For both the humans and Creations of Church-City, now simply referred to as 'Home', everything changed after the Night of First-Blood. Twelve moons past and the event simply became what everybody began counting from. Today marks the first year since it happened, and the Ghouls, in all of this time, have slowly warmed up to the 7 apostles and yourself, dubbed the Messiah of Creation. You care little for the title, but the energy spent creating a hierarchy and stable society would be all for naught without a leader, and you-- decorated 'war' hero and leader of the Wolves was the unanimously voted candidate. Ragnor wasn't interested in the position-- the way he put it was, "I'd much rather lead others to fight than lead them to work."

As such, he mostly leads reconnaissance and other various missions while you worry about the boring stuff, such as feeding the hundreds of blood-thirsty ghouls, setting up scouting teams and doing fluffy 'moral support' meetings with your apostles. The scouting teams come with information about the surrounding areas and the status of the wildlife and animals in the desert, but you make sure they don't go too far out-- several scouts have been known to just disappear mysteriously.

Your methods can't be called 'moral' by any means, though they are efficient. Perhaps thirty of the least fit humans were spared from being ghoul, and instead were tasked with giving of their blood monthly. The ghouls didn't need more than an ounce per month in addition to other foods, though you found yourself needing much more. The humans gave to the point that they practically were ghouls themselves, but not quite. Too tired to revolt, but too useful to just kill.

Furthermore, you spent time looking through old files in the Zealot-labs, searching for more information on the Professor. What you found wasn't as much as you'd hope, just his name and several of his affiliations. No physical description or photo, just names, affiliations, and several of his experiments.

Still, you're hoping that when you finally crack the computer you'll be able to find more on him. Ragnor thinks it's a long-shot and stopped helping you sort through the files to figure it out, deeming it 'hopeless' and a 'waste of time'. Truth be told, he might have a point-- for all you know, the Professor could have died a while ago.

But there was one conundrum that among the time elapsed that you're all struggling to answer: what happened to the other Zealots? And Gideon?

The desert was periodically searched for any traces of them, but nothing turned up. Several times you've set out to search for Kelso

As much work as you had, you managed to do some more enjoyable things in your 'down time'.
> You stargazing with Cecilia.
"You're starting to lose your hair."

With a loud chuckle, you sift your fingers through your once luxurious head of hair. As you take your hand out of it, white strands fall to the floor. "Ha, I suppose I am. I suppose that's what happens with stress."

Cecilia giggles, snuggling up next to you. For a moment, the two of you marvel at the open sky, unpolluted by light. The stars shines from behind the slowly clearing clouds, a full-moon masked by the gray matter.

"You think it was a good idea to sleep on top of a high roof top?" You ask.

"Well, it's romantic."

"Not really." More laughter. "You know, I still don't get you, Cess."

She gets up, her long blonde hair falling into your face, "What is that supposed to mean, Vamp?"

"You know I'm impotent."

"... Yeah, so? Doesn't mean I can't like you."

Now it's your turn to chuckle. "Of course, but that also means that you can't benefit our race if you stay the nights with me. Probably can't be too fun either."

"Sometimes we don't have to sacrifice of ourselves for others. I like you and I can trust you, and that's all  need, love."

"Ah-huh." You slowly rise up, only for her to grab your hand to sit down with her again. You get closer to her once more, "Alright, so, you got me up here, finally, but as much as I like spending time with you, I think you need to tell me why you wanted to sleep on the roof tonight."

Cecilia turns away, "I need to see something."

"Like what?"

"You'll see."

In awkward silence you wait. As a powerful gust of wind passes, the night sky suddenly brightens slightly-- the full moon  fully exposed. The Wolf gets up from the mattress, only to hop down from the roof and stare intently at the moon.

"Cecilia?" You question, not wanting to upset her. All you know is that she wants to be in her animal-form, but you're not sure why.

Suddenly, your lover begins to tremble, her shoulders jerking spontaneously and her chest rising with heavy breaths. Her body, barely concealed by a night-gown, grows-- thick blonde hair sprouting from every area, her legs becoming thick as tree trunks, claws protruding and her nose extending to a snout. Ugly fangs hang from her mouth and a vicious tongue hangs out as her maw becomes a weapon to be feared.

The demonic beast stares at you and snarls in Cecilia's normal voice, "V-vamp?"

"You can speak in that form?" You ask, shocked.

"Yes." She replies, moving towards you, "I need you to do something for me."

"What?"

"Ghoul me."

"What?"

"I'm serious, my love. Else I wouldn't have already formed for you, rather than abruptly change in the middle of the process. I wish to live longer, like you shall!"

You bring a hand to your brow, "Cecilia, my dear... This isn't necessary, really. You'll be living a long life anyway, as a Creation.

"Cecilia, trust me, you do not want the curse of blood. The necessity eats at your very soul-- it justifies horrible things and--"

"They're not horrible if they can be done with you."

The poor girl... She doesn't get it, does she? She thinks she that being ghouled is a blessing, but it's a curse. The ghouls here, for example; they became sheep to be herded. Even I'd have a companian forever, it also means that my companion won't be herself anymore...
> You become one with Cecilia.
With a weak smile you cautiously approach Cecilia. "Alright, my love. Just remain quiet-- the others are still sleeping." You continue nearing the Wolf, who lowers her giant snout to clumsily lick your face. The slobber and sound gives you a distinct feeling of disgust, but you manage to nuzzle the liquid off your face on Cecilia's fur.

"Are you sure you want this?"

"Oh yes!" Cecilia whispers, her snout forming some sort of smile.

On her command, you sink your teeth into her neck, getting your mouth full of hairs. It takes a while, but you finally manage to slurp enough blood that you feel the 'rush'.  Power, energy, heat; everything connects you further in the moment. Despite her quirks, you've come to appreciate her more than anybody else. After all, she sacrificed most of her ability to feel just so you could savor her blood... No, she said she wished to live for eternity, like myself. To be with me, forever...

You feel the sticky red goo splatter around your lips as the Wol struggles to not howl by pounding the ground around you. Your teeth maintain a strong hold on her neck, for you know that if you release prematurely the Ghouling process would have to be repeated from the beginning. The sweet and sour drink continues to flow down your throat, and before you know it--

Cecilia falls to the ground, naked and in her more human form. You fall upon her, and find yourself unconscious.

You wake back in your quarters, a pale Cecilia in your bed and hugging you tightly. If it were anybody else this might have been an opportunity for debauchery or something naughty, but no-- you're still asleep downstairs. But that doesn't matter.


"You're starting to lose your hair."

With a loud chuckle, you sift your fingers through your once luxurious head of hair. As you take your hand out of it, white strands fall to the floor. "Ha, I suppose I am. I suppose that's what happens with stress."

Cecilia giggles, snuggling up next to you. For a moment, the two of you marvel at the open sky, unpolluted by light. The stars shines from behind the slowly clearing clouds, a full-moon masked by the gray matter.

"You think it was a good idea to sleep on top of a high roof top?" You ask.

"Well, it's romantic."

"Not really." More laughter. "You know, I still don't get you, Cess."

She gets up, her long blonde hair falling into your face, "What is that supposed to mean, Vamp?"

"You know I'm impotent."

"... Yeah, so? Doesn't mean I can't like you."

Now it's your turn to chuckle. "Of course, but that also means that you can't benefit our race if you stay the nights with me. Probably can't be too fun either."

"Sometimes we don't have to sacrifice of ourselves for others. I like you and I can trust you, and that's all  need, love."

"Ah-huh." You slowly rise up, only for her to grab your hand to sit down with her again. You get closer to her once more, "Alright, so, you got me up here, finally, but as much as I like spending time with you, I think you need to tell me why you wanted to sleep on the roof tonight."

Cecilia turns away, "I need to see something."

"Like what?"

"You'll see."

In awkward silence you wait. As a powerful gust of wind passes, the night sky suddenly brightens slightly-- the full moon  fully exposed. The Wolf gets up from the mattress, only to hop down from the roof and stare intently at the moon.

"Cecilia?" You question, not wanting to upset her. All you know is that she wants to be in her animal-form, but you're not sure why.

Suddenly, your lover begins to tremble, her shoulders jerking spontaneously and her chest rising with heavy breaths. Her body, barely concealed by a night-gown, grows-- thick blonde hair sprouting from every area, her legs becoming thick as tree trunks, claws protruding and her nose extending to a snout. Ugly fangs hang from her mouth and a vicious tongue hangs out as her maw becomes a weapon to be feared.

The demonic beast stares at you and snarls in Cecilia's normal voice, "V-vamp?"

"You can speak in that form?" You ask, shocked.

"Yes." She replies, moving towards you, "I need you to do something for me."

"What?"

"Ghoul me."

"What?"

"I'm serious, my love. Else I wouldn't have already formed for you, rather than abruptly change in the middle of the process. I wish to live longer, like you shall!"

