The organizer laughs. "Hah! Last time we had a guy named that he didn't make it through the first round. You ready?"

''Yeah.''

Payne sighs. Thinking to himself, ‘I felt like I was walking into a trap. I felt guilty, like I was about to get caught.’

"I've set you up with a guy named Little Radko. Little brother of the freshly defeated Penko. I think you'll do fine..." The Organizer says. Then he gives Payne a push into the makeshift ring, surrounded by spectators. Little Radko steps into the ring, a lanky Apocalyptic without a shirt. He's hopping up and down, trying to pump himself up.

He's young, compared to Payne.

The bell rings, and Payne moves first on him. Weaving forward, he lands the first punch on Radko's gut. That doesn't stop the kid from returning the favor, slugging Payne right in the jaw right after. "Eat it, s-sucker!" Radko yells.

''You play, you pay, you bastard.'' Payne winds up a haymaker, but Radko notices the obvious move and managed to block the punch, keeping his footing after the hit to stumble a bit. However, Radko goves for an uppercut. Payne takes it off the cuff of his chin, moments before punching Radko square in the face to break his nose. He lands on the floor, out cold. The crowd cheers and jeers all at once.

Money is exchanged, some folks clap Payne on the back in congratulations.

"Get yourself a drink, you've earned it!" The organizer says. He's already grabbing the next two angry fellows that want a go at each other.

Judge Payne puts his coat back on, and decides that the auspicious beginning of his journey could take him to Miroslav. To the Lazy Field. He could only hope that the name wasn't inaccurate. But, experience told him he was more likely to face Burn addicts, agitated like a mouse in rut, and ready to go fifteen rounds with a mutant.

Meanwhile, Tomas is entering the gambling den. It's a decidedly cooler atmosphere than the bar. Less violence, for sure. But much more tension. People play cards and dice games around tables, bets are made, risks are taken. All the tables seem full... Though one fellow sees Tomas standing there and waves him over.

"We got a newbie here, I see." The man grins.

Tomas waltzes over, a giddy grin on his face. "It does seem so. What we playing?" He sits down, but still seems bursting with energy, like he's about to go for a sprint dash to a finish line. Very nervous and twitchy looking.

"What are you betting?"
"Five draft?"

"Hah! Alright, alright, we'll go easy on the new guy." The man says, the others at the table agree, but seem to be chuckling at Tomas's low bet. "We're playing a game called Crater, you'll love it. I'm Andrej." He extends his hand to shake Tomas's.

Tomas takes the hand, but not straight away, more like coming around hooking about the side and taking up the palm with a hearty squeeze. Well, as hearty as he can make it.

"And you are?" The man asks squeezing tight.
"Wern,” Tomas replies with perfect, false sincerity.

"Alright, Wern, let's play." Andrej says. The game uses two decks of cards and pits all the players in a bidding war, with each card having a certain value attached to it. It's a fast paced game, and requires cunning and luck in equal measure to get anywhere with it...

I'm not one for story time but it is nice to see one about degenesis I always wanted to play ina game of it but no luck so I plan to run it in a few weeks sometime in the summer. Anything I should note as new gm for it?

After a couple rounds, Tomas ends up making his bet back plus an additional 10 Drafts.

"Huh! Beginner's luck I'm sure."

"Not bad." Andrej says. "Where do you come from, kid?"
"Here local in Borca. Decided that this place could use a lovely face such as mine to brighten it up. You been topside? So gloomy."

"Lots of opportunity topside, too. You spend a lot of time around Apocalyptics?" Andrej asks. Tomas notices Andrej is wearing the colors of the Undying Wing on his arm.

"My family gives them guidance and sells them foodstuffs on their trip to Pollen. Never spent this much time around most though." Tomas pretends not to notice Andrej is an Apocalyptic.

"Well, you should hang out more. Maybe you'll find some opportunities of your own, down here in the underground." Andrej smiles. "Another round?"

"Sure! Why not lose my money?"

Rodrigo and Leonz have begun their tracking effort, following the tracks to the north-west. Leonz expert survival ability and the lack of recent snow helps him stay on the track of the beast. It leaves the vicinity of Junction and heads into the snowy East Borcan forests, which are dense with vegetation. It's a far cry from what one might find in most of West Borca. Nature is unbridled here.

Decide what you want the game to be about. Degenesis's setting casts a broad net, with many elements, but don't try to use each and every one. My GM set out to tell a story about a group of people trying to keep a settlement afloat despite sinister elements preying on it.

The tracks go on for a while, getting steadily more recent. They weave around the trees, sometimes they stop entirely, only to pick up again some distance away. It's a tricky prey to track, but they manage it. The sun is on its way towards setting when they reach a break in the forest. A slope descends downwards to an old, ruined building. It looks like it was once a factory, perhaps. Now it is rusted, snow covered, and overgrown. The tracks descend down towards it. A lair, perhaps?
Leonz curses under his breath, "Shit. If it's gone to ground inside the building..."

"That doesn't bode well for us,” Rodrigo asks his Hellvetican companion, “does it?"

"Yea, you bet I'm not too keen on going inside. Let's see where the exits are, and set a trap."

The building is bound to be a maze, it's dark inside, broken windows peer into dark rooms within. Leonz is the first to notice the mollusk twitching faintly as they approach the building. The snow crunches underfoot.

On the top of the Spitalian’s signature weapon, the Splayer-spear, is a embryo infected with Primer called a mollusk. Around the corruption of Sepsis, it rattles inside of the glass enclosure on the spear. Here, there is a reaction, though Rodrigo notes it is small. "It appears like we feared. In all probability we're dealing with a spore beast."

Leonz glances back, and upon noticing the mollusk shoulders his rifle and flips off the safety, raising his finger to his facemask, in the universal sign of "shh".

There's a rear entrance, which is a small door, and a main entrance which are double doors, hanging open slightly. There's also holes in the roof, but getting up there would be a task. The sun continues its lazy descent down towards the horizon. It's overcast, hidden behind clouds. Everything is dreadfully quiet.

Rodrigo hunches down, happy to let the Hellvetic take the lead.

Leonz signals to fall back from the building a bit, "Alright, here's what I'm thinking. We can block the rear door, then try to bunker down with a good view of the front.”

Looking at the tracks, they seem to be scattered all around this area. And they stop and start again at random points. It could get in and out of here in a variety of ways.

First, Rodrigo's Mollusk taps against the glass, breaking the silence. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Second, both of them hear movement, the snap of a twig, brush of a branch... And Leonz realizes. It's not coming from the factory. It's coming from the opposite direction, up at the top of the hill. Every once in a while they can hear a faint sound, but then it stops... And dreadful silence fills the air again. They can't see the creature, but it's out there, circling perhaps, watching, waiting.

Leonz Burkhalter instinctively shoulders the rifle again and flips around towards the sound, scanning for the beast.

Rodrigo feels the color leave his cheeks, "That's... that's good, isn't it? Now you can just shoot it a lot, right?"

Whispering, and without turning his head Leonz replies, "I wouldn't say good. We've lost our element of surprise."

Rodrigo knows that Spore Beasts in Pollen roar and charge in hordes. This is clearly not the same behavior, if this is a spore beast at all.

This implies intelligence.

"It shouldn't be this cautious. Usually they're said to be much more bestial."

"Well, you can tell it what it's doing wrong when we find it." Leonz starts cautiously moving towards the hill

Rodrigo Gutierrez keeps up with the Hellvetic, staying behind him and trying to watch their backs.

