Through the muffling glass window a hundred cars are honking. The traffic today is some of the worst you think you've ever seen, and it's not boding well for you or your companion. To your left, Wayne Tepes is laying into your car's horn as well, looking well and truly furious at his faceless competitors on the road. "Come on," he seethes. "Some of us have got flights to make, so hurry it up you yutzes!"

You're trapped on the road about two miles from the airport. You can see planes rising up from the distant runway and tilting off into the clouds even from where you sit. So close, yet so far. There isn't much to be said about the rest of the time you spent packing. You collected a few things from around the church, and Catarina saw you off once more as you made for the hotel. She was thoughtful enough to supply you with four more Black Keys, and scabbards to hold them within. Your air travel record is spotless, and you'd prefer not to cause a panic because of five unsheathed swords in your luggage. You went back to the hotel and grabbed the things you brought from Madrid. You also took the Key there out of hiding; the first one you ever used. For reasons unknown to even you, you've brought it along. It is a gross and revolting memory; you took your first life, human or not, with that blade. It holds no sentimental value to you; if anything you hate its very image.

But then maybe that's why you brought it after all. It's a reminder. You glance in the rear-view mirror of Wayne's tiny car at your suitcase. Your work may be necessary, both for the faith and for finding your father, Hidalgo. The Eighth Sacrament, as Catarina has taught you through the past weeks, may indeed grant you clemency from your crimes, in the eyes of the Lord. But not in your own eyes. What you commit are atrocities, and so long as you have that blade you will not allow yourself to forget that.

The radio is set to the news station. You've tried to put on music a few times, but Wayne keeps silently turning back to this station. After a while you gave up on that mode of entertainment, and now you sit and stew as you wait. You have no clue what caused this traffic jam, but it may take a while; you must amuse yourself in the meantime.

>1. Call Catarina; maybe some idle chat will help pass the time.
>2. Talk to Wayne, or ask him something.
>3. Have Wayne translate what they're saying on the radio.
>4. "Perhaps we could get out and walk?"
>5. Pray.
>6. Get out of the car and see if you can spot what's causing the jam down the way.
>7. Something else.

>>29948336
>1. Call Catarina; maybe some idle chat will help pass the time.

There will be plenty of time to talk to Wayne, lets see if Cat found out anything new about crazy girl that nearly shot us.

>>29948336
5 and 6.
Say a short prayer and get of of the car.

>>29948336
>6. Get out of the car and see if you can spot what's causing the jam down the way.
Praying now would be a bit odd.

>>29948336
>5. Pray.
>6. Get out of the car and see if you can spot what's causing the jam down the way.

>>29948700
Nonsense, there's always time for prayer. Pray while exiting the vehicle.

>>29948668
>>29948700
>>29948740
You offer up a brief prayer to God. It is nothing like a request, merely praise. No more than simple exultation, but no less important or appreciated than some fanciful ceremony. Wayne stops cursing the families of the other drivers long enough to gawk at you while you fiddle with the door locks. "Taking a whiz, Bart?"

"No," you tell him. "I'm going to see if I can get a better look at what's holding us up." He holds one thumb up.

"You do that. I'll stay here and see if I can channel my rage long enough to give somebody around here a nosebleed." His hands are tightly gripped on the wheel as you step outside, taking care not to slam the guard rail with your door. Traffic is packed tight, and you're surrounded by sedans, SUVs, semi trucks, and more. A menagerie of vehicles blocks your way to the airport, and to Munich. The discordant melody they play, made of honking horns, thrumming engines, and Italian swears is grating obnoxiously into your ears. The cars stretch on for quite some way up ahead, and you hop up on the guardrail to get a better look. Best as you can tell, red lights out that way indicate that there's an ambulance on hand. Maybe there was some kind of accident?

>1. Get back in the car and tell Wayne.
>2. Walk that way and get a closer look.
>3. Do something else.

>>29948978
>2. Walk that way and get a closer look.