You bring a hand to your brow, "Cecilia, my dear... This isn't necessary, really. You'll be living a long life anyway, as a Creation.

"Cecilia, trust me, you do not want the curse of blood. The necessity eats at your very soul-- it justifies horrible things and--"

"They're not horrible if they can be done with you."

The poor girl... She doesn't get it, does she? She thinks she that being ghouled is a blessing, but it's a curse. The ghouls here, for example; they became sheep to be herded. Even I'd have a companian forever, it also means that my companion won't be herself anymore...
> You refuse.
Slowly, you approach the vixen. "Cecilia... No, just no."

It's as if you can see a frown in that huge snout of her's, "Why no? Vamp... I want this, for us. Why not?"

"Because you shouldn't throw your life away for me!" You snap back, standing up to her bulking figure. "Ghoul's are inherently submissive and are forced to drink of other's blood to live. This is not a life for you-- I know you enough to know it isn't."

"Only submissive to our sires," Cecilia murmurs, nuzzling her large cranium to your shoulder. "And I'd be okay with that."

You push her away, slightly. "But I wouldn't be okay with it," you frown, petting her fuzzy chin, "Can you respect that?" Ugh, it's really hard to seem courteous when she looks like this...

Cecilia backs down, "I suppose... I can't force you to do that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it was a miscommunication on both sides. I think. Now, why don't we get some rest together? We have lots of time to look forward to."

You smile and she smiles back.


For both the humans and Creations of Church-City, now simply referred to as 'Home', everything changed after the Night of First-Blood. Twelve moons past and the event simply became what everybody began counting from. Today marks the first year since it happened, and the Ghouls, in all of this time, have slowly warmed up to the 7 apostles and yourself, dubbed the Messiah of Creation. You care little for the title, but the energy spent creating a hierarchy and stable society would be all for naught without a leader, and you-- decorated 'war' hero and leader of the Wolves was the unanimously voted candidate. Ragnor wasn't interested in the position-- the way he put it was, "I'd much rather lead others to fight than lead them to work."

As such, he mostly leads reconnaissance and other various missions while you worry about the boring stuff, such as feeding the hundreds of blood-thirsty ghouls, setting up scouting teams and doing fluffy 'moral support' meetings with your apostles. The scouting teams come with information about the surrounding areas and the status of the wildlife and animals in the desert, but you make sure they don't go too far out-- several scouts have been known to just disappear mysteriously.

Your methods can't be called 'moral' by any means, though they are efficient. Perhaps thirty of the least fit humans were spared from being ghoul, and instead were tasked with giving of their blood monthly. The ghouls didn't need more than an ounce per month in addition to other foods, though you found yourself needing much more. The humans gave to the point that they practically were ghouls themselves, but not quite. Too tired to revolt, but too useful to just kill.

Furthermore, you spent time looking through old files in the Zealot-labs, searching for more information on the Professor. What you found wasn't as much as you'd hope, just his name and several of his affiliations. No physical description or photo, just names, affiliations, and several of his experiments.

Still, you're hoping that when you finally crack the computer you'll be able to find more on him. Ragnor thinks it's a long-shot and stopped helping you sort through the files to figure it out, deeming it 'hopeless' and a 'waste of time'. Truth be told, he might have a point-- for all you know, the Professor could have died a while ago.

But there was one conundrum that among the time elapsed that you're all struggling to answer: what happened to the other Zealots? And Gideon?

The desert was periodically searched for any traces of them, but nothing turned up. Several times you've set out to search for Kelso

As much work as you had, you managed to do some more enjoyable things in your 'down time'.
> You researching about your Creator.
"Alright Ragnor, check the bin in the back. I'll flip through the files in the cabinet."

As Ragnor groans, dropping a metal safe he was trying to punch open and moves to the back. "You know, I still don't get why you're so fixated on it still. You've got quite a bit ahead of you, why not focus on that?"

"Because he still holds the answers to my questions. Like, who I was, et cetera."

"Why not just put it behind you and focus on the present?"

"Because I also need to make sure he doesn't mess with our future."

"You don't think he's dead?"

You shake your head, "Doubt it. Some of the files have already discussed the other Facilities and how the Zealots destroyed all thirteen of them. But I don't think that a man as resourceful and well-funded as the Professor wouldn't set up a back-up Facility. I'd wager that he's trying to do something there too- and we can't have that, can we?"

Ragnor shrugs, "If it makes you happy." He silently sorts through the bin.

With a sigh, you try to remember everything you've collected thus far: the Professor seemed to have thirteen Higher-Creations which eac helped run their specific Facilities, each with their own 'specialty'. From what you can tell, the ones you know are probably Gideon, Kelso, and... God, what was his name, Stein? They must have been the only ones who survived the Facility raids. The rest likely died.

The Professor-- Sion Kurschner, apparently was known to experiment on himself as well as others. No pictures detail him, though it notes that he was of Germanic background, though American-born and raised. A lot of things detailing him are ripped, so it's hard to get anything useful.

You flip through the last folder-- and something catches your eye. Eureka! It's a last sighting report. Apparently he was seen by Zealot scouts about a year ago, before the Church-City raid you ran. They saw a man in a white lab coat circle around the desert, then disappear. They say he went south, where they occasionally heard reports from another City that (used?) to be there. No other reference to that city is made anywhere else, but... This is the best lead we've gotten. Ever.

"Ragnor, take a look at this! In about a week we should be able to send a team in that direction in search of the lost City!"

We'll find you, Simon Kurschner. It's just a matter of time now...


You make your way outside of the building shaken but undeterred. The streets are empty, but you know that there are more humans in the houses, hiding. While the fighting itself may be dying down, you feel the need to go out and meet your courageous brethren, rather than have them come for you. You run down the steps and onto the concrete street, continuing back from where you came from, meanwhile trying to shove away distracting thoughts of your deceased friend. When this is done, we will honor you properly...

Eventually, you begin to notice armored corpses strewn about in awkward positions. Alternatively, you find a brown Wolf, whom you recognize as the Middle-eastern man, white-eyed and bloody by a curb. How many of us were lost this day?

You continue on in solemn silence when you reach the fence, and from beyond it you can see several more Wolven corpses. Frantically, you search for Cecilia-- Phew, none of them are blonde like she was. But still... This leaves perhaps eight of us left... Most likely the last of our kind.

"Vamp!" Comes a cry behind you. You turn around quickly to be hugged by an especially warm Cecilia, with Ragnor smiling with glee. You return the embrace, happiness overcoming the previous thoughts of dread.

"I'm glad to see your alright, man. We had a tough fight, but we fended the hordes of Zealots off. How did your fights go?"

You nod, "We... We killed Tomas and- and a man named Karat, called himself 'Chief'.  Either way, the place was deserted from Zealots by the time I came looking for you."

"Zealots? What about civilians?"

Cecilia joins the interrogation with the question you least wish to answer at this moment, "And where's David?"

"The Father killed him." You answer succinctly, still trying to get your mind off of it-- you don't want anymore nightmares. "I'm going to deal with the civilians soon, Ragnor. I have a plan for them."

Ragnor nods in turn, "Unfortunate, though he died a warrior's death. What shall you do with the civilians?"

"Ghoul them, use them to help rebuild this city. Once this works, we can make an entire civilization of Zealots, and then... Find the Professor and kill the bastard."

"Solid thinking. But what precisely is the next move?"

"Well, where are the surviving Creations?"

"Rampaging. Cecilia here was the only one of the virgins to be able to control their forms."

"Rampaging?"

"Err, yeah." Ragnor replies, confused, "What's the problem?"

"For the plan to work we need as many live humans as possible to rebuild. Ghouls, remember?" Without wasting anymore time, you begin to move back in search of the Wolves when you feel a heavy hand on your shoulder, holding you back.

"Woah there, Vamp. Are you sure you want to stop them? This is the first time they're in actual control of their lives. Plus, they're probably too tired to do any real damage. Just let 'em have their fun, alright?"
> You shrug Ragnor off and run to make sure the chaos is controlled.
With a heavy sigh, you continue on back to the streets of Church-City, Ragnor's hand not strong enough to keep you back. He and Cecilia follow you nonetheless, though in silence. The way back is uneventful, and the howls of the remaining Wolves are distinct enough to follow. Moving as quickly as possible, you follow your ears to and alley-way, where seven Wolves lay, peacefully licking the blood off their coats. You let out a loud sigh of relief after this, thankful that they didn't cause too much havoc after the fight was won and that they're all in one place. Several of them snarl at you but remain reserved enough so Ragnor can give them a fatherly rub on the head, making them relax. And, as they collectively relax, they slowly morph out of their animal-forms and back to their naked, wonderful selves.

This, your family, will be the fathers of a new nation of Creations. A new beginning for your race.