It happens quickly. From the top of the hill, a massive log is thrown down the edge, tossed from the growing darkness in the woods. It flies at Leonz and Rodrigo. Rodrigo manages to get out of the way in time, but the branch hits Leonz for 4 damage (Armor applies) and knocks him off of his feet, pinning him underneath this heavy branch. There's an angry roar from the treeline, then stomping and movement, then silence again.

This creature is toying with them, or planning something... And they are not in a good spot right now.

Rodrigo Gutierrez hurries over to try and lift the branch off of Leonz

Out here, they're exposed and in the open while this intelligent creature harasses them. Rodrigo is hit as a rock hits him from afar! The building would offer shelter, or be a grave for them. Either way, this creature seems to understand the threat these two men pose, with their weapons.
Leonz starts to lift the tree off of him, and manages to sidle out from underneath it with some effort. Only some scuffs on his harness because of it.

If they pay attention, they can hear the creature's movements, but it is hiding out of sight. Something precise to hit it would require a change of position, or something to illuminate the wooded area.

Rodrigo Gutierrez gets out the Coldlight module for the Splayer, "Corporal, will this be enough for you to make a shot?"

"It'll have to be.”

Leonz has to wait for a moment, rifle at the ready, but he gets it. There's a flash of movement and they see part of the creature, large with a mottled hide, it is natural for such a creature to use darkness to hide itself. There's a moment where he has a shot, though it isn't the most clear. Deciding to take it anyway, his Trailblazer barks fire towards it. The shot rings out true and the beast cries out in pain from it, reeling. Choosing now is the time, Leonz fires another round. The beast roars from the shots and sprints off into the forest at a frightening speed. Its feet stomp thunderously and it smashes into some things during its retreat, it sounds like.

"Shit!” Leonz shouts, lowering his weapon a hair.

"We'll have to go after it, don't we?" Rodrigo asks him,

Leonz answers him by sprinting after it.

Rodrigo Gutierrez hurries to keep up with him, frantically pumping the Splayer to keep the Coldlight going.

----------------------------------------

Tomas's time spent in the Underground and the gambling den has given him some insight on the Apocalyptics here. There's a diverse amount of them, mostly Balkhani but from many different Apocalyptic flocks. The vast majority belong to the Undying Wing, of course. Outside of areas like fight pits and particularly rowdy bars, it isn't as violently chaotic as one might expect of the Apocalyptics. They almost seem restrained in the tunnels.

Tomas has had good luck playing the games of the Apocalyptics, and has conducted himself well. The leader of this little clique he's playing with is apparently a Vulture, which is a rank that often works hand in hand with Scrappers.

>Decide what you want the game to be about. Degenesis's setting casts a broad net, with many elements, but don't try to use each and every one. My GM set out to tell a story about a group of people trying to keep a settlement afloat despite sinister elements preying on it.

Yeah that makes sense its a lot to take in and doesn't seem like a great idea to use all of it at once I have to set down and go over books again to see what ideas I get.

"You know, you ain't so bad, Wern." Andrej says, using the fake name Tomas gave them. "You looking to stick around here?"

Tomas takes a moment, reviewing the room for discontent and mistrust. There seems to be some ambient tension that one would expect, of course. But there isn't outright conflict of any sort. It almost seems like the smaller flocks are working alongside the Undying Wing. Either somebody has them under an iron fist with a lot of leverage, or somebody is great at diplomacy.

"Work isn't so great up there,” Tomas, as Wren, replies to Andrej, “Actually, might be too many people and too little shit to go around. That doesn't seem the case down here, huh? Well my folks always told me go where the food is. Pretty simple saying to live by. Yeah, I might stick around. Why, ready to see me out before I take all your money?"

"Hah! I like you, Wern. If you're fine with getting your hands a bit dirty, then you can find plenty of work down here, if you make the right friends." Andrej looks over at one of the clocks in the room, ticking away. "I happen to have some business to attend to. But you know what? If you're looking for some fun, head down to the Lazy Field and tell 'em Andrej sent you. They'll give you some good discounts. And who knows, maybe if you keep showing your face around here, some work will come your way, eh?"

"Who needs work when my luck is gonna keep me fed at this rate? But jokes aside, I'll have to take you up on that offer. I'll have to play cards with you some other time Andrej, maybe let you win."

"Victory's earned, Wern. Victory's always earned." He says, standing up and gathering up his things.

Payne is already on his way to the Lazy Field, with a mission. His fists have already been bloodied from his introduction in the fighting pit. He weaves through the crowds of the North Tunnel until he sees a makeshift sign hanging over one of the maintenance doors. The Lazy Field. The paint on the sign is reflective and catches the eye, and a burly looking Apocalyptic stands beside the door. He's not wearing Undying Wing colors.

Payne walks up to the Apocalyptic bouncer, rummaging through his pockets as he walks, looking for spare cash.

The bouncer looks Judge Payne up and down. "What's your business here, huh?"
''Heard this is where the fun is. I just had a round at the Pit, figured it'd be better to blow my steam here rather than there.''
"The pit, huh? Who'd you go up against?"
''Radko? Lanky guy.''
"That little bitch? He owed me money. You knock him flat?"
''Foot in the balls.''

The bouncers laughs and claps Payne on the shoulder. "Fitting for him. Alright, you're cool, go on in. Oh, and if you go back to the fight pit, watch out for the queen bitch champion. She'll tear your head off."

''Sure will.'' It's uncertain if Payne replied to his warning for the queen or to his remark about what the queen'll do to him.

The bouncer smirks and steps aside to allow Payne passage.

Judge Payne flinches for a moment as he walks inside. Thinking to himself, 'The all too familiar scent of Burn grew more and more pungent with every breath I took, like a hounding beast coming closer.'

The inside of the Lazy Field is spacious, considering the area. It seems like the Apocalyptics cleared an entire chamber of piping and wiring, to open up a sort of lounge. There's even Gendo fur rugs set between old chairs. There's a bar here as well, and the place is decidedly more quiet than the last bar Payne went to. It's almost relaxing... A haze of smoke fills the room too, smelling of cigars. The Burn is probably done elsewhere, but if Miroslav makes his roost here, you could likely buy the stuff here...

Payne looks around for someone who seems to have the characteristics of a pimp.

While he looks around, the bartender catches his eye and nods in the direction of a tall, pale Apocalyptic standing on a metal balcony that overlooks the lounge. Payne can also see some doorways up above. The rickety metal staircase leads up to the balcony area in an L shape.

Payne walks over to the Bartender. ''You got a slammer?''

"I got everything, man." The bartender says.

''Alright, one slammer then. Say, is that fellow over there the one who handles the private business?''

The bartender starts to pour the drink for Payne. "Yeah, he's the one. He'll set you up." At the same time, Tomas reaches the Lazy Field as well, and can easily get in with Andrej's mention.
''What's his name?''
"Ricard."

The unknown friend waltzes his way with a cocky grin that doesn't fit him. His eyes are focused in, but his face is youthful. Looking to be foolish in a way. Payne knew better. He knew the kid had a plan for everything. "Hey, you the pit fighter? Seems like my luck just keeps getting better. Names Wern, what brings ya here? A drink, or, somethin' else?"

''Name's Payne. Back off.''

Judge Payne makes a facial gesture, brief so it's recognized but not as long to be perceived by others, signaling in a more friendly way for Tomas to stay put.

"Alright, alright." He does so, moving to a spot far away from the fighter.

Payne walks up to Ricard, leaving his slammer unattended. ''I couldn't let him mess this up. If anything, I was going to mess it up, and I wouldn't let anyone else take the limelight.''

Tomas, meanwhile, plans to just sit around and maybe eavesdrop. Get a feel for what's happening around here.