>>29948978
Let's jog some, we could use the exercise.

>>29948978
>2. Walk that way and get a closer look.

>>29949040
>>29949106
You hop back down and start jogging. Your legs are sore from the training you've been enduring, but this is nothing in comparison to that. You keep to the far side of the road so as not to be flattened by any overeager drivers, and get closer to the lights.

You step past a red truck and into a grisly scene. An ambulance has approached a car that's been run off the road; you see the skid marks where it slid. A blue car is smashed against the guard rail, the majority of its front section flattened. There's red everywhere. The back door of the car is open, and paramedics and police officers are scouring the scene. There is a body laid out on a stretcher as several men bring over something to cover it with.

The crash did irreparable damage to the poor soul's body. Bones are visible in multiple spots, jutting out from where they've been compressed by force. Massive gashes mark the victim's face and neck. Your stomach turns, and you feel very sick.

>1. Go back to the car. You can't bear to see this.
>2. Say a prayer for the deceased.
>3. Approach the body, and see if you can get permission to examine it. Something about those gashes bothers you... (1d100)

>>29949528
>2. Say a prayer for the deceased.

Good excuse to come closer. We are a priest.

Rolled 17

>>29949528
>>29949612
Good thinking, this is Italy, priests can get away with quite a lot. Let's get a look at the scene.

>>29949528
>3
We're currently wearing our frock. We could ask to pray over the body. Hopefully we can get a close look at the deceased as well.

>>29949612
Good idea anon, supported

>>29949612

supporting this.

>>29949612
>>29949684
>>29949714
You force your gut to quiet down, and lock your eyes on the body as a tarp is laid over it. It is nauseating, yes, but it is a person all the same. Or at least it was, and they deserve a prayer to send them on their way. And if you get closer, a second voice in your mind offers, you might be able to get a better look at the wounds.

No. That is not the reason you're doing it. Of that you're certain. But you cannot be too careful, with all that has transpired these past few months. If it wasn't the crash that killed them, then you need to learn what did. And this is the best way to accomplish that.

You step into the gap in the road and approach the carnage. A police officer holds his hand up to stop you, shouting something in Italian. You don't understand him, but the message is quite clear: "You can't be here, get back." But as you come closer he notices your attire, and sees who you are.

"Please, sir, a priest I am," you plead in your broken Italian. "Let me carry on this soul."

He waggles an eyebrow at your terrible grammar, but he has no desire to do anything forceful to a man of the cloth. He pudgy man steps aside and barks something to the other men present, likely telling the not to trouble you. This is good. It will give you the opportunity you need.

As the paramedics leave you kneel down beside the body. But you wobble, as your stomach begins to violently riot against your proximity to this corpse. Catarina's training has done too much, and you can smell every ounce of rot on this body. It pains you to be near it, your body as well as your heart. (Now Nauseous! -1 to rolls.)

You peel back the tarp to get a look at the body. Your brow creases, and sorrow fills you. You cannot even tell if this poor soul was a man or woman, their body has been so thoroughly ravaged in death. "Be at peace, whoever you were," you whisper.

You will only have a little time to conduct a search. The police will likely ask you to leave if you start behaving too suspiciously. As your eyes comb the body, you wonder where you should begin.

>1. Begin with the prayer. Even if you have an ulterior motive for sending this soul on their way, they deserve this much.
>2. Examine the lower body and legs first. (1d100-1)
>3. Examine the torso and the arms. (1d100-1)
>4. Examine the head and neck. (1d100-1)

Rolled 37 - 1

>>29949979
>1. Begin with the prayer. Even if you have an ulterior motive for sending this soul on their way, they deserve this much.
Then
3. Examine the torso and the arms. (1d100-1)

Rolled 49 - 1

>>29949979
Face and neck, that's where the gashes were, that's where we'll see if it was something wicked that caused them.

Rolled 49 - 1

>>29950050
Whoops I have horrible reading comprehension, discount >>29950026

Face and neck for me as well, I still support the prayer beforehand though.