"I'm sorry, David." You state, realizing that Tomas will be killing your ghoul regardless of your choices. With that in mind, you rush the bleeding geezer, hoping to catch him before he can finish off your ghoul. As you thrust your clawed hand at his head, he just barely manages to skewer David.

Never has a killing felt more rewarding. Your hand pierces the fleshy skin-- leaving a flayed face and a collapsed priest. With a grunt, you rush over to David's side, horrified by the gruesome hole in his chest.

You don't really say anything to him, as there is nothing more to say. He fulfilled his duty to you well, and his job, once the City will be taken over, will be easily replaced. But, for now, his death shall allow others of your kind to live. David smiles, and holds your hand firmly. Memories flash of your brief but powerful connection, Oh, and we just were getting close, too...

As David closes his eyes, you stand up, ready to continue your mission-- now, to Zealot HQ. You make your way through the piles of corpses to the front door of the Church, more angry than anything else at this point. By now you recognize that the sirens are still blaring, which means that Zealots should be piling up in the streets-- but the street you see has nobody walking. Though you do hear voices from somewhere far to the left, you can't help but notice that Zealot HQ has its door open.

Am I too late? You wonder, as you make haste by running into the building, looking around for someone to waste your adrenaline on. Inside, you see perhaps three half-dressed Zealots yawning and loitering about, seemingly confident that this is a false alarm.

This means nothing to you, and you rush one-- kick him into a nearby table, deck the other one with a heavy punch, and angrily bite into the last one's hand when he tries to strangle you from behind. It's over in a matter of minutes, but you suddenly feel like you're being... Watched.

"Bravo, Demon." Comes the voice. From across the room you can see a white-armored Zealot, taller and more sizeable than most you've seen. He carries with him a silver sword, less blunt than Tomas's though it doesn't seem to resonate with the same energy. "I see you were able to butcher my friends quickly enough, but somehow I doubt you'll manage to take someone like myself as easily."

"Who're you?" You roar, setting yourself in front of him.

"Zealot Karat, Chief of the Zealots." He grins, "At least, until the real Chief comes home from your clever diversion.

"If." You state, bluffing. I have no idea what happened with Gideon and the other Zealots... "If, he comes back."

Katar doesn't bother answering, and instead positions himself with his silver katana in an aggressive fighting position. Once again, you find yourself in a tactical situation that you need to decide how to approach. You need to be careful about his silver sword and make sure to finish the fight quickly, but he's probably more spry than that bastard, Tomas.
> You fight aggressively, to make sure the fight is ended soon.
Still angered by the death of your friend, you quickly lunge at the man, his mouth still moving. Karat moves out of the way, just in time.

"You're a feisty little demon aren't you?" He laughs, readying his katana to slash. You don't waste a second when you swipe at him again, your claws forming from under the gauntlet. He dodges it again-- and counters, sending a flurry of swipes in your direction. Even though his advancing attacks barely give you enough time to dodge, you try to maintain being on the offensive.

A horizontal slash causes you to crouch, and the next vertical one makes you have to move to the side. Again and again this cycle continues, and you feel as if he might be getting tired. When he begins to slow down even the slightest bit, you add a kick to your crouching, sweeping him off of his feet. He falls over, but not before  a wild swing cuts at your cheek. While only a small amount of pus dribbles out of your cheek. you realize that this marks something worse. Still, you make an attempt to jump onto him, and strangle the bastard to death, but even on the floor Karat manages to use his sword at it's fullest, and this time, his sword is pushed with enough force to pierce your body armor.

On the plus side, you did manage to end the fight relatively quickly.

You have been killed by the hands of the Church.


You continue to stand parallel to the Head-Zealot, slowly beckoning him closer to the side with a ledge. While you know you have to end the fight soon, you also know that this won't be an easy fight. The cackling priest advances, holding his heavy Cross out like a rapier, poking it at you, trying to get you to move back. Deciding that staying on the defensive won't save you from this mad man, you take action by leaping in his direction-- he grins, preparing to simply swing upwards to hit you, but manage to somersault out of the old man's swipe, and land a heavy kick to his face. He staggers backwards, his hand on his eye in a mixture of pain and anger. Tomas angrily sends another swipe with his sword at you, but you're already charging for him, pushing the old to the ledge that is now to your right with your forearm. The priest coughs, but quickly recovers.

Relentless, you send another barrage of jabs at him, moving close enough to him that his long-range won't be an advantage for him. A mixture of punches and claws manage to cut his robe to shreds, and he struggles to get you off of him-- to no avail. After a silly, pointless scuffle you manage to hold him right by the ledge, where a fall to the death would await him. Tomas holds up his silver cross, creating a pseudo-barrier between the two of you, but you just grab hold of it with your gauntlets, and shove him at the wooden slabs, and slowly increase pressure, slowly increase it. Several seconds more of pushing, and he won't have a choice of how his body breaks, as you'll secure his death in the fall. You shove once more...

Snap.

"There we go... See you in hell, bastard!" The wooden splinters open, and you find the two of you tumbling down at several meters, both grasping for eachothers' throats.

Unfortunately for you, the old man barely manages to grab hold of your hair and uses it as leverage to be just slightly above you...

You both fall with a heavy thud, your armored body crashing through the floor. You struggle to get out of it, as you find your armor almost embedded in to the rubble. Still, you manage to get up, and the sharp pang you feel in your head slowly begins to disappear.

As the dust clears, you find a bleeding Tomas with a bloody eye holding an unconscious David to the wall, his silver sword still gripped in his hands. His remaining useable eye stares right at you, and the priest begins to cackle further, "If you take even one more step towards me, I swear I will slay your disciple right now. But, if you leave me here to die in peace, not of a sinners hand, then I can promise that I will not kill him. Hmm, you like this deal?"

Your loyal ghoul stares at you blankly, and his shaking head can either be interpreted as a plea to let him live or to kill the priest. Or perhaps something else?

Stunned and still recovering, you try to make a decision with a clear head...
> You trust in the Priest and continue on to the other building.
"You'll have your own choice of death today, Tomas. But I will honor the deal we made tonight, and I hope, for your sake, that you honor yours."

Father Tomas stares at you with that crazy eye of his, nodding and cocking his head for you to move towards the door before he can release your friend. With an angry sigh, you move past the bloody corpses piled up in the room and hang by the front door.

As David is dropped by the Father, you stand up, ready to continue your mission-- now, to Zealot HQ. David stares at you meekly, trying his best to grunt loudly. You wave to him, expecting him to follow, before opening the front door once again. By now you recognize that the sirens are still blaring, which means that Zealots should be piling up in the streets-- but the street you see has nobody walking. Though you do hear voices from somewhere far to the left, you can't help but notice that Zealot HQ has its door open.

Am I too late? You wonder, as you make haste by running into the building, looking around for someone to waste your adrenaline on. Inside, you see perhaps three half-dressed Zealots yawning and loitering about, seemingly confident that this is a false alarm.

This means nothing to you, and you rush one-- kick him into a nearby table, deck the other one with a heavy punch, and angrily bite into the last one's hand when he tries to strangle you from behind. It's over in a matter of minutes, but you suddenly feel like you're being... Watched.

"Bravo, Demon." Comes the voice. From across the room you can see a white-armored Zealot, taller and more sizeable than most you've seen. He carries with him a silver sword, less blunt than Tomas's though it doesn't seem to resonate with the same energy. "I see you were able to butcher my friends quickly enough, but somehow I doubt you'll manage to take someone like myself as easily."

"Who're you?" You roar, setting yourself in front of him.

"Zealot Karat, Chief of the Zealots." He grins, "At least, until the real Chief comes home from your clever diversion.

"If." You state, bluffing. I have no idea what happened with Gideon and the other Zealots... "If, he comes back."

Katar doesn't bother answering, and instead positions himself with his silver katana in an aggressive fighting position. Once again, you find yourself in a tactical situation that you need to decide how to approach. You need to be careful about his silver sword and make sure to finish the fight quickly, but he's probably more spry than that bastard, Tomas.
> You fight defensively, as to make sure that katana doesn't touch you.
Fueling your rage into reserve energy, to be used when necessary, you plant your feet to the ground, readying yourself for the Zealot.

Karat laughs, lazily letting his sword's tip fall to the ground. The man's bravery (or is it bravado?) astonishes you, "So, you fear God's might?"

"Maybe, but not your's." Comes your sharp answer.

"Then how come you haven't readied yourself to attack? Are you worried you won't make the cut?"

"I'm simply more confident in your ability to leave yourself open, thanks."

Karat shrugs, "Suit yourself, Vampire. Perhaps you shall find fear of God's servant instaed." With that, he raises his silver katana, it gleaming in the neon lights of the building. His stance confirmed, aggressive, he poises to attack. The white Zealot advances, giving a wide and open slash in the air to test you.