Ricard regards Payne, eyeing him cautiously. "Yeah?"
''I hear you're the one handling the... mutual experiences.''
"Yeah. What's your preference and budget?"
''I'm open for anything, really. Can you tell me about the options?''

He seems to think about it at first, then decides the best options for Payne based on the first glance. "We've got Christa, who's kind of a fireball... Maybe not quite the match for you. Savannah, she's been at this for a while, you won't find anyone more skilled than her... We've got Miroslav, if you're looking for something a little more easy going."

''Hm, I'm a man of broad tastes. Tell me of this Christa and Miroslav.'' Payne makes an offhand gesture of his face to Ricard, asking for a physical description.

"Christa's a redhead from Franka originally, tough girl, likes to get rough. She's lanky, though. Not too much for you to handle. Lots of freckles, but eh, that's how they come. Miroslav, well, he's a chiseled guy. But soft at the same time, y'know? I heard he used to model for portraits, before he moved out here."

''Freckles, eh?” Payne says, looking around, “How much's Miroslav?''
"Fifty drafts."
''Reasonable. Where to?''

"Room C, down the hall behind me." He points his thumb behind him to a door, which leads to the private hallway. "Only one way in or out, so no cheating him on the payment."

''Alright.''

The stark hallway is short, and the door labeled C is slightly rusted, but closed. It's unlocked.

Judge Payne walks in. 'I could only hope that my façade wouldn't last long enough to get intimate.'
The room is small, with the bed taking up most of it. A sheet metal nightstand beside it, and a small Gendo rug underfoot. The room is empty, Miroslav isn't here. There's a slightly crumpled piece of paper on top of his bed and some of the room looks disheveled. Payne looks around the room, checking for any hidden corners, and then underneath the bed and the rug. There's not much of value in the room. Probably taken with him, wherever he went. The paper on the bed is a scrawled note, ''...Fuck.''

Payne takes some time to search through the nightstand. And by chance he finds a false bottom in one of the drawers... In it, is an unlabeled cassette tape.

Up above ground, the sun is setting, its dying light reaching through the maze of trees that is the East Borcan forests. A Scrapper has made camp as the last light fades, a camp fire with a cooking pot over it crackles. Karl is on his way to Junction, and has almost reached it. By tomorrow, he'll be there...

And the East Borcan forest is almost peaceful, until the thunderous stomps of something trampling the forest approaches rapidly, accompanied by a howl. Then suddenly, it bursts into the slight clearing where Karl's camp is. It blasts though at a sprint, trampling over Karl's campfire and knocking the pots and pants all over the place with a loud clatter. Then it's gone, sprinting off still. It was big, bigger than a man, standing on two legs but very inhuman... And it was panicked.

And shortly after the sounds stop. And silence takes over the forest again. The stomping didn't fade into the distance. It just stopped.

Karl scoops up his spade in a panic, then stands there breathing. Listening. Looking. "Bad camp, better- better not be here. Damn."

If any beast deserved a bullet, it was this one that had just run through his camp. Next, two men burst into Karl's camp from the same direction the beast ran from. A Hellvetic, and a Spitalian, both sweating from the all out run after this beast.

Rodrigo Gutierrez huffs with heavy breathing, "Large creature... bipedal... come here?"

“Yes! Who and what?"

"Shit." Leonz, starts looking for tracks, or a trial of blood. The tracks in the snow carve through this camp, amidst the scattered pots and pans and dying campfire. There's slight blood in the tracks, too.
"Some... mutant,” Rodrigo replies to the Scrapper, “Spore beast, maybe. Unknown genus. Not friendly."

Karl starts quickly piling together his things, scooping them into his pack. The strangers are well armed. He mumbles the word as a question- "Genus?"

Rodrigo's light illuminates the camp nicely. Considering it can't be heard anymore, it's either hiding, stopped for some reason, or has ran out of hearing range which seems unlikely.

Karl asks the pair, "You men hunters from that town sprung up near here? Things like that running around, I'd like to tag along."

Rodrigo looks to Leonz, before shrugging, "We're more like... pest control, it seems. Though my comrade here has been doing most of the actual work so far."

Leonz’s eyes are focused all around, “Another set of eyes couldn't hurt. I'm Corporal Burkhalter. We should get a move on before it can get too far."

Karl looks over the equipment of the two men, fumbling his own old rifle into a working order. "Yeah, Karl. Let's, ah, get to it?"

"Rodrigo Gutierrez. Yes, I suppose we should continue on. Maybe it'll just bleed out before we get there." The tracks lead north, easily followed in the snow. The red flecks of blood show up clearly in the light of Rodrigo's coldlight.

“I put two hollow point rounds into it before it ran. If it's not down yet, then it's still a threat."

Karl walks along behind the two men, training his eyes to the less-lit areas beyond their party.

Rodrigo holds up the Splayer as high as possible to extend their light. The tracks keep going, and going, it's clear the beast trampled a lot of foliage along its rapid sprint. Then... The tracks just stop. In the middle of the tall Borcan forest, the sunlight gone now, illuminated just in the light of Rodrigo's coldlight. The tracks stop.

They stop, Leonz looks up into the dark trees. Karl looks up, too. The Coldlight only extends so far, the canopies are cloaked in darkness... Then it leaps down from one of the trees, behind the group, where their eyes weren't focused. It moves fast, and as it fully enters the light of the Coldlight, they see it in full.

"Shit,” Leonz mutters.

This huge, bipedal beast. Scraps of fur on parts of it, mottled skin on other parts, it's a mishmash of creation, a laughable facsimile of humanity. Hard, black, calcified growths extend from it like armor, covering its arms and chest. Its mouth is a shattered nest of jagged teeth, each one pointing in a slightly different direction.

And naturally, the beast leaps on Leonz, who had injured it previously. The soldier reacts with all his training and experience can allow, but the monster is quicker. As it starts to maul him, his gun can’t turn to fire upon it. Claws rend at Leonz armor, just as he stabs it in the side with a bayonet. Blood spews from the wound, painting the white armor crimson. Rodrigo hesitates, before trying to stab, but nearly misses and hits Leonz. Just nearly. "I hate this bloody thing!" The Doctor yells.

Karl’s rifle only has a single shot. Being a young man, he’s absolutely panicking. “Shit, shit, shit!” Squeezing on the trigger, he fires the one round. It zips by Rodrigo’s shoulder. The beast roars as it continues to pound on Leonz’s chest. The plates buckling quite severely from the onslaught. “Die!” Rodrigo bellows out, stabbing his spear deep into its side, throwing it off of Leonz.

Rodrigo hits the splayer's cutting function, making the blades spring out, digging through the creature's flesh and spilling its blood all over the snow. Then he pulls the Splayer out, snapping the blades shut, and jams it through the skull of the beast. The roar stops suddenly. The Splayer's tip hits the snow beneath the creature, its head impaled on the blade, oozing blood. Its eyes blank.

He let's go of the Splayer and stumbles backwards, falling to his knees.

"Oh fuck," Karl wheezes out.

Rodrigo curiously observes his shaking hands, "Well. Perhaps... perhaps that combat training was good for something after all."

"What, was that not normal- You alive over there?" Karl unsteadily works the bolt on his rifle, pocketing the brass

Leonz winces, holding his chest

Rodrigo turns to the Corporal, "Let's get you out of that harness, I fear some ribs might be broken."

“See doc, I knew you'd come in handy. But not till we get back to the base."

Rodrigo grimaces, "If you must. Try not to bend. Or to lift heavy loads. Or do anything at all, really."

“That's, ah, some kind of equipment you guys have,” Karl states, “Everybody geared up like that back home?"

"Yea. Not for sale, sorry."

Rodrigo mutters as he looks at Leonz, "Depends on where you call home, really."