>>29949979
Pray first then
>4

>>29950050
Supporting this, also the most likely place for injury in a car.
Should say the prayer as loud as possible while being sincere.

>>29950026
>>29950110
I've got two rolls here folks, at least one probably won't count so can someone else roll?

>>29949965

>>29950050
Prayer comes first, without question. This was a life, not some tool to be exploited. You fold your hands and bow your head over the body; your prayer is not overdone, but you make no effort to be quiet for the sake of others. You doubt you will be heard either way, as the sounds of the freeway will drown out any sound your lungs could produce. You send the soul on their way to The Lord and pray that Christ shall appeal on their behalf to Him. You wish there was more you could do, but death is beyond what you can mend. And so you begin the dirty work of an Executor. As discretely as you can manage you observe the victim's face and neck. They took grievous injuries, though you cannot guess at whether they came before or after the crash or their death. The neck is the most afflicted area, and it appears to have been shredded by something. Perhaps shrapnel from the crash? You are not sure.

>1. Check the torso and arms next. (1d100-1).
>2. Check the lower body next. (1d100-1).

Rolled 46 - 1

>>29950502
>1. Check the torso and arms next. (1d100-1).

Rolled 87 + 1

>>29950502
1.

>>29950587
Thank you anon, finally above a 50

Rolled 84 - 1

>>29950502
slow night, It's best of 3 so I'll roll again I suppose. Ignore this one if someone else pitches in.

>>29950571
>>29950587
>>29950993

45, 86 and 83. Not bad.

>>29950502
1

>>29951256
Like 'dice+1d100+-1' anon.

Needs to be plus the negative otherwise it just counts as positive for some reason.

>>29950587
Your eye zips down to the corpse's chest. The tattered remnants of a button-down shirt shield what is left from the elements. It would be too much to remove it, and the police would surely be on top of you if you attempted it. But your remaining eye is sharp, and locks down something else: their arms. Ring-like bruises can be spied on the victim's biceps.

Perhaps it was a part of the crash. And yet, you wonder. They look like someone had been gripping the victim, and tightly. Was someone else in that car? Your eye drifts towards the wreck. People are beginning to glance at you. It seems your time with the body is up; gingerly you lower the tarp. Your legs stretch and you stand.

>1. You're done here. Go back to the car.
>2. Try and get a quick look around the crash before you leave. (1d100-1).

Rolled 31 - 1

>>29951365
>2. Try and get a quick look around the crash before you leave. (1d100-1).

>>29951432
You step closer to the wreck, eager to get a better look at it. Why is that back door open? Was there a second body, or was it open when the paramedics arrived? Who left these bruises on the victim's arm. But as you try, you are rebuffed by the officer from before. The goodwill earned from being a priest does not seem to be enough to get you past, and he ignores your protests. With what you think is an assurance that the situation is under their control, he and several others gently but firmly push you away from the car. You would not be able to get closer without force. Force that you are not willing to apply. You turn around, dejected, and begin the walk back to the car...

And then you step in something wet. "Hm?" You lift up your shoe, and you've stepped in red. A puddle of water with wispy bits of blood floating around it. Your throat is dry. Quickly you scan for more blood, and find plenty. There is a dried smear on the guard rail, and you can spy a bit more in the grass leading off of the road. It's heading in the direction of the airport.

...

The door shuts behind you, as Wayne sits patiently. You guess he burned out what little anger can be stored in his body, since now he's merrily whistling along to a song by the J. Geils Band. He pauses as you sit down long enough to ask what the matter was.

>1. [HALF-TRUTH] "There's been a car accident. I don't know how long it will be."
>2. "It was a car crash, but there was something more to it..."

>>29951862
>>2. "It was a car crash, but there was something more to it..."

Rolled 19 - 1

>>29951862
>2. "It was a car crash, but there was something more to it..."

File: 1391296003354.jpg-(46 KB, 538x717, Outer Heaven.jpg)

46 KB JPG

Remember this is what we look like.