Of course, you pass with barely any effort-- just a turn of the neck. Karat laughs once again, and attempts to bum-rush you-- but your defensive stance gives you an advantage, and with clever foot work you grip his wrist, pull, and flip him onto a nearby table. It cracks under the pressure of an armored giant slammed onto it, but the Zealot gets back up and, still gripping his katana, sends a swift vertical cut down at you. You attempt to dodge, but you'd admit that you didn't expect him to get back up so fast, and the slash sticks into your shoulder-armor, just barely missing your skin.

As lucky as you were back there, now Karat has the initiative. He pulls the sword back, grabbing you with it and sending a heavy boot at your stomach. You begin to tip over, but you're sent backwards by a heavy, gauntleted punch to your nose-- which sends you back several feet and onto the ground. Your vision blurs slightly though you manage to get up before Karat manages to land a more accurate cut at your forehead, and manage to grapple him, using the core of your body to push him back. Your nose for some reason still bloodied, you continue to prefer close quarters, where your pinging head won't hamper your vision. Using the anger built up, you manage to grab hold of his helmet with both hands, and squeeze.

The man screams, much like your ghoul did not so long ago. They all do, the humans scream in pain, struggle and kick in their last moments. And as the helmet crumples up and the man goes limp, you embrace your inner demon and drink him dry. The blood is refreshing and your vision clears, but then you notice why his armor is so bright. Must be inlaid with silver...

You shrug. Does it really matter if the Zealots have been inlaying their weapons with silver? The Wolves can take care of themselves...

Regardless, realizing that there aren't any Zealots left in the building, you leave to see how the war is going. Mission Successful. You get up, and stretch, getting ready to make your way to see how the Wolves fared.

Suddenly... "DIE DEMON!" Comes the familiar thundering, though gravely voice.  You hear and feel the heavy thud of a metal beam smashing into your skull. You double over, barely conscious, but you're able to make out the blue robe of the Father, now striped with rust-colored blood in front of you. "While it is saddening to think that you got this far, I am happy to relinquish you of your dark life-force, as I did to the man whom you corrupted. Good night."

You have been killed by the hands of the Church.


"David, finish off these grunts as I find the big man upstairs." You call out, examining the building for the Father's Quarters.

David nods, "Up the stairs, to the left!"

Your head turns from right to left, looking for the set of stairs that will lead you to the Father. Finding the red-carpeted stairs, you begin your ascent, only to be stopped by a heavy-set Monk, who angrily shoves you backwards. "Get away, foul demon!"

He continues pushing, but you catch his left arm, and end squeeze-- Crack. He yells out in pain, and you manage to grab him by the cuff of his robe, only to throw him out of the way and into a wall. You run up the staircase, skipping steps to maintain speed. After reaching the end of the first staircase, you deftly,turn your body, not wasting any time by getting to the adjacent continuation of the stairs. Several leaps later, you reach the end of the stair case, only to be confronted by a terribly old man in a ceremonial blue robe, with a skullcap covering his no doubt balding head. His face is withered, and his frail eyes only compliment an extremely happy demeanor. This, you presume, is Father Tomas.

He stares at you, silent, and raises a large metallic cross from an opening of his robe, though he seems to be holding it the wrong way...

Wary of his silver weapon, you take a step to the side-- giving you room. "Father Tomas, it seems that I have finally had the honor to meet you."

"No, the pleasure is mine, Vampire. Fate has brought it that it is my responsibility to put you down, as well as your canine friends."

You glare at him in anger, and flick at your wrist; claws out, you get into a battle-stance. He, in turn, raises his shimmering Cross, wielding it as a sword.

"I wouldn't put up a fight, if I were you. I know for a fact that you Creations can't heal from a wound of silver, and as such you have no otherworldly advantage over me."

You laugh, "Except perhaps the age part."

The priest stops smiling and instead eyes you angrily, "I suppose you'll learn the hard way." He slowly begins to approach you, his sword, pulsating with some sort of unrecognizable energy, held high. You make a quick examination of your surroundings: the stair case from behind you, doors and other hallways to your right, though several meters forward and to your left is a ledge, where there's an at least three-story drop down to the first floor, where you can see David slowly whittling off the Monks. Perhaps you can use the ledge to your advantage...

You continue to parallel the insane priest, your claws at your side and your wits still intact. You need to make the first move, but how should you go about it? The man looks old, but something about him tells you that he's more than capable of wielding his weapon masterfully. Still, you're probably quicker than him, and a quick fight is all you need. Then again, you need to watch out for the silver sword, because if he gets a solid hit on you then you're done.
> You fight Defensively.
You plant your feet sturdily into the flooring, watching his sword with caution. Whenever he moves closer, you move forward and around him, bringing him closer to the ledge and maintaining an important amount of distance between the two of you. Tomas chuckles, and finally begins swinging his heavy artifact. He does so not wildly, rather with strong, fluid motions; all of which your utmost concentration allow you to just barely dodge. His long strokes give him a lot of range, and you have a feeling that he's only just started.

He picks up the pace, using his heavy sword more like a rapier, thrusting and swiping, attempting to corner you to the other side of the room; that isn't necessarily bad, as it's the side  that has the ledge, but you need to quickly get back in control of the fight if you wish to get the old fool.

Tomas advances, giving another quick thrust with his sword-- you try to take advantage of that by kicking his sword out of his hands, but his firm grip doesn't let go of it. Not wasting the opportunity, you leap at him while he rebalances the sword, and try to land a heavy claw at his neck. Seeing you, the old man, with bizarre agility,  drops to the floor, and sweeps your legs from under you, knocking your head on the rails. You quickly get back up with a sharp twist, but he has enough time to give you a thwack on the back with his sword. The pain stings, and you feel your bones crack as he smacks you upside the head again with it, over an over again. Every time you attempt you get up, you are taken out again by Tomas's repetitive strikes. Can't... Get back up...

Before you know it,

You have been killed by the hands of the Church.


Not wasting any time, you turn to face the Chapel. Metallic and looming over you, with a large neon cross, still flashing. The door is a harsh steel, too old to cast a discernable reflection but maintained enough not to rust nor weaken. "How should we enter, then?"

"No backdoors to the Church. Only one direction if you follow God." David recites from behind you.

With a shrug, you continue onwards, going up a flight of concrete stairs, leading up to the looming steel door. You consider trying to bash the door in, but decide that knocking it and waiting for the door to be opened by whoever's inside would be an easier solution for getting in.

Clang

Your gauntlet taps at the metal. After a pause, you can hear noises on the inside of the Chapel, mostly worried murmuring. You quickly motion for David to go in front, right before a bald young man in ceremonial blue robe opens the door. In response to your ghoul's profile, the man just gapes for several moments before opening his mouth to speak. "Dave?!?"

"No... Not anymore." He states, walking into the Church. The man doesn't seem to even notice you, engrossed in seeing a living ghost instead. Inside, several other monks are gathered, all of them staring at David with awe. You take the opportunity to slink into the shadow, and wait.

"Behold! The blessed Lord brought our child back!" They cry, waving their hands in the air in synchronization. Up and down their hands go, until one with a cowl speaks up, "Brother David, where were you?"

Your ghoul stares at them with disdain, "I got lost, but was found by a group of humans."

They continue to gape. The cowled-one continues his interrogation, "Hmm? More humans, you say?

"Crazy enough, the humans were in our backyard this entire time. We just didn't recognize them."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"The Wolves, Vadim. They're good people."

Gasps erupt, and David's only looks down to his feet, and his hands ball up to fists. "They changed you, didn't they?" The one with the cowl points, and begins to chant in some sort of language which you are unfamiliar with.

Bored of their religious, antics, you make your presence known by jumping out of the shadows, and decking 'Vadim' with a right hook, sending him to the middle of the crowd of twelve-or-so Monks. David nods, and sends a sharp kick to the nearest Zealot surrounding him. Before you know it, it becomes a rowdy brawl of fists.

The monks may be very agile, but without any weapons nor armor you figure you or even David could take them out alone. Something tells you the alarms around the buildings weren't for show either-- you need to find the Father, quick!
> You finish off the remaining monks, then worry about Father Tomas.
Man, these bastards are quick.

You may have gotten lucky with the Vadim fellow, but the rest, now pumping with adrenaline, are much harder to hit. The bald men may not be especially strong, but they're skilled enough that they can at least dodge and block your powerful claws and punches. Of course, they're bound to get tired after a minute or so of constant movement, but I need to get this done quickly.

"Oof." One grunts as you land a knee into his groin, he stumbles to your side, where a heavy-set Monk elbows at your ribs-- only to miss and be targeted by David, who was unsuccessfully trying to down a midget of a Zealot. Your ghoul manages to leap atop of him and .wrap his arms around the man's neck.

"What... happened.... to you... my.... friend..." Are his last words.