"Shit, it hurts to breathe. Alright doc, you win,” He pops the straps on this chestplate.

"Much better, let me just take a look here..."

"We should rig up a sled to drag this thing back to base. The people will be glad to see that it's dead."

"...there, that should at least stop it from getting worse. You'll still need proper treatment back at the base."

With the creature lying dead (with a head that some people would probably pay to see), and the three men still alive and breathing, things have turned out pretty okay, all things considered. But now, we'll switch perspectives again, back to Junction, back to the underground where time is told by a clock and not the sunlight.

Back to Judge Payne, his hands on that cassette tape. The only person he knows who might be able to play it would be Blip, if he's in any condition to do so. And that note he found... Somebody's got dirt on Miroslav. Once again, it looks like there's more going on here than it initially seemed. Payne walks down the stairs, unsatisfied. What little justice that could be brought here has lost its chance.

Down below in the lounge, Tomas is acclimating with the Apocalyptics, being a friendly face to them. The general mood is that this is a place of relaxation. Most people are here to forget about the hustle and bustle of the outside. Everyone seems to have a stake in the Underground, but only so many of them are significant. There's a name Tomas hears over and over again, though. Old Blood. And he hears it from more than just the Undying Wing.

Payne winks at Tomas as he walks outside.''Keep walking with me. I need your help on something. You'll need to find what something is for me.''

Tomas walks and talks, "You should have let us talk to each other, now it just looks quite peculiar. Not odd for friends to speak, but a man who just told me to back off? Looks very odd. What is it you need my help with?"
''#24B. It's a place. Where is it, what is it. Need to find out. Also, by any chance, have you met an Andrej?''

"Why yes I have indeed met with Andrej. He took a liking to Wern. At least I hope. I may have Wern join the Wing, might find out more that way. 24B...sounds pre-Eshaton. Like those signs."

''Wern?''
"Ah, my name is Wern here."
''Oh.''
''Right. If you can, find Andrej. Sniff around.''
"Why? You tell me that, then I help you."
''He's an instrument of crime. I don't have any business with him. Yet.''
"Hm. What's he have to do with 24B?"
''I guess there's one way to find out.''

"I recommend we leave this place now. We've done a good bit of scouting, why overstay our welcome? I'm more interested in dealing with the Gendos on the surface. I will come down back here, later, and find your information."

''Eh, alright. I've still some business to do.'' Judge Payne wanders back to the Pit for a drink.

>no online games for Degenesis

What did you expect from playing in Degenerate: Cuckbirth

Tomas snoops through the North Tunnel again. The marketplace is as busy as ever. A map of the tunnels, just a glance at it will tell him what he needs. He manages to find a partial map of the tunnels, old and ripped, for 5 drafts.

"Can I take a look at this? Don't know if I wanna buy it yet."

"You break it you buy it." The vendor says. Even though the map is kind of already broken... The map is hard to read, but Tomas does get a sense of an order to the old subway map. A variety of maintenance tunnels follow naming schemes like 22A, 22B, 22C and so on. Tomas thinks 24B would be significantly far north, judging by his understanding of the map.

"You've got your five drafts." He'll need it.

"Don't get lost out there." The vendor says, taking the drafts gleefully.

"Back again, eh?" The Bartender says, cleaning a tin cup with a not so clean rag.

''Can you tell me something? Does #24B ring any bells?'' He notices there's a variety of Apocalyptics sitting around, nursing bruises and beers alike. Looks like a whole gang of em got beaten up today.

The bartender shrugs. "What's it mean to you?"

“A place.”
“Never heard of it.”
''You sure?''
"I stick by the platform, I don't go too far North."
''It's to the North?''

"If I haven't heard of it, it probably is. Besides, outsiders would do good not to snoop around. Plenty of gangs looking for trouble. If you're here on tourism, stick to the safe places."

After the bartender mentions 'safe places', someone steps into the fighting ring only to get knocked out a round later, with a broken nose. This is what went for safe places in Apocalyptic country

''Ah, well... Fuck. You might remember this guy I mentioned. I think he may be in trouble.''

"In trouble, eh?" The bartender looks at Payne skeptically.

HE SAID THE MAGIC WORD EVERYONE
GET OUT THE KAZOOS AND CONFETTI
HE SAID THE MAGIC WORD!

''Well, I don't know what sort of trouble. Figure there's plenty going begging around. Just look at that crowd.'' Judge Payne flicks his head towards the beaten Apocalyptics

"They signed up for that."
''Signed up for what?''
"The beating."
''They signed up to get beaten?''

"Well, no. They signed up to become kings of the Pit and subsequently got beaten. But everyone could see how that would end. I swear, nobody's gonna want to fight anymore by the end of this week."

'Damn. Is it the girl?''
"Yep. Broad came in about a week ago and has been stomping every challenger since. It was fun at first, but it's not good for business at this point."
''Yeah, I can see that. Oh, and, a slammer.''

The bartender sets up the drink and slides it to Payne. "If you want me to look into your friend's problem, maybe I can. If you get this broad to leave my fight pit alone."

Judge Payne slams the cup down and gulps the drink as it fizzles. ''That can be arranged. When do you need it? Sooner the better, I assume.''

He nods. "Sooner the better."
“Alright then. She here?''
"Yeah, by the pit. Think she's out of challengers for the time being."
''At worst there'll be some flesh blood spilled in the Pit.''

Payne leaves the empty cup on the bar and walks over to the Queen.

The Queen of the Pit looks young, some fresh bruises on her face, and a cut on her scalp has stained her with blood. She's drinking from a tin cup and regards Payne as if he's a walking joke. She smiles.

Payne looks at her, then says, ''I hear you've been stirring up quite the trouble.''

"And I hear you just arrived today. Feeling lucky?"
''Sure.''
She grins, then laughs. "Seriously? You wanna go?"
Payne looks at her, unfazed. ''Yeah.''

She stands up and rolls up her sleeves. "Alright, let's go." She says, the crowd starts cheering again, ready for fresh blood.
"Try to make it fun."
"I can only hope.''

Tomas finds Payne in the Pit, walking over to his next mistake. It's a familiar sight at this point. The man begins struggling to get towards the Pit. The brass smell of spilt blood and sweat hanging lowly in the air, bodies pressing against each other screaming cheers. By the time he's able to see what's happening, out of his curiosity, his mouth drops.

What kind of Judge is this?

Jacinth opens up by running forward, she's going to use a combination roll to pull Payne's face down into a flying knee strike. Payne only has a split second to react, and it isn’t even enough. As he’s struck in the face, Payne sees she’s already moving again on him. The Queen of the Ring fights with almost inhuman skill. The skill of someone dedicated to her art. She throws a wicked combination of punches at Payne.

It's absolutely brutal. Payne is rocked side to side by the strikes, hitting his face, his ribs, one shot hits his kidney particularly hard. He drops like a sack of bricks to nobody's surprise. There's a lot of laughter, cheering, and jeering. It was at least entertaining. With Payne barely conscious, Jacinth moves up to him, standing over his beaten form. "You've got balls, I'll give you that." She says, then grasps his arm and pulls him unsteadily to his feet. He's basically out of it, but Payne notices something interesting. The woman has a crude brand burned into her inner forearm, he thinks he spots a number. Three? Then he blackouts. Tomas sees him slump and a few Apocalyptics move the bloodied man to one of the chairs.

Judge Payne can only hear a faint laugh in his ears alongside ringing, in his eyes, the muscled forearm of his ravager.

Tomas can't move to collect him without endangering everything. But the man is blacked out. Whatever he wanted in 24B...Will he have to go there alone? Perhaps he will. But the Apocalyptics aren't robbing Payne blind. Rather, they're waiting for him to wake up, like most of the challengers have to.