Big Boss.

>>29951938
>>29951965
"There's been a car crash," you explain. "At least, that's what is stopping traffic. But I got a chance to examine the body. The victim was mutilated."

Sensing the need for a somber atmosphere, Wayne turns the dial on the radio so that you're not having this conversation with "Centerfold" in the background.

"The wounds were terrible, not like something this crash could have done along. And I found bruises on their arms that suggest a struggle." Wayne tilts his head and grins at you suggestively.

"Do tell."

You point to your shoe's sole. "But the worst I found away from the body. A trail of blood, leading off the road, in the direction of the airport." That seems to set something off in Wayne's head.

"The airport, huh." He sighs and his shoulders shrug in unison with the sound. "So this was foul play, you think. Aw, why is nothing ever easy? Er, you don't think?"

"It very well could be another vampire, yes." Wayne's face tells you he wished you hadn't said that.

He tilts his hat down over his eyes, grimacing. "Great. Just great. Ugh... well. We can't exactly let him get away, can we?" He opens up the driver's side door and steps out.

"I didn't know you were so heroic, Wayne."

"I'm not," he insists, shaking a cigarette out of his pocket. "Basically, if a Dead Apostle--one strong enough to walk in daylight--gets loose in an airport unmolested? It'll delay our flight for at least a few days." You can see his eyes narrowing in disgust. "And I HATE layovers. Now c'mon, Bart, grab your bags. We'll walk the rest of the way, traffic's too slow."

"But, your car?--"

"It's a rental," he assures.

>1. No point arguing. Get moving.
>2. No, you'll stay with the car. Have Wayne head for the airport.
>3. Wayne should stay with the car and your luggage. Grab your gear and head for the airport alone.
>4. You have a different idea.

>>29952395
>1. No point arguing. Get moving.

>Take on a daywalker alone, yea no thanks

>>29952395
>>1. No point arguing. Get moving.

Oh boy. We dealing with powerful DA. When one can walk through the light of the sun, that means it fucking tough.

The DA likely just getting a meal and will leave by the airport.

>>29952395
1. No point in arguing
4. Try and clean your shoe before you go. I'm new to the quest and don't know how strong a sense of smell vampires are supposed to have, but trying to track one down while smelling like fresh blood can't be a good idea.

>>29952395
>1. No point arguing. Get moving.

Grab our gear, it's time to go hunting.

And yeah >>29952861 is right, we shouldn't have blood on us if we can avoid it.

>>29952861
Fair point, I'll support it. Good to have another person around here, it gets too quiet sometimes. Too many people can be toxic but too little can be very limiting

Rolled 61 - 1

>>29952395
Let's get a move-on.

>>29952861
Welcome!

>>29952896
>>29952909
>>29952519
You think that's the best idea you've heard all day. You get out of the car with Wayne and borrow a bottle of water from him. You rip a little bit off of a spare shirt from your luggage and use it as a cloth to wash the blood from your heel. The killer may recognize the scent of its last kill if you aren't careful. Once you're done the both of you depart the highway, its arteries still choked. The suitcase you brought isn't any heavier than a person, but it's unwieldy to drag in rough terrain, forcing you to carry it. Wayne is struggling with his own as well, but doesn't ask for help and doesn't slow you down any. There are a few advantages from this path, though. You've taken a straight shot to the airport, and the airstrip is on the far side. That means it's less likely your approach will be seen. It also means the vampire would have to go through or around the terminals to reach any planes. But you hit a dilemma all the same. You come to a parking lot, filled to the brim with the cars of travelers from all across Italy. You see no one in the maze of metal, so it seems likely the vampire has moved on.

"What do you think, Bart?" asks your companion, surveying the situation with a thumb to his lip. "If we wanted, we could sneak in through a side entrance. Skip security, though we'd be pretty suspicious dragging suitcases around."

"But how else are we getting our weapons through?" you ask.