The remaining monks still take up your time, giving quick jabs to your non-existent pressure points as you try to land a hit on them. The acrobats continue dodging, and you relentlessly continue, not hampered by mortal energy-consumption. They begin to slow, and your wild, badly-timed swings catch several of the surrounding monks, crushing their bones easily. Minutes passed, the only one standing is the sweating midget named, 'Miguel', who hopelessly kneels before you, "O how the lord has bested us, taught us a lesson in humility in dream-form, he did. Wake us from this nightmare, O merciful God!"

You punt him across the room, cackling as you do so.

Unfortunately for yourself and David, you can hear sirens-- Ragnor has begun his siege. You look from around you, and in front of you appears a pruned old man, wearing a ceremonial blue robe and a skullcap, wielding a shining... silver cross? Only, upside-down... As a sword... Father Tomas stares at you with a surprisingly serene smile, considering what you did with his disciples. "My monks did their part, do not worry, Vampire."

Moments later, the old man throws his heavy rod with unreal accuracy and force, impaling your belly and opening it, spilling some gastric juices, but that's all. You feel your body convulsing as the holy metals sucks at your life force. You groan in pain, and kneel before the lord...

If only you finished this man earlier.

You have been killed by the hands of the Church.


The strobe light aimed back to its original place and the Zealot downed by his own, you and David make your way to the barb-wire fence, and easily leap above it, too lazy to get the key from the Zealot. After David turns off his blinkers, you begin to pay more attention to the City only to realize that, from the inside at least, it isn't nearly as bustling as you thought it was. Perhaps that's because most of them went to raid the hideout. Gideon is still there...

You shake your head; you tried your best with that fool, now it's time to take what's yours; what the Creations deserve regardless of what the Church or the Professor think of them. Not weapons, not demons: just people. David waits for you to start walking again, tapping his foot eagerly. He doesn't speak much, but you can tell he enjoyed his time with the Wolves. Still, you'll always wonder what's inside his head, now as a ghoul.  You continue through the ghost-town, which for whatever reason has all of it's buildings rigged with neon lights, flashing. David leads you through the ugly urban landscape, and you keep a lookout for humans. Suddenly, you spot one, walking out of some sort of pub, walking unsteadily. You grab David by the cuff of his armor and quickly hide in the shadow of some sort of looming dumpster. With a finger to your lips, you wait until the man's back is turned before you sneak up on him, digging claws into his neck for a quick and silent death. The man falls to the ground dead, and you lick your bloody nails. David, unfazed, comes out of the shadows only to pick up the man, and silently position him into the trash. "That pub holds a great deal of Zealots. We need to move out before they see me."

You nod in return. At first you considered just going in and slaughtering the gathering of Zealots, but then realized that the light-weights Ragnor and his crew could handle, but the higher-ups are going to be an issue. David once again takes lead, and you prowl the streets, silently killing anything in your way, passing by buildings of all shapes and sizes, though most not even occupied.

Two buildings in particular stand out, however: one mansion with a giant blue Cross above the door; the other large and rectangular with an upside-down Cross, for whatever reason.You'd look through the windows to see what's going on inside, but the windows of both buildings seem to just reflect your own image, though you can only really discern your armor since your pale profile doesn't come out well in the reflection.

"The one with the holy-sword is Zealot-headquarters, the other one is the Chapel." David answers your thoughts, smiling at you. "I think it's in our best interest to enter and clear out both."

"Which do you suggest to do first?"

"Either one, sir. We need to kill Father Tomas and the Chief, both in their respective buildings. The Zealots who aren't on their way to the stronghold will be in both, though. But whichever we pick, we need to do it quick; Ragnor and the others will be making their move any moment now."
> You enter the Zealot HQ.
As you warily near the steel entrance to the Zealot headquarters, David taps on your shoulder, silently beckoning you to follow him. You comply, and follow your ghoul to around the building, where, after going up several flights of metal stairs (making as little noise as possible), you find a molding wooden door, a nice change from the ugly metal and concrete which make up the rest of the City. Of course, aside from giving you a vague feeling of deja vu, it's also gives you an easy opening. David motions toward it. Now let's make some noise.

You remain careful in your last moments of anonymity, you try the golden knob- locked. Not wanting to jam it accidentally, you settle for setting up a roundhouse kick-- you twist your body, hold for a forceful kick, and push.

The power of your kick rips at the wood, leaving a splintered hole in the door's midsection, big enough for you to swiftly roll under-- David following. Inside, you find several Zealots playing cards around a round table. They are visibly stunned, and gape at you and your ghoul.

"David?" One asks, jumping up from their seat. Not cutting them any lack, you run at the Zealot, decking him to the floor with a solid punch. David takes on another, kicking him from the side, toppling him and his metal chair over. With only two left, you quickly claw at the one holding his hands up, splashing the table with his blood. With your claws entrenched in the Zealot neck, you fling him at the other the one. He flies, and with another clang the other one catches him, only to topple over as well. You quickly finish off any of them even barely conscious, clawing at their throats for edible parts. After grazing, you begin to hear footsteps. Can't waste time.

"Where's the chief?" You roar, energized from the scuffle. David eyes bounce from each of the three doors connecting to other parts of the building, struggling to remember.

"I'm the 'Chief', demonspawn." The door to the right opens, and there stands a tall, unusually garbed Zealot. Like most, he's tall, easily more than six feet and with navy blue armor with yellow lining, rather than the customary black and blue. He wears no mask, though his neck seems to be heavily guarded. Smart, but useless in my current state. "Vampire, we knew you'd come, but we didn't expect you to corrupt one of our own," he glares at David, and readies a gleaming silver sword, "Nor for you to attack us when we least expect it. But no matter, you both will die where you stand, for you deserve no mercy in this world."

Your ghoul points at him, "Yes, that's Katar, we need to be careful with him though..." You nod, wondering how the best way to approach the enemy would be.
> You angrily lash out at him as Kelso taught you; end the fight quickly.
Barely letting him finish his speech, you lunge-- bringing the heel of your palm down near his jaw, only for him to deftly dodge out of the way. He shuffles several meters to the right, and raises his sword. He points at you, "By God's glory, the dead will stay dead tonight." Quickly, he swipes with his blade, you dodging it by as little as a hair. You continue to bend your spine in ways you never imagined you could, but remain on the offensive by clawing at him at every chance you have.

You send a kick at his shin-- causing his knees to bend, and  charge him with all your body force, screeching and yelling like a cat. You lay on top of him, and begin mercilessly pounding his bearded face, before he manages to separate you and him just by his sword-- which you angrily rip out of his grip, only for it to clumsily flip and cut into your forehead. He takes advantage of this and kicks you off, coughing out blood and quickly running for his sword. You try to reach for it, to no avail. David, now certain you need his help, jumps on Katar's back, trying to strangle the elite Zealot. Even with David on his back, he's able to stab you with his sword while you're still baffled as to why you're not regenerating your wounds properly. The cold steel hacks at your bones, and you begin crying out in pain while the holy man continues to mock you. Once you're incapacitated, the now ear-less Karat flings David off of him, and beheads him in front of you, the glum expression ever-present on your ghoul's head. He doesn't even need to finish you off, and you feel your energy being drained out.

On the plus side, you did manage to end the fight relatively quickly.

You have been killed by the hands of the Church.


As you warily near the steel entrance to the Zealot headquarters, David taps on your shoulder, silently beckoning you to follow him. You comply, and follow your ghoul to around the building, where, after going up several flights of metal stairs (making as little noise as possible), you find a molding wooden door, a nice change from the ugly metal and concrete which make up the rest of the City. Of course, aside from giving you a vague feeling of deja vu, it's also gives you an easy opening. David motions toward it. Now let's make some noise.

You remain careful in your last moments of anonymity, you try the golden knob- locked. Not wanting to jam it accidentally, you settle for setting up a roundhouse kick-- you twist your body, hold for a forceful kick, and push.

The power of your kick rips at the wood, leaving a splintered hole in the door's midsection, big enough for you to swiftly roll under-- David following. Inside, you find several Zealots playing cards around a round table. They are visibly stunned, and gape at you and your ghoul.

"David?" One asks, jumping up from their seat. Not cutting them any lack, you run at the Zealot, decking him to the floor with a solid punch. David takes on another, kicking him from the side, toppling him and his metal chair over. With only two left, you quickly claw at the one holding his hands up, splashing the table with his blood. With your claws entrenched in the Zealot neck, you fling him at the other the one. He flies, and with another clang the other one catches him, only to topple over as well. You quickly finish off any of them even barely conscious, clawing at their throats for edible parts. After grazing, you begin to hear footsteps. Can't waste time.

"Where's the chief?" You roar, energized from the scuffle. David eyes bounce from each of the three doors connecting to other parts of the building, struggling to remember.