A surprising amount of respect from the Apocalyptics.

Rodrigo has patched up Leonz well enough for the time being, but Leonz is still in pain from the beating he took. It was his harness that saved him, really. He turns to Karl, "Well, with that out of the way, what brings you here, my good man?"

"Looking to meet new people, ha, mission success, huh?" Karl adjusts his ragged coat as he stands.
Leonz looks at him seriously, "You almost met death. It's dangerous out here alone."

"Pff, I know it. Only trouble here was trouble got the jump. Not often things catch me off like that. Hell of a monster you guys got."Karl looks at the freakish thing. "Hell of one.” He shakes his head.

"Meaner than the gendos we're used to,” Leonz states.

Rodrigo starts tugging at his Splayer, trying to extract it from the carcass

Karl laughs, "You're telling me!"
Rodrigo grunts, "I have to say, I don't think I've heard about this particular kind of beast before. You were right, corporal, we really should bring back the body. My superiors will want a proper dissection."

"Heard about some new town growing up near here, with folks from far away. Figured there wasn't any better place to be right now. New stories, new artifacts, new people. You two musta come by that way- and you don't seem the same kind."

Leonz nods, "Right. A place called Junction."

Rodrigo pulls his splayer free, "We're from different... organisations, if you will, but we're working towards the same goal."
Leonz looks at Karl, "People there are in a bad way though. Need food, supplies, everything."

"Just my place to be, then! Plenty to pick out in these woods most other folks don't find or mind." Karl shoulders his spade

The trip to Junction could be made within the night, if they move at a steady pace. It may be better there than staying out in the cold for another night, really. And safter.

"Trying to take that whole beast with you?" Karl asks.

"Yea,” Leonz replies, “I’d like to bring it back whole.”

Rodrigo nods, "If we can. It'd be such a waste to leave it for the scavengers here."

Karl taps his chin, "Some ropes could be tied to it and it could be dragged by the three men, in a pinch. I've some rope with me. Find some bigger branches, I might be able to chuck together a dragger.”

The Corporal nods, "Sounds like a plan."

Rodrigo looks to Leonz concerned, "That would be great, but Corporal, we shouldn't strain you any further if we can avoid it."

The sled is assembled quickly and the massive beast is rolled onto it. Together, the men can drag the thing back to Junction, with Rodrigo's coldlight leading the way like a beacon. A trail of beast blood follows them through the whole forest journey.

"So,” Karl asks, “'organizations,' huh? Not much organization around where I've been. How far out are you two coming from to my woods here?"

Rodrigo thinks for a moment, "Well, personally I'm from the other end of the world. But in the shorter term, I come from the Spital not far beyond the Reaper's Blow.”

"As for me;” Leonz adds, “There's a detachment of us down from the alps, keeping the peace in Junction."
Karl whistles, "All kinds at this new town. Very nice to meet you."

Junction comes into sight, and the men pull the corpse of the beast to the Hellvetic outpost. People who are still awake at this time gasp to see such a creature's corpse. Freja of Reschen heard of the disturbance by the time they reach the outpost at the south end of Junction. She's waiting for them with a small detachment of Hellvetics. Lights illuminate the camp of tents, while the main building is still off limits and sealed off due to contamination from the nerve agent attack. "You've returned,” Freja states, “Status report, Corporal."

Leonz fires off a salute, "Sir. We tracked down the beast reaponisble for several deaths. Followed it to an abandoned building, where it tried to lead us inside to ambush us. We spotted it in the woods, I shot twice; both hits. It then fled, and we persued, where it attacked again. We finally took it down when Gutierrez got his spear into its neck. It was damn tough, sir. Doc says he's never seen anything like it."

Freja nods. "Good job." She looks at the corpse they've been dragging. "Drop that off at the medic tent, we'll have it examined with the Spitalian tomorrow. And who's this?" She asks, looking at the Scrapper.

Karl waves. "Karl, ma'am. I walk these woods."

Leonz throws his thumb towards him, "Ran across him in the woods while pursuing the beast. He helped us get it back here." To Kar’s credit, Leonz doesn't mention he missed a shot. His only one.

Rodrigo shrugs, "Ah, while we're at it, I'd like to commend the corporal for his, er... efficiency. Without it, the beast would still be roaming and we'd be dead. Though he probably should get himself checked out by your medics."

Freja nods appreciatively, "Good work, all of you. Karl, you may stay in our camp in return for your assistance. Rodrigo, Leonz, get some rest and get checked out by the medics as soon as you can. I expect all of you, and your other two companions, to report to me tomorrow while Blip is still in recovery."

"Sir yes sir, “Leonz salutes sharply, before grabbing his chest in pain and heading towards the medic station.

Tomas begins checking the map, and follows along to where he'd find 24B. It's late and people grow tired, but the Underground never sleeps, it seems. As Tomas moves further North, the population gets less and less dense. And consequently, he starts getting more noticeable. At a certain point, he knows that 24B is going to be beyond the last of the Apocalyptic camps. It is in the abandoned, empty tunnels.

Dark, too, with occasional shafts of moonlight floating down from cracks in the ceiling. Tomas begins to put on the mask, figuratively, and focuses his attention on not being seen and moving in the dark spots. Any sign of movement and he freezes up.

Nobody seems to notice Tomas as he shuffles along the dark tunnel. Eventually he finds it, 24B, a heavy door leading into a maintenance tunnel, like a maze almost. Hedecides to check the door, putting his ear to it. The Orosian hears muffled voices beyond. Not directly on the other side of the door, but deeper in. Two voices? That's what it sounds like. Tomas decides to take his chances opening the door.
Slowly.

The door slowly opens, and Tomas sees it's a cold metal hallway that turns into a catwalk about halfway through. Tomas can see light from the room below the catwalk, and the voices much clearer. He makes out a few scattered words here and there. "You... Looking... Head... Suppliers..." It's Andrej's voice, he recognizes it.

"Fuck... Stakes..." More scattered words, Tomas will have to risk getting closer to hear more details clearly.

Tomas sneaks in steadily, his feet soft on the metal grating. He gets up to the edge of the hallway, just before the catwalk, and peeks around the corner. He sees two men meeting in what looks like the remnant of a generator room. Once whirring machinery now lies dormant and dead.

"You know I'll do what I have to, if you don't cooperate. Give me a list, and you're free of me."
"Old Blood would have my head, and yours. This won't solve any of my problems, Andrej, you know that. It'll kill me just as surely as you will."
"You'd get to live for a few more days, maybe even run away from here like you did in Justitian. Or you can back me. A lot of people are backing me now, you'd be wise to join in. Side with me and you won't have to run anymore."

There's a long pause in the conversation as Miroslav considers this. Then a deep sigh that echoes through the room.

"Alright, I'll give you Old Blood's suppliers. As long as you keep me protected..."

Tomas begins to leave. He knows enough. He has a new plan.

The voices fade as Tomas sneaks away, until he finally can't hear them anymore. Then, he starts moving. He needs to find someone of authority, and fast. He'll look for the highest ranking Wing member. He feels the need for sleep calling to him, but he continues on, moving south towards the Apocalyptics again. Where the markets still bustle, even if they are quieter than they once were. The night owls wake while the day walker sleep, and the gears of society keep on turning.
The difficulty is, Tomas doesn't quite know the ranking system of the Undying Wing...

Especially as the crowds have shifted, the faces are different, the colors are different even, as different flocks emerge in the night-time underground. Tomas find a fellow eventually and hazards a guess that he's got some authority. He looks like he deserves it, at least. A big burly battle crow with braided hair. "Yeh?" He asks, turning away from the shop stall he was looking at. He stands a head taller than anyone else.