"Hey, I know a guy." Wayne pushes down with his hands, in a gesture meant to tell you to relax. "I already told you, that part's taken care of. We can pick up our weapons if we go through security. Problem is it'll take longer. Think we can risk it?"

>1. We sneak in. We can't give them even a second more to get distance between us.
>2. It'd be easier if we could avoid hassles with security. We'll go in the front way.

>>29953240
>1. We sneak in. We can't give them even a second more to get distance between us.

I'd rather not risk being unarmed at a bad time. We can always fake working for the airport and doing something with a lost piece of luggage that someone misplaced. Or get by on the goodwill of being a priest, or otherwise talk our way out of it.

>>29953240
>1. We sneak in. We can't give them even a second more to get distance between us.

>>29953385
>>29953402
I'm with these guys.

If we get caught, say something about the bathroom in broken Italian.

>>29953240
Sneaky way.

>>29953385
>>29953402
"We'll sneak in. They could already be gone in the time it takes us to get through security."

"Righty-o, pal. Follow me..."

...

Someone's speaking on the intercom. Crowds of people swarm through the international airport seeking their terminal. You and Wayne stand side-by-side, so far overlooked. The hall is lined by gift shops, restaurants, and coffee chains. The bathrooms are just down the hall.

Wayne cranes his neck up to look around, disgruntled with the state of affairs. "Oh jeez. I kinda forgot that there would be so many PEOPLE here. How would we even pick a vampire out in this crowd... yeesh."

You're beginning to wonder the same thing, and you're starting to get stares. A man in an eyepatch isn't quite the most normal looking fellow.

Someone bumps into your shoulder as they rush by. You hope they didn't feel anything. Beneath your frock you've tied down the Black Keys to your body. Just in case you need weaponry.

"Ay, ay, but where do I even begin here?"

>1. Only one thing to do. Walk around, and look for anyone who might be your man. (1d100)
>2. Ask around for anyone suspicious. (1d100)
>3. SECRET OPTION: They may still smell of blood. Find the stench, and follow it. (1d100+15)
>4. Do something else.

Rolled 69 + 15

>>29954331
>3. SECRET OPTION: They may still smell of blood. Find the stench, and follow it. (1d100+15)

Rolled 15 + 15

>>29954331
>3. SECRET OPTION: They may still smell of blood. Find the stench, and follow it. (1d100+15)

Well, isn't that useful. It should at least help us find the general area to look for him.

Rolled 40 + 15

>>29954331
>3. SECRET OPTION: They may still smell of blood. Find the stench, and follow it. (1d100+15)

Rolled 84 + 15

>>29954331
Snatching a 3rd roll, ignore if another anon rolls

Rolled 100 + 15

>>29954331
>>3. SECRET OPTION: They may still smell of blood. Find the stench, and follow it. (1d100+15)

Rolled 82 + 15

>>29954331

>>29954719
Well not needed, shame it was good.

>>29954427
Your eye shuts, and you block out the world around you. You think you can hear Wayne asking you something, but still you shut him out. A sea of faceless people shift around your body, but you can safely ignore them all. None of them smell right. Your nose sniffs, reaching out into the air for a hint, a clue. The smell you are looking for is one of rot; of metal, and death. The defiled blood of the innocent. There is a vampire lurking in these waves, and you will find him.

A taste. A brief hint of copper in the air. Your head turns, without sight to guide you, and draws you forward. You move into the crowd, slowly and with much hesitation; you take care to avoid bashing into strangers as you move. The smell grows stronger.

Wayne calls to you; you don't hear him, and keep going. The smell is sickening, but it lures you in. They are so close, and you must only search a little further. You turn, and depart from the crowd. You are in a small hallway shooting off from the rest of the airport.

Your eye opens; it's the door to the bathroom. Smart of them, going to wash the scent off. But he must be here. You are certain he is.

But can you face him?

>1. Go in.
>2. Don't go in.
>3. Do something else.