"I'm the 'Chief', demonspawn." The door to the right opens, and there stands a tall, unusually garbed Zealot. Like most, he's tall, easily more than six feet and with navy blue armor with yellow lining, rather than the customary black and blue. He wears no mask, though his neck seems to be heavily guarded. Smart, but useless in my current state. "Vampire, we knew you'd come, but we didn't expect you to corrupt one of our own," he glares at David, and readies a gleaming silver sword, "Nor for you to attack us when we least expect it. But no matter, you both will die where you stand, for you deserve no mercy in this world."

Your ghoul points at him, "Yes, that's Katar, we need to be careful with him though..." You nod, wondering how the best way to approach the enemy would be.
> You might have to be defensive, that sword doesn't look too friendly.
David watches, sure in your chances and not wanting to get in your way while you set up a defensive stance, planting your feet to the ground and readying your hands at the sides. Katar, parallel to you, closes the door behind him, and then raises his sword, pointing it at you. "So, you fear God?"

"Not in yours." You laugh back, maintaining composure. He's trying to get me off-guard, that's what this mad-man wants.

"Then perhaps you find fear in his servants instead, fool. Why else would you not attack me before I ready my blade? Katar slowly approaches you, his long sword only a quick-thrust away from your armored chest.

You don't feel the need to respond, instead focusing on his blade. You remember Kelso mentioning to you that you won't regenerate from silver-caused cuts, making this the most dangerous fight you've been in, yet. You can only hope that after you survive this, you can make sure the Church doesn't have too much silver lying about. They probably have some idea of whether it works or not, otherwise Katar wouldn't have a silver katana.

The aloof Zealot chuckles, "Then this will be an easy fight." He holds his sword with both hands, winds up, and swings it at your midsection, expecting you to duck and die. Thankfully, you saw through the ruse, and sidestep, only to slam the sword with your gauntlet out of Karat's hands. Angrily, he punches at you, sending a gauntleted fist at your nose. You get pushed back, but feel alright after rubbing it with your metal-covered wrist. You send a boot at the man's shins, making his knees bend, giving you perfect reach for swinging at his head. You feel his skull from under his skin after the blow, and the Zealot is pushed several meters away-- right next to his sword! Even though Karat is coughing blood, he gets up, using the sword as a cane.

"COME AT ME, DEMON!" The bearded man yells, raising his word once more.

You shake your head, not falling for it. He angrily charges for you, only to be sucker-punched and knocked out before he could swing.

You stare at the man, then spit. "This pathetic being is the Chief?"

"Second in command, actually. Chief is probably fighting Gideon right now. But really, I don't think you realize how close you were to dying back there."

"Huh?"

David touches at your nose, "I think his gauntlet is partly silver, so I don't think you're nose will fix itself."

Both of you laugh. If the worst thing that happens to us is that we get broken noses, then we're doing pretty good. "So what now?"

"Well, before the rest of the Zealots appear, we should probably try to kill Father Tomas, in the Church. Or, we could clear out this building while we--"

"It's not a question, we finish the mission. Ragnor and the rest can take care of themselves."

At that very moment, sirens begin to blare, and red lights beam on-and-off all over the HQ...
> You continue to the Church.
With the alarms already blaring you make sure not to waste time in getting out of the building and into the Church. Outside, swarms of Zealots are coming out of the Church's front doors, obviously en route to fight Ragnor and his Wolves. You and David mostly blend in enough to not be recognized as anything but Zealots and manage to swim past the incoming horde and through the next street, then up the concrete steps of the Church and right in front of the Chapel's gates..

"How should we enter, then?"

"No backdoors to the Church. Only one direction if you follow God." David recites from behind you.

You consider trying to bash the door in, but decide that knocking it and waiting for the door to be opened by whoever's inside would be an easier solution for getting in.

Clang

Your gauntlet taps at the metal. After a pause, you can hear noises on the inside of the Chapel, mostly worried murmuring. You quickly motion for David to go in front, right before a bald young man in ceremonial blue robe opens the door. In response to your ghoul's profile, the man just gapes for several moments before opening his mouth to speak. "Dave?!?"

"No... Not anymore." He states, walking into the Church. The man doesn't seem to even notice you, engrossed in seeing a living ghost instead. Inside, several other monks are gathered, all of them staring at David with awe. You take the opportunity to slink into the shadow, and wait.

"Behold! The blessed Lord brought our child back!" They cry, waving their hands in the air in synchronization. Up and down their hands go, until one with a cowl speaks up, "Brother David, where were you?"

Your ghoul stares at them with disdain, "I got lost, but was found by a group of humans."

They continue to gape. The cowled-one continues his interrogation, "Hmm? More humans, you say?

"Crazy enough, the humans were in our backyard this entire time. We just didn't recognize them."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"The Wolves, Vadim. They're good people."

Gasps erupt, and David's only looks down to his feet, and his hands ball up to fists. "They changed you, didn't they?" The one with the cowl points, and begins to chant in some sort of language which you are unfamiliar with.

Bored of their religious, antics, you make your presence known by jumping out of the shadows, and decking 'Vadim' with a right hook, sending him to the middle of the crowd of twelve-or-so Monks. David nods, and sends a sharp kick to the nearest Zealot surrounding him. Before you know it, it becomes a rowdy brawl of fists.

The monks may be very agile, but without any weapons nor armor you figure you or even David could take them out alone.


As you warily near the steel entrance to the Zealot headquarters, David taps on your shoulder, silently beckoning you to follow him. You comply, and follow your ghoul to around the building, where, after going up several flights of metal stairs (making as little noise as possible), you find a molding wooden door, a nice change from the ugly metal and concrete which make up the rest of the City. Of course, aside from giving you a vague feeling of deja vu, it's also gives you an easy opening. David motions toward it. Now let's make some noise.

You remain careful in your last moments of anonymity, you try the golden knob- locked. Not wanting to jam it accidentally, you settle for setting up a roundhouse kick-- you twist your body, hold for a forceful kick, and push.

The power of your kick rips at the wood, leaving a splintered hole in the door's midsection, big enough for you to swiftly roll under-- David following. Inside, you find several Zealots playing cards around a round table. They are visibly stunned, and gape at you and your ghoul.

"David?" One asks, jumping up from their seat. Not cutting them any lack, you run at the Zealot, decking him to the floor with a solid punch. David takes on another, kicking him from the side, toppling him and his metal chair over. With only two left, you quickly claw at the one holding his hands up, splashing the table with his blood. With your claws entrenched in the Zealot neck, you fling him at the other the one. He flies, and with another clang the other one catches him, only to topple over as well. You quickly finish off any of them even barely conscious, clawing at their throats for edible parts. After grazing, you begin to hear footsteps. Can't waste time.

"Where's the chief?" You roar, energized from the scuffle. David eyes bounce from each of the three doors connecting to other parts of the building, struggling to remember.

"I'm the 'Chief', demonspawn." The door to the right opens, and there stands a tall, unusually garbed Zealot. Like most, he's tall, easily more than six feet and with navy blue armor with yellow lining, rather than the customary black and blue. He wears no mask, though his neck seems to be heavily guarded. Smart, but useless in my current state. "Vampire, we knew you'd come, but we didn't expect you to corrupt one of our own," he glares at David, and readies a gleaming silver sword, "Nor for you to attack us when we least expect it. But no matter, you both will die where you stand, for you deserve no mercy in this world."

Your ghoul points at him, "Yes, that's Katar, we need to be careful with him though..." You nod, wondering how the best way to approach the enemy would be.
> You say "We come in, uh, peace?"
You raise your hands in surrender, though still maintain a defensive composure. "Listen, Katar, I have no interest in fighting you. We can settle this dispute with less blood if you could listen to me."

"I wonder if you gave them," he eyes the corpses in the room, "the same offer."

"They have no authority in the Church, and the only way to make us stop peacefully is to comply with our demands."

"We don't negotiate with terrorists," he smirks, though you feel as if he's telling you to continue.

"You need to let us live alongside you and the other humans in this city, and we promise we won't hurt you unless you persecute us. Simple, right?"

"There is no rest for the wicked." He states, drawing his sword. Well, that didn't help.

David just watches, seemingly sure in your chances and not wanting to get in your way while you fight. You set up a defensive stance, planting your feet to the ground and readying your hands at the sides. He, parallel to you, closes the door behind him, and then raises his sword, pointing it at you. "So, you fear God?"

"Not in yours." You laugh back, maintaining composure. He's trying to get me off-guard, that's what this mad-man wants.

"Then perhaps you find fear in his servants instead, fool. Why else would you not attack me before I ready my blade? Katar slowly approaches you, his long sword only a lunge away from your armored chest.

You don't feel the need to respond, instead focusing on his blade. You remember Kelso mentioning to you that you won't regenerate from silver-caused cuts, making this the most dangerous fight you've been in, yet. You can only hope that after you survive this, you can make sure the Church doesn't have too much silver lying about. They probably have some idea of whether it works or not, otherwise Katar wouldn't have a silver katana.