How to go about this. There is a sensation in his guts, his eyes sagging. Best to attempt to do this with his mask still on, the face he wears as Wern. "Heya, mate, I don't mean to waste your time or anyone else's but I happen to know something a little important. Would be really nice to speak with whoever's in charge right now about it."

"You want to talk to the boss, yeh? What business you got with him? He don't take many audiences."

"Information. Now, if I tell you what then it's pretty worthless huh? I promise it won't be wasting yours or his time. And if you or him disagree, then you can rearrange my face. How about that?"

The burly Apocalyptic nods. "Alright, alright, I'll pass it along, but don't expect to get an audience with him. The boss takes his time with things, see? What's your name?"

"Name's Wern, but I'm gonna warn you this is time sensitive. Tell him it's urgent, like damn urgent. Like if he doesn't pick it up right away then shit will happen."
"Not a threat. Statement."

"Yeah, yeah, it's always urgent. We'll find ya if he wants a meeting, now hurry along."

Tomas will wait in an open spot to wait. Maybe Payne might be awake by now. The Apocalyptics don't rush to tell the boss in the dead of night. Tomas knows that he's not going to get in immediately. Even rulers need to sleep, it seems. And without status of his own, Tomas is a nobody here.

Perhaps he'll be lucky and Andrej won't be moving on him in the middle of the night. Maybe. Otherwise that piece of information will be useless. He'll just have to wait around and show he's dedicated, sleep be damned, but that doesn't hold him forever. Maybe it's wise to pull out and get some rest before making a meeting with the leader of a powerhouse in Junction's Underground.

The next day, the team of delegates gathers for a sit-rep with Freja. It's expected, of course. Tomas and Payne can go into the Underground freely at this point. Tomas looks tired, and Payne looks like he's in pain, like he took a damn good beating. Rodrigo, Leonz and Karl are already there outside the outpost, by the command tent.

Freja looks at Tomas and Payne, "Ah, there are your two compatriots."

Tomas is still a little drained, but looking better. He checks up on Payne, not noticing the extra man in the room. "You need to place some herbs on that cut. Hmm. A woman's fist that causes a cut, curious." He hasn't put back on his mask.

''Ehh.'' Judge Payne rubs his face, as if he's trying to put pieces back or something. ''Rodrigo'll help. I hope. My head is killing me.'' He wipes blood from underneath his ear.

Good stuff. Keep it coming OP

"Whatever trouble did you get yourself into down there? Looks like blunt force trauma... did somebody beat you with a shovel?"

''Payne train came crashing. I got what was coming.''

Freja crosses her arms, "I suppose your scouting of the underground didn't go well."

Tomas smiles, "No, it went superbly."
Payne looks up, ''I have a question for you.''
"Me?" Tomas asks him,
''Freja.''

Tomas begins looking around now, and locks eyes with the Scrapper.

Karl looks up from his slightly confused counting of the bills, hearing the voices in the room. A dumb grin spreads across his face. "Tomas?"

Tomas doesn't reply immediately, then, "It's been some time, hasn't it?" He relaxes visibly, putting an arm to lean against the doorway as he doesn't feel as strong anymore.

"Some winters, at least. I was not expecting to find you anywhere near here."
"Oros called."
"Must have, must have. But - " touches his face, then points to Tomas'.

"I had to remove it. I trust the people around here. Besides, westerners can't even find the valley with a map. And no one outside of this room know this face and that mask are the same."

Karl looks around the room, "So what's this delegate business then? New to town, and the camp didn't talk much."

"I won a lottery,” Tomas replies as he smiles.

Judge Payne turns to Freja, face still soggy, bloodied.

"Go ahead, Payne."
''Do you people mark your soldiers?''
"We have tags for that."

Payne lifts his arm and points to underneath his hand, where his vein would be. ''Around here. A number.''

Freja shakes her head. "No. Why, do you suspect a Hellvetic down there?

“Well, I don't think a Chronicler could do this.'' Payne rubs a cut above his eyebrow.
"You'd be surprised. Were they wearing a harness, carrying a Trailblazer?"
''Bare hands. Thought maybe there was a desertion involved.''
"Unlikely. Keep an eye out."

Judge Payne nods silently. 'Another dead end.'

Freja turns to Rodrigo. "Gutierrez, I remain concerned about the recent attack on our outpost. Have you considered sending in a formal request for Spitalian support over this?"

"I think that may not be wise, ma'am. If I may interject? The camp is nervous of the Spitalian, and more might upset what little ground we've gained. And again, I believe your soldiers might be on edge about more Spitalians after one of their weapons was used to attack the base."

Rodrigo nods, "That's a fair point. I'll do a full dissection of the body, of course, but as soon as I send it over it'll likely catch the attention of the Geneticists or the Preservists. Or both."

Freja continues speaking, "Decontamination procedures are the specialty of Spitalians, and you alone don't have the resources to do as much as you need to, here. I'm afraid your workload has increased significantly with recent events."

Rodrigo sighs, “Then I suppose it'll have to be that way. At least we're very likely to get more manpower this way, though I fear they're more likely to bring weapons rather than aid. I'll try to emphasize the needs of the refugees as best I can."

Karl absorbs the conversation, wide-eyed.

Leonz spots someone approaching the camp. Not a Hellvetic, an Apocalyptic wearing Undying Wing colors. It's a woman, with dark skin like a Neolibyan. She's walking with purpose, right towards the command tent. The Hellvetics are scattered and inexperienced enough to not stop her immediately, and she's close to the tent by the time a few privates stop her, guns raised.
The woman raises her hands in peaceful surrender and calls out towards the tent.

"I am here for the Spitalian!"

Payne turns his head to the source of the sound. He then looks at Rodrigo, dumbfounded.

Rodrigo shakes his head, "You'd think we could have just one day in peace..."

''If only I could,” Payne states bitterly.

"I don't suppose any of you know that woman?"

Tomas slinks off. He'll put on his mask.

Freja squints, "That... Is Old Blood's bodyguard." She seems confused as well.

Tomas races back with just his mask, not much of his other iconography besides his cloak.

The woman appears unarmed, and has two Trailblazer wielding Hellvetics trained on her, but she appears unafraid and confident."Come out and see me, face to face." She says.

"I suppose we might as well just get this over with." Rodrigo exits goes to meet her. "Yes, I'm here, what is it?"

She stares the Spitalian in the eyes, watching his every movement."Before any brash decisions are made here. Old Blood seeks a personal meeting. You would be wise to accept."

Payne slumps after Rodrigo, standing somewhat behind him, trying to get a look at who's talking.

------------------

And that's the end of session 3. I'm going to take a slight break. The next two sessions will be all that's left of Season 1 of House that Violence Built. During this time, I'll answer any questions people have and take in any feedback.

seconded

And we're back, and it's going to posts all the way to the finish for this session.

The delegates have found themselves face to face with Old Blood's bodyguard. The dark skinned woman stands with her hands raised as Hellvetic soldiers train their Trailblazers on her. Her message: Old Blood wants a meeting, specifically with the Spitalian delegate. Freja of Reschen seems unsure and untrusting, even of a seemingly unarmed Apocalyptic in their camp. She looks at Rodrigo, the main recipient of this message from the Apocalyptics. "Tread carefully, Gutierrez."

"Just one uneventful day, is that so much to ask..." Rodrigo pinches the bridge of his nose."What would this meeting be about?"

The woman responds by saying,“The attack that occurred on your outpost. And the future of this settlement."

Rodrigo looks to his companions,"Thoughts?"