>>29954730
Damn it. A bit to late there anon.

>>29954814
>1. Go in.

but first inform Wayne, silently if possible. I imagine he has good hearing.

>>29954331
Smell-o-vision time.

Also: Note to self, get a glass eye. For when we want to look surreptitious as opposed to imposing.

>>29954814
>1. Go in.

Make sure Wayne is with us. Silently indicate that the vamp is in here.

And we'll want the Cross of Orleans for this, it'll be stabby time.

>>29954814
>3.
Inform Wayne, say a quick prayer then
>1

>>29954843
Glass eye is a good idea

>>29954900
Seconding the prayer beforehand as well

>>29954900
I definitely agree with a prayer. Get the Lord's strength behind us so we can protect our flock against this abomination.

>>29954909
How crazy is our character? Could we get away with packing a false eye with a tiny detonator and some C4? For emergencies.

How great would it be to be taken captive and frisked, only to have a small lump of c4 and a detonator.

>>29955079
We're not exactly crazy but maybe if Cat gifted us something like that we'd use it.

She probably wouldn't tell us it was a bomb, just to throw it when we are in trouble.

>>29954840
>>29954870
>>29954900
You ready yourself; this is not a task you look forward to, for it will be fraught with danger. You will need your sword. You turn to Wayne and ask him--

Your blood runs cold. Wayne is nowhere to be seen. You only walked a short distance; he couldn't have lost you so easily, could he? You open your mouth, and call out for your companion.

"Wayne? Wayne, are you out th--MMMPH!"

The door has shot open, and from it a powerful arm. It snakes around your neck and tugs, greater strength than you've ever felt yanking you off of your feet. You can't even breathe; the powerful stroke has choked you, and cut you off. You try to scream for help, but only gurgling and foam gets through your lips before it is too late. The arm pulls, and you are dragged through.

The door shuts.

>1. Play Interlude.

Rolled 4 + 15

>>29954814
It's Lucien.

>>29955079
better off getting an eye that splits open to reveal a lockpick or small folding knife, or a weapon if we can get one to store itself into a false eye.

>>29955189
>1. Play Interlude.

Well, that didn't quite go as planned.

>>29955189
sucks to be Bartolomè, time for interlude

>>29955229
>>29955233
You are Wayne Tepes, and your friend is crazy.

Not even a minute before, Bartolomè de la Fuente, the unlikely bedfellow you made in the slaying of Klaus Hind, closed his eyes and started snuffling like a pig homing in on truffles. You tried to keep up with him, but he disappeared into the crowd. You shoved your way through dozens of people in search of him.

And boy howdy, did you find him.

Bartolomè burst through the crowd, slamming you to the floor as he ran off in search of... something. "Yo, Bart! Hey Bart, wait up!"

You weave through the crowd as quickly as your legs can take you; but your lungs are on fire. All that smoking a sprinter does not make, and the priest is starting to get away from you.

Damn it, where is he going?! Does he have to shit? The bathroom was back in the other direction! Or maybe he's chasing the vampire. Either way you can't afford to lose him in here. But how are you gonna catch this crazy Spaniard? How?!

>1. "BART! COME ON MAN, WAIT UP!"
>2. Try and run smartly. Find the best route through the crowd to catch up. (1d100-5)
>3. Full tilt! Even if it's murder on your lungs you can't afford to run any slower than him! (1d100+10, Take 1 Wound.)
>4. He can take some hits. Throw a knife to grab his attention. (1d100+10. WILL incite mass panic and alert security.)

Rolled 9 + 10

>>29955984
Arg, what a dilemma. Taking a wound is bad, but losing sight of him and the daywalker is worse, let's go full tilt.

Rolled 62 + 5

>>29955984
>2. Try and run smartly. Find the best route through the crowd to catch up. (1d100-5)

>>29955984
>2. Try and run smartly. Find the best route through the crowd to catch up. (1d100-5)

Rolled 2 - 5

>>29956243
whoops, lets do that right this time

>>29955984

>>29956276
>2-5
NEGATIVES, WAYNE WALKS BACKWARDS!