The aloof Zealot chuckles, "Then this will be an easy fight." He holds his sword with both hands, winds up, and swings it at your midsection, expecting you to duck and die. Thankfully, you saw through the ruse, and sidestep, only to slam the sword with your gauntlet out of Karat's hands. Angrily, he punches at you, sending a gauntleted fist at your nose. You get pushed back, but feel alright after rubbing it with your metal-covered wrist. You send a boot at the man's shins, making his knees bend, giving you perfect reach for swinging at his head. You feel his skull from under his skin after the blow, and the Zealot is pushed several meters away-- right next to his sword! Even though Karat is coughing blood, he gets up, using the sword as a cane.

"COME AT ME, DEMON!" The bearded man yells, raising his word once more.

You shake your head, not falling for it. He angrily charges for you, only to be sucker-punched and knocked out before he could swing.

You stare at the man, then spit. "This pathetic being is the Chief?"

"Second in command, actually. Chief is probably fighting Gideon right now. But really, I don't think you realize how close you were to dying back there."

"Huh?"

David touches at your nose, "I think his gauntlet is partly silver, so I don't think you're nose will fix itself."

Both of you laugh. If the worst thing that happens to us is that we get broken noses, then we're doing pretty good. "So what now?"

"Well, before the rest of the Zealots appear, we should probably try to kill Father Tomas, in the Church. Or, we could clear out this building while we--"

"No, we need to finish our mission. The others will be able to deal with the remaining Zealots, easy."

At that very moment, sirens begin to blare, and red lights beam on-and-off all over the HQ...


"I... Think Ragnor has a solid point. We can definitely beat the Zealots as long as we have the element of surprise. And if this goes well, then we won't have to worry about extinction ever again."

The blonde vixen looks up to you, as do most of the Wolves. Ragnor laughs, and pats you on the back. Gideon, on the other hand, merely frowns, closes his eyes, and announces, "Right. Welcome to the family, Vampy. I'd rest, we're all practically nocturnal here anyhow.

The cloaked Ragnor frowns, "Are you sure? I was just about to bring out the alcohol..."

"No alcohol, Ragnor. We have a long night tonight, lots of training we need to go through. I don't think some of us here have actually fought Zealots."

Ragnor nods, and the rest of the Wolves shuffle back to their blankets. Gideon shuts the lantern off, and heads down the hatch, disappearing after a thud.

Meanwhile, you find a piece of concrete that is comfortable enough to meditate on, and begin to close your eyes... Only to realize that all the Wolves are watching you for some reason. They're all smiling, and the pretty one in particular seems to watch you in the dark of day. At some point during the night, she leans towards you to whispers, "Hi, I'm Cecilia." She giggles.

"Uh, hi." You whisper back lamely.

The next couple of days fly by, and you manage to go over the histories of your new friends, as well as prepare them for the fight.
> You training (Optional)
You have talked with Ragnor at length on how you'll be running your operation on the City. What you both want to do is extremely difficult, even with the combined power of all the Wolves. The only chance you have is if the less-experienced Wolves learn from the best-- Gideon, Ragnor, and you. Not necessarily in that order either, since you have no idea what a werewolf is capable in full-form, nor do you know how you rank between them or even how they rank between each-other. Gideon is terrifyingly muscular, but Ragnor seems to be much faster. Any sparring matches you've had with either seemed to be somewhat held-back, for whatever reason.

Still, the main plan appears to be that, after some hand-picked scouts tell you three when the Zealots are coming, silently break through one of the cities defenses, and drop you in. While you cause mayhem inside the streets of the City, Gideon and Ragnor's two groups will be pushing through the City's walls, and fighting from in there. Supposedly the head of Church is an old man who runs the whole shebang, a certain, 'Father Tomas'. Once you kill him, the Church will be extremely vulnerable. After that? Well, you just hope the humans don't continue resisting, otherwise it'll be a slaughter.

Although you're going in by yourself (and maybe David, for ironic reasons), you're still tasked to help train the other Creations with Ragnor and Gideon. Over the days, what was probably most exciting' (aside from the shock of lovely Cecilia turning into a hulking were-wolf) part was your sparring match with Gideon. You can't help but feel both of you held back, however slightly, but it was likely of great education value to the other Creations.

"Alright Vampy, give it all you got."

Ha, worry about yourself.

You stand, parallel to Gideon, in a surprisingly flat part of the desert. The other Creations surround you both stripped down to nothing but basic shirt and pants, readying yourselves for an honest fight. As ugly of a creature Gideon is, he really is a mellow guy, which makes you almost not want to get into any scuffle with him, even if it's ust sparring. Still, you ready yourself to attack. You flick out your wrist, causing claws to edge out. The crescent moon lies above you both, and the hunchback chuckles as he slowly moves toward you, shuffling one foot through the sand at a time. You took your time as well, starting with a brisk walk, turning that momentum into a jog, then using that into all-out sprinting...

Gideon suddenly stops, and holds his hands out to block your advancing. When you reach him, you bring a clawed hand down, hoping to catch his shoulder; you succeed, though he remains unfazed, grabbing at your ankles while you deftly try to flip over him; that doesn't work. His palms squeeze at your feet, and he slams you onto the sand, using his weight to force you down. Thankfully, the rush of adrenaline, allows you to overpower him, throwing him off you. Once again parallel, he decides it's hsi turn to claw at you and he aims a long-winded at your gut-- your body twists, barely letting it hit, though allowing you to bring your elbow down to his neck.

He falls to the floor with a slump, though seems to quickly recover by holding you by his feet. You fall down as well, though you catch yourself with a roll, and get right back up. Gideon, however, gets up as Gideon no longer.

It was the first time you saw Gideon in his were-form. Massive, with a snout longer than an arm, silvery fangs almost as large as the L-bayonet itself, and white fur overlaying his entire body. You've seen other werewolves turn, but it's obvious why Gideon is the alpha-wolf around here. While you marvel at the werewolf, he sends a massive fist to crash down on you-- but you quickly jump out of the way. Unsure what you can do, you turn to your own fangs; they aren't nearly as powerful as his, but they have other uses other than killing. Gideon continuously deals out attacks, and you manage to dodge nearly all of them, only a couple giving you scrapes. The Wolf leaps at you, waving all of it's bulking appendages in your direction. As it nears closer to you, you see an opening...

You took a leap of faith, catching Gideon in the neck with your own fangs. It was only the next morning when you woke, moved to the hideout once more.

"That was an epic fight." One of the teen-wolves say, glaring at you in awe. Gideon was to the side of your bed, sitting up and laughing.

"Very good, Vampy. Nice use of your abilities, those fangs exhaust people way easy, even those pumped up on canine-adrenaline. Crazy effective. You hear that, Wolves? Someone who knows the full-outset of their abilities is a dangerous fellow."

And that's how you remember it. Even though Gideon helped train the Wolves to fight, you worry about him. He doesn't seem too enthusiastic about taking over the city. Hopefully he changes his mind soon...


"I... Think Ragnor has a solid point. We can definitely beat the Zealots as long as we have the element of surprise. And if this goes well, then we won't have to worry about extinction ever again."

The blonde vixen looks up to you, as do most of the Wolves. Ragnor laughs, and pats you on the back. Gideon, on the other hand, merely frowns, closes his eyes, and announces, "Right. Welcome to the family, Vampy. I'd rest, we're all practically nocturnal here anyhow.

The cloaked Ragnor frowns, "Are you sure? I was just about to bring out the alcohol..."

"No alcohol, Ragnor. We have a long night tonight, lots of training we need to go through. I don't think some of us here have actually fought Zealots."

Ragnor nods, and the rest of the Wolves shuffle back to their blankets. Gideon shuts the lantern off, and heads down the hatch, disappearing after a thud.

Meanwhile, you find a piece of concrete that is comfortable enough to meditate on, and begin to close your eyes... Only to realize that all the Wolves are watching you for some reason. They're all smiling, and the pretty one in particular seems to watch you in the dark of day. At some point during the night, she leans towards you to whispers, "Hi, I'm Cecilia." She giggles.

"Uh, hi." You whisper back lamely.

The next couple of days fly by, and you manage to go over the histories of your new friends, as well as prepare them for the fight.
> You ragnor's tale.
"Hey Vamp, take a seat." Ragnor calls out, waving you over to the off-kilter wooden bench he's sitting on. You comply; after several days and nights with barely any breaks, even sitting down to converse with the balding man who broke your Ghoul's neck sounds appealing. Plus, he can't exactly complain about not getting work done if he's taking a breather as well. If there's one thing you know about Ragnor, it's that he hates the Church more than anything. Except maybe the Professor; you've never really talked with him that much, after all. The cloaked man smiles at you, and helps sit you down with a heavy hand clutching onto your shoulder. "Hey man, I'm really glad you joined us," he begins, taking his arm off of you and bringing it in front for a handshake; you respond in kind.

"Not as glad as I am to have joined." You laugh, releasing.