Judge Payne is dumbfounded, 'Hell if I know.''
Karl states enthusiastically, "I'd like to know!"

"I would caution meeting with him." Tomas takes a step towards Rodrigo. "Spitalian, I would also ask if you could allow me to join you in these talks."

Payne nods, ''Tag me along too. Just say I'm muscle.''

"Payne, you do not have masks such as I. Do you wish to throw away the work we've made?"

Judge Payne gives an obtuse look to Tomas. “I got beaten up, Spitz here patched me up. Paying back the tribute.''
Rodrigo thinks on it, "I suppose that's the wisest course of action."
Karl nods vigorously, "Yeah, 'the future of this settlement' seems a matter for all those who've a mind."

Rodrigo turns back to Nadya, "Fine, then. I'll come, but my compatriots here will accompany me."

"So be it. We will increase our security, but you may all accompany the Spitalian to this meeting. Follow me."

Leonz gets pulled aside by Freja for some specific Hellvetic tasks. The rest of the group is lead through Junction to the Underground, where they descend the steps down into the subterranean section of the settlement. The main platform is as always filled with a bustle of activity, and down on the tracks leading down the tunnel, it's the same. A rusty squeaking sound approaches as a man on a handcar on the tracks approaches. Periodically he rings a bell to warn pedestrians of the approaching handcar. A convenient way to travel the railed tunnel. He looks at Nadya and the delegates and nods. Nadya hops on board with Rodrigo, Karl, Payne and Tomas, and off they go…

North, up the tunnel. The tracks are bordered by shacks and stands and the whole tunnel is filled with people. For Karl and Rodrigo, this is a new sight, and might be intimidating considering just how many people are down here... And with the size of the Underground, the denizens of the Underground could easily match the numbers of refugees above ground. After a time, the handcar comes to a squeaking halt. "Off ya go." Says the operator. They have stopped in front of a set of metal double doors guarded by some tough looking Apocalyptics. Text that once might have said MAINTENANCE has been spray painted over with the Undying Wing's emblem and colors. Nadya looks to delegates, “Your weapons will be held outside of the meeting, you may have them back once it is concluded."

Tomas gestures to his staff, anticipating its removal. "It is a symbol of my station, and not very sturdy. I will remove it if you wish, however. We come in the name of peace."

Rodrigo hands over his Splayer and Fungicide gun. "I suggest you do not handle these very much. Their components can be rather unhealthy, and I think the cartridge may be a bit leaky."

Judge Payne grunts silently as he goes through his pockets to remove a thin knife and a studded knuckle duster.

Karl snaps his attention to, the mix of concern and awe that stuck on his face through the trip quickly being replaced with some trepidation, “Even my shovel?"

Nadya nods, "I've killed a man before, with a shovel just like that. So yes."

Tomas let's out a chuckle at that.
Karl works his mouth a few times, before handing his few personal finds over. "What'd he do for that?"
"He stole my other shovel." She says, deadpan. It's hard to tell if she's serious or not. "Now come, Old Blood is waiting."

The door guards put the weapons in a trunk, then Nadya guides them through the double doors. The large hallway floor is spotted with dark reddish brown spots, stains, rust, blood, or a mix? Who knows. There is another Apocalyptic on guard in here, but he ignores Nadya and the group. Nadya herself appears unarmed, just like the group. Finally, they take a sharp left and enter an office door.

Inside is a decently furnished office. It appears that someone has put effort into restoring it. A wooden desk that looks scavenged, not handmade, sits on the center. There's a few chairs, even a bookshelf with some sporadic tomes. The largest chair is turned away from them as they enter. "They are here." Nadya says simply, then steps aside. She remains in the room, but is clearly no longer the defining presence. The largest chair, behind the desk of course, spins on its swivel to face the delegates of Justitian.

"Good. Please, sit. There's a lot to discuss." Old Blood says. He's older than most Apocalyptics. Middle aged for sure. Most Apocalyptics live fast and die young, but this man seems to have stayed alive, even if it wasn't easy. Half of his face is warped and scarred by what look like acid burns. One eye blank and blind.

Rodrigo takes a seat, "Let's get to it, if you would. I've a lot of work waiting for me."

"Indeed you do. I'd just like to make sure it's the right work." He says, then looks to the rest of the group, waiting for them to sit too.
Tomas will watch, assess, and wait for the perfect time to speak up. This meeting was between Rodrigo and Old Blood, not him. He will find a way, however. And of course, he'll sit down.

Karl is momentarily distracted by the presence of intact books, then moves to take a seat adjacent Tomas.

Judge Payne also sits down uncomfortably, not because of the chair but because of the situation, his eyes occasionally slipping to assess the room.

"You all know of me, but I will introduce myself anyway. I am Old Blood, and I'm in charge around here as you can so clearly see. But now it's time for each of you to introduce yourselves." He speaks with a calm, cool timbre, and seems almost reserved... Odd for an Apocalyptic.

"I get the impression you already know who I am. But in any case, my name is Rodrigo Gutierrez."

"Tomas Reik of the Orosians. Aid to Junction, on behalf of the Clans of East Borca. Here to be of service to you and all others." Tomas inclines his head towards Old Blood.

''I'm Payne Paying my debt to Rodrigo.''

"I, uh, I'm Karl, and I'm just a fellow who walks the woods." He shifts in his seat, feeling small against the importance in the words everyone else produces.

Old Blood gives a small smile, apparently pleased with getting the formalities done. "Good. My desire is simple, as you might guess. I want to see Junction thrive in peace. I've requested Mr. Gutierrez here for one reason. I'm sure you've been thinking of requesting a Spitalian investigation into the attack on the outpost... Don't."

Tomas smiles beneath his mask.

Rodrigo raises an eyebrow, "And I'm sure you have a reason for why I shouldn't?"

"I'm sure you know how quickly your comrades will turn their eyes to my folk, and the Burn trade. And how quickly they'll be to deploy Preservists here. And I'm sure you know how dogged Preservists can be when it comes to solving their 'problems'. So I propose an alliance between us."

Tomas would like to ask Gutierrez about that. After the meeting. For now, they must present a united front.

Payne keeps a straight face, as he always does when he's angry.

A long breath after, Rodrigo says, "Frankly, so far I'm not seeing much of a downside to the scenario you proposed."

Old Blood continues, "Could you estimate the combined number of Apocalyptics and burn-using refugees in Junction?"

Tomas decides to help Old Blood’s argument, "They would lose sight of the point, they would not serve us but their own agenda. Surely you want an answer to the attack rather than a purge of the settlement?"

Rodrigo grows serious, "Above all I want a settlement in good health. Freely circulating the spore-borne poison you call Burn is difficult to square with that."

Old Blood waves his hand, "If you hope to stop the trade and usage of Burn, you're naive. I control it, which is far better for you than having a free market."

"Aye,” Tomas agrees.
"I'm extending an open hand here, to prevent needless bloodshed and perhaps solve both of our most pressing problems."
"Old Blood, I have a different proposition."
"Speak, then. You seem to have a clearer view of the situation."
"You have information on the attack? Is that which you extend to us?"

"The only information I can give you is that it was not perpetrated by any Apocalyptic under my command. But my eyes and ears extend far. I can offer them to you. I would like to know who committed this act as much as you would."

"Then I offer one of two things. First, I shall give you information that I have gleamed from the Underground of great importance to you. Second, we will not call the Spitalians. For now. Guiterrez, can you agree perhaps not to an alliance, but a truce?"

Payne takes a look at Tomas in confusion for a moment, but then regains his cool.