I haven't seen this quest since like thread one. Good to see it again.

>>29956229
>>29956243
>>29956276
"Oh jeez oh jeez oh jeez." Heavy, painful breaths shake your body as you move. Even this pace is painful, but at least you can keep it up for a time. Sweat comes pouring off your skin, desperate to keep up with your friend as he books it.

As Bartolomè comes up on a turn, he turns right and heads that way. But luck you for you, you spy a shortcut. There's an entrance on this side of the hall to a souvenir shop.

You cut into the shop, strong-arming your way through several people. ""Scuse me, pardon me, comin' through, gimme that!" You slam down a few Euros as you pass the counter, snatching a snazzy keychain for yourself as you head out the opposite door. You've cut down a few precious feet of distance, and continue to run the priest down.

Tide Meter:
You - o - - - Bartolomè

>1. Call for Bart and beg him to slow down.
>2. Keep finding shortcuts. You need to do this intelligently or you'll never catch him. (1d100-5)
>3. Sprint as quickly as your legs will take you. (1d100+10, Take 1 Wound.)
>4. Throw a knife. (1d100+10)
>5. Give up before you wear yourself to death.

Rolled 6 - 5

>>29956706
>2

Rolled 67 + 5

>>29956706
>>2. Keep finding shortcuts. You need to do this intelligently or you'll never catch him. (1d100-5)
Throw a knife? Really?

On Tide:
Sometimes, battles aren't decided by skill rolls and Wounds piling up. Sometimes it's a contest of skill that can't be measured in such a manner. This is where the Tide Meter comes in. The "victory" symbol, the o, lies directly between the two parties in conflict. Every time one party succeeds at something in the struggle, the victory symbol moves closer towards them. Once it reaches the end of the line and hits one party, said party is the victor. The length of the line may vary depending on difficulty.

Rolled 5 - 5

>>29956706
>2. Keep finding shortcuts. You need to do this intelligently or you'll never catch him. (1d100-5)

File: 1391308483741.png-(241 KB, 518x405, What the hell.png)

241 KB PNG

>>29956742
>>29956794
What the fuck is going on

>>29956818
Our superior bloodhound-like senses and exceptionally fit condition are overwhelming the lungs of a smoker in a large crowd.

>>29956778
Oh man, this is getting to be too much. Every step sends a terrible shivering up your legs. Every swing of your arms aches. Every breath is shredding the insides of your lungs. But you can't stop until you catch this crazy bastard. "Hoooooleee-SHIT, Bart, c'mon!"

The priets glances back at you, but keeps running. "What in the..." Did he look scared? Terrified, even. It was like he didn't even recognize you?!"

"What the--HAAH--is going--HAAH--on here?!" you wheeze. This has to end quickly. You swerve around to the far side of the hall, Bartolomè to your right. You can tell now; Bart's avoiding you. You herd him further and further to the right until he's almost hugging the wall. You dash in and reach with your hands, but miss just barely. Another hall branched off, and he went shooting down that way. "Damn it!" you scream, and keep going. But he's closer now. Close, so very close, that slippery little priest...

Tide Meter:
You o - - - - Bartolomè

>1. Play your cards right, and you've got him! (1d100-5)
>2. This is it, maximum sprint! He's too close to let him get away now! (1d100+10, Take 1 Wound.)

Rolled 16 - 5

>>29957596
>1. Play your cards right, and you've got him! (1d100-5)

Rolled 42 - 5

>>29957596
>>1. Play your cards right, and you've got him! (1d100-5)

Rolled 21 - 5

>>29957596

Rolled 9 - 5

>>29957596
>1.

>>29957734
You swear you've run halfway across the airport by now. As your body threatens to shut down on you, your vision begins to darken. Bartolomè the sudden coward is slowly widening the gap between you again as you dart through a food court. If he makes it around this next corner, you're sure you're just going to drop dead, and lose him.