Rodrigo looks straight ahead, then down, "I... suppose I could delay reporting some of these events. But you must realise, this cannot last forever. At the rate this settlement is growing, sooner or later more of us will come, and word will travel back."

Tomas clasps his hands together, "Then we find a resolution with that comes. But this crisis holds us to compromise. Old Blood, is this agreeable?"

"It is agreeable. I'm glad to see a Clanner among you with his head on straight. Our cooperation will ensure Junction is long lasting."

"Now then. Old Blood, my information. Andrej is working against you and Miroslav is helping him."

Payne felt as if a bomb went off somewhere in his brain.

Old Blood raises an eyebrow. "The Vulture?"
"Aye,” Tomas adds, “And he has friends. Many, from how he presents himself. Miroslav knows nothing from what I can tell, and Andrej is the prime ringleader of it all."

Old Blood thinks aloud, "I suppose I should have expected such betrayal. Miroslav is not one of us, he hails from Justitian. And Andrej..." Old Blood smirks. "Typical Andrej." Old Blood looks at Payne. "Is there something on your mind, Payne?"

''Can't help but feel that the exchanged words here are bigger than me.''

Karl smiles as he says, "I know that feeling, at least."

Old Blood draws his gaze to Rodrigo, “Would you all like to solidify this truce?" Tomas looks to Rodrigo as well.

"I have two conditions: One, you do what you can to not let the Burn trade reach the surface. Second, if you do find whoever's behind the attack, don't dismember him into a dozen pieces or whatever it is you people do. I'll have some questions for them."

Old Blood nods, "I can agree to both of those terms. I prefer to keep the Burn in the Underground. It's easier to control. Now, you have a truce. But... If you fetch me Andrej, you'll have my friendship."

"I'm all for cooperation, and but, uh-" Karl fights through his feeling of displacement. Are we not concerned about that monster what came through? I've never known there to just be one of anything, and it was a meaner beast than any grey I've met out in the ash. You've got a lot of people... here, but there's not a town or clan I've come to that didn't need scrap and picks to get by, and if the woods aren't safe, me and mine won't be able to get much."

Old Blood’s brow furrows, “The beast that Mr. Gutierrez and his Hellvetic companion pulled through Junction in the dead of night?"

Tomas wonders how he knew that.

Rodrigo replies, "That one precisely. Best case it's an isolated mutation, worst case we might be dealing with an infestation. So it would be in all our best interest if you could bring any further sightings to the attention of either myself or the Hellvetics."

Old Blood nods, "Best interest for everyone, indeed. Did you find its lair?"

"There was a building that might have served as such, we'll have to give it another visit. I'd strongly caution you against sending anybody in there, for all we know it might be ripe with spores."

"I will take your warning to heart. I will send some of my Battle Crows down the North Tunnel, in case there are any signs of such creatures further in. The tunnels are long and reach far."

Tomas looks about before saying, "I am glad we have talked as human beings, with civility and grace. We have reached something that pleases us all. In the future, I expect great things from further talks. Old Blood, can you perhaps leave us a line to reach you directly if we need to speak with you? It would be great for us to meet in times of crisis quickly, rather than through a bodyguard."

"If you seek me urgently, come to the same doors Nadya brought you to. You will find me in these halls."

"Expedient and efficient. Anything more we have to say, allies?"

Karl looks down, then up. "I'd just want to talk about those books, really."

Old Blood smiles again. "Did they catch your eye?"

"Well, yes! It's hard to find any kind of paper that's all together, and that still has its words. They say a lot, and that, well, I think they're important."

"I've brought them here from Beograd. They are dear to me, as culture is so rare to find these days. Perhaps, if our truce becomes a true alliance, you may read them, too."

Karl smiles. "I'd like that."

"I always appreciate a man of culture and lore."

Tomas smiles beneath his mask. But his wooden face tells no one anything.

"Now, it seems you all have a lot of work to do, as do I. Nadya, would you escort them out? Except for Mr. Gutierrez, I'd like a word in private, if he'll allow." Old Blood says, then looks to Rodrigo.

"If that means we can get on with things..."
"It does."

"The rest of you, follow me." Nadya says, breaking her silence.

Karl stands up, giving a nod to Tomas, waiting to follow behind him and Payne

Tomas gets up, gives a bow to Old Blood, before turning on his heel to follow Nadya.

''I'll wait outside for Rodrigo,” Payne asks, “That alright?''

"That is acceptable,” Nadya answers Payne.

Now Old Blood and Rodrigo are alone in the office. Old Blood's expression is serious, and he leans forward. “As much as you dislike me and my kind, I think we can come to an arrangement that would be beneficial to all of us. You want a healthy settlement. The people want Burn. I don't want to see sepsis take hold any more than you do. It's bad for business, and bad for society. So I propose a deal. If you can supply my flock with EX to distribute, we can reach many Burn users that would not even dare to think of approaching a Spitalian for de-sporing."

Rodrigo stares him down, "You realise of course that EX is not exactly easy to manufacture. I would probably be able to requisition a certain supply, but anything more will by necessity draw the kind of attention you seem so eager to avoid."

"Any amount is beneficial. And I expect, as the first Spitalian in Junction, your status here will rise to a point that you can supply us as need be. Of course, there would be monetary incentive as well."

Rodrigo takes a step back, "No, I will not be peddling valuable medicine for a profit. That said, I'm not entirely opposed to your idea."

"Were I a younger man, I would appreciate your idealism. But I understand it. I would rather make no money on EX than leave the people to Sepsis."

"How about this: I will divert what EX I can to you, but you will not sell it. Instead you will distribute it based on need. First those who are close to turning Leperos, secondly those who seem willing to abandon Burn entirely."

"Agreed. I'm sure you can request routine medical shipments from your Spitalian brethren without attracting a large presence. See what strings you can pull, and I will do my part to make sure the people that need EX get it."

"Just... try to impress on your people that this is not supposed to be an excuse to indulge twice as much as before."

"Of course. Though you do know many of the refugees above buy Burn down here, just to survive the cold nights? When times are harsh and shelter is insufficient, people will do whatever they must to survive. Keep that in mind."
"At any rate, if this is all, I'll take my leave. I think I'm in need of a fresh disinfection."

“Yes, you are dismissed. I will keep you all informed."

Judge is leaning on a wall with his arms crossed, next to Nadya, waiting for Rodrigo. Tomas can tell Payne is not happy. Perhaps with him? Oh well, he made his sacrifices in the name of peace.

"You the pit fighter?" Nadya suddenly asks.
''Yeah.''
"Heard you got roughed up pretty bad."
''I should've picked my fights better.''
"Shouldn't we all?"
''I'm slow to learn from experience.''
"No better teacher than a fist."
''Oh fists've taught me plenty. Those fists're something else.''

"I wouldn't trust her. Honestly, it's surprising you're not dead."

''I don't die easy.'' Judge Payne pokes one of the holes on his coat. ''Still, I figure I'll need those painkillers for a while.''

"The Queen of the Pit's not Balkhani, you know. Not like the most of us." Nadya says. Then at that moment, Rodrigo exits Old Blood's office. "Guess it's time to go. Come on."

Tomas stamps his staff onto the floor as he waits. The metallic idol at the top rattles. "A good, healthy talk I'd say."

''Yeah,” Payne replies bitterly.

Nadya leads them all outside into the North Tunnel again. They're all given their weapons back, as promised, and are free to pursue their interests once again. The Handcar man is waiting to take them back to the main station platform, should they wish. Karl walks up to take his place on the car, determined this time to pay attention to how it works. The Handcar operates via a lever that's pushed up and down. Pure physical effort. It's a more efficient process with two people, but the burly handcar operator does it well enough. Off they go to the south, down the tracks.