And you can't have that.

"N-no--HAAH--YOU DON'T!"

Your hand reaches up and grabs the brim of your hat, pulling it off and winding it up around your shoulder as you sprint. With a shout you toss it--not at Bart himself, but in front of him, on the floor. Your piece of headwear spins beneath his feet mid-stride, and the holy man's stomps right down on it as he runs. It's too much, and he slips, flying up into the air. Bart lands on his back, and in an instant you've straddled his waist.

Your heart's pounding like a jackhammer, but you're just too exhilarated to notice. Your hands press against his chest to balance yourself as you sputter out, "Wh-what the hell, Bart?!"

Your friend looks at you fearfully... and screams something in Italian.

Your heart stops outright. "What did you say?"

He repeats the phrase. And as your hands press against him, an illusion cracks. The appearance of your "friend" alters into a local man, sweaty and bugging out in sheer terror as he wonders why this strange man has run him down.

Your body is shaking. How, you wonder. How the hell did somebody trick you with an illusion? You have the Circuit Breaker. You're immune to magecraft.

That's only your pride talking. Even mid-freakout you know exactly what has happened. Circuit Breaker can only dispel magic used directly against you. That's why illusions fail against you, because they try to alter your perception of the world.

But this is different. This wasn't an illusion on your senses. The man you were chasing really did look like Bartolomè. His appearance has been altered through some spell, and only contact with you has reverted it. It's a simple trick, but all the same it terrifies you.

Who knew? Who was so intimately familiar with your origin that they could craft an illusion specifically meant to fool you? And if they've gotten you this far away, then where is...

A jolt causes you to stand, reinvigorated by shock and growing dread. "Bart!" you cry out to the crowds. Tourists and strangers balk at you, but nobody answers. You run out from the food court and scream into the hallways, as loud as your ruined lungs can manage. "Bartolomè! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

...

A small hand shoves you to the wall. The tile cracks from the pressure. Your flesh bruises and aches from the hit, and you try not to let it show on your face. You've been winded, being dragged in here so roughly, and you feel helpless. Not just from your physical condition, though. It's from the Dead Apostle before you.

You recognize her quite clearly. You've met her twice before. The second time, you were nearing the supermarket with Catarina. And the first, well, you didn't recognize her then, obviously. You thought she was a man in the harsh lighting. But she was the woman Catarina nearly ran over on your very first night in Naples. And now she's here, taunting you with a seductive smile and blood red eyes. A dexterous tongue laps across her lips, flaking off the dried blood collected at its corners. Her expression is inscrutable, mocking and lewd all at once as the blonde-haired woman examines her prey. You wish to reach for the Black Keys, but your arms feel like they've been frozen in place.

The woman walks closer, swaying her hips as she does. Her arms drape over your shoulders and meet behind your head, pulling it closer to your own. Your foreheads knock.

"I'm glad we can finally be alone." Her chipper tone is not even remotely reassuring, and your face contorts to a grimace of terror, remembering how easily Klaus Hind put his arm through your chest. You begin to get the feeling that this woman could do so much worse to you with even less effort. Sweat is streaming down your skin, and your heart beats erratically as she frowns at you. "Aw, don't be scared. It's just been so long since I last saw you! When I saw you here in this strange place, I knew it was fate! So now that your friend is distracted, we can finally talk. Just you and me..." She leans up to you and whispers in your ear. "Bartolomè de la Fuente..."

That's where we'll be stopping for tonight. I'll be posting on the Twitter soon for the next thread time, potentially tomorrow or Sunday if I'm lucky. Thanks again for playing everyone, and I hope you've enjoyed doing so! If you have any questions direct them to me here or @Frolloswagendir on Twitter.

>>29958396
>>29958458
Goddammit boner stop this nonsense

>>29958458
Goddamned vampires.

>>29958458
Killing me with the cliffy, good thread.

Rolled 82

>>29958482
You're the best Beatta!!