"Don't be so sure. It was getting rather stale, just hiding out in a bunker until we run out of food. You've given us something to strive for."

"Fighting the Church?"

"Yeah." He nods, pauses, then shows out his palms to you in a waving motion, "I know, I know. Gideon's not exactly fond of it, but if it comes down to us and them, I vote us." Ragnor laughs. "You know, the moment you said that the Church is planning to destroy us, I already was planning on trying to overthrow the city."

"You seemed very confident about it." You nod, rubbing at your chin, "But why?"

"So that we have a stronghold strong enough that we won't be able to be exterminated that easily. We're a small group, the Creations. And it's not exactly a growing population either, at best you can ghoul whatever, but we can't breed normally. It takes more time for it to work, you know..."

You raise an eyebrow, amused, "You've tried?"

"Ha, back when I was practically mind-controlled by the Professor, yeah. Heck, he probably tried things with you while you were unconscious, but who knows? Life before civilization fell was much different than now. The bastard wanted to create a new specie of man, and instead he got Hollywood monsters with bad skin conditions." He shrugs, "But in some ways he succeeded, and I think that the Church shouldn't be allowed to hunt us down for it's own sake. There are some good kids in our pack, you know. Just honest-to-god decent kids that the Church wants to put down. It's not right."

"So what will you be doing if you suceed?"

"Hunt down the Professor, definitely. The Church may be corrupt, but the root of the evil afflicted to the world spawned from that one man. After we end the Church in the nearby city, then we'll be able to be in charge."

"You seem confident that a couple of Creations can take on hundreds of Zealots."

Ragnor looks at you with a wry grin, "You seem to be under a false-impression-- there really aren't that many Zealots. Can't be. The city they have is large, but only in comparison to other strongholds. Zealots are almost always male, if only because armor-fitting females is different, and they're probably sparse on metal. Plus, only able-bodied men can wield those huge-ass rifles. I'd say they have 200 Zealots tops, and that's not including how many you've just killed. Furthermore, they'll be divided while they march to our hideout and..."

"That's still a lot."

He shrugs, "As Wolves, we can shift either at will or automatically when stimulated luminescent orbs for some reason, into huge were-beasts. With proficiency, we can prove to be the fastest and most lethal things left on the planet. If, this week, we can train the kids to use their powers well, then it's definitely doable."

"You sure Gideon's okay with it?" You ask, wondering whether you'll be joining him for sure,

"Regardless of what Gideon thinks about it, I won't be taking everybody with me, that's too much of a risk, and I doubt I could convince everybody, but..."

You shrug, changing the subject, "How experienced are you at your abilities?"

"Enough."

"You think you can take me on?" You ask, leaning forward and balancing your body on your palms.

"Maybe. I kind of figure the Vampire Creations were made in order to build foundations for the Professor. They can live forever, create progeny of sorts, etc. I have no idea how combat ready they are. Still, you're extremely resourceful, so I definitely hope you stick around. With your ghouling powers, we can create an entire civilization of Creations. Imagine how great that'd be!"

"I'll be honest, Ragnor; you didn't seem so cheery when I first met you."

"When you first met me I had to make a good impression." He laughs. "Now, come on, we need to get back to training the cubs."


"I... Think Ragnor has a solid point. We can definitely beat the Zealots as long as we have the element of surprise. And if this goes well, then we won't have to worry about extinction ever again."

The blonde vixen looks up to you, as do most of the Wolves. Ragnor laughs, and pats you on the back. Gideon, on the other hand, merely frowns, closes his eyes, and announces, "Right. Welcome to the family, Vampy. I'd rest, we're all practically nocturnal here anyhow.

The cloaked Ragnor frowns, "Are you sure? I was just about to bring out the alcohol..."

"No alcohol, Ragnor. We have a long night tonight, lots of training we need to go through. I don't think some of us here have actually fought Zealots."

Ragnor nods, and the rest of the Wolves shuffle back to their blankets. Gideon shuts the lantern off, and heads down the hatch, disappearing after a thud.

Meanwhile, you find a piece of concrete that is comfortable enough to meditate on, and begin to close your eyes... Only to realize that all the Wolves are watching you for some reason. They're all smiling, and the pretty one in particular seems to watch you in the dark of day. At some point during the night, she leans towards you to whispers, "Hi, I'm Cecilia." She giggles.

"Uh, hi." You whisper back lamely.

The next couple of days fly by, and you manage to go over the histories of your new friends, as well as prepare them for the fight.
> You gideon's tale.
Hours pass quicker than you'd want during the training sessions. You've realized that the Wolves are powerful, but undisciplined, almost childish at times. But at the end of the night, you got work done. Yet, even after the night passes, Gideon routinely goes under the hatch. You've tried to peek at him, in interest of what he does when alone, but it brings no more results than asking around; zilch. But on one of those times you spend upside down, silently hanging from the hatch, Gideon turns around to acknowledge you.

The hunchbacked leader stares back at you with cold eyes, "What do you want, lad? You think it's possible I really do just like sitting down here, alone?"

Shocked, you suddenly lose your grip; only to land upright, as a cat would. "I, uh, maybe. But I've asked around, and people wonder about you, as I do. You're very... Silent, for a leader."

He laughs, "Leader? Hah, that's good, Vampire. I just do the heavy work, as always. Keeping watch is one of my duties."

"Don't put yourself down, Gideon. You seem to know what you're doing." You say, unsure how to respond to his glumness.

"Vamp, the camp here believes you-- and that's fine by me, I'll be honest and say I trust you too, but the fact that we'll be fighting the Church isn't a good thing, regardless of the rewards."

"Like our lives?"

"You're young and timeless, so it's not something you can really sympathize with." Gideon snorts, "No offense, Vamp."

"None taken, but what do you mean?" You say, letting him continue.

 "I don't think you really get what the Church is. I mean, I don't think anybody here does. Even Ragnor, he's blinded by rage and fury. He believes that the Church needs to be destroyed for the betterment of everyone, especially us. But..."

"But what?" By now you're getting a bit agitated at Gideon for being so ambiguous.

He turns his face away, "But he's dead wrong about it. Almost all of us here remember the treatments the Professor gave us. To say the least, you're lucky to have forgotten most, if not all of them. That man just bred hatred, even more than the religious back in the day." A pause. "He hurt us all, in so many ways. But worse yet, he made us hurt others. It started with killing evil, but then came to killing innocents, the only food-source left for us. And we followed him through fire and water, that man. Kurschner represented our hopes and dreams, true power for a true purpose. But he lied to us, and used us for himself, experimented with us, made sure our past lives weren't there so that there was nothing for us to go back to. Even I don't remember too much of what was before I became a Wolf. The dreams stop after you get comfortable in your form."

The older gentlemen continues, "By the way, are you still dreaming?"

"Uh..." You begin to realize that you indeed have stopped dreaming since you joined, "No, I rest much better now."

He frowns in return, "Best not get too comfortable here, then. Those dreams are your only way to know what is really going on."

"Which also reminds me, did you have somebody help you get out of the Facility before it was burnt down?"

"Err, yes." You nervously answer.

"Did he have a name?"

"Kelso."

"Who?"

"Ahem, uh, Kelso." You repeat, slower this time. "He said he knew you. Also mentioned a fellow named Stein."

Gideon bites his lip, "Never met a fellow named Kelso. Did he say anything else?"

"He mentioned being tasked with watching the Lesser Creations, along with several other elites."

"That explains it, though I can't say I know who he is under his new pseudo-name. I wonder where he is now..."

"I wish I knew, " you say, longingly, "he said he'd come back at some point, he was searching for the Professor."

"As do we all." Gideon says, closing his eyes, "Simon Kurschner was one evil, however brilliant man. A lot of our older members ran out in hopes to hunt him down, though they never returned..."


It's time to get these sleepy assholes up and running.

You nod to the crowd as they gather around you, staring with glossy eyes and gaping mouths. "I'm not going to sugarcoat anything," you snarl, starting off with a very loud, though clear voice, "The Church has plans to raid our little stronghold here by next week."

Gasps from the Wolves, and men exit their bags. Seems to have worked, for now.

"And while that may be hard to believe, I'm sure we all know how ruthless the Zealots are. I escaped from the last Facility-- Facility 13, soon before it came tumbling down with C.E. Troopers, who burned down the laboratory. Since then, I have fought many of them, some purposely in order to find my brethren here, to join you as well as to warn you of the incoming second apocalypse. We are blessed Creations, gifted in our own right. We aren't innately evil, like the Church believes. Rather, we are capable of great things, but only if we survive our genocide."

"Then what do you want us to do?" One of them shouts out, interrupting you.

"I want you to fight back, and prepare for when they come next week. We need to take the initiative; I know how powerful Creations can be, so I have no doubt in my mind that we can beat them. But only if we get ready."

"Why should we trust you?" One of the younger ones ask.

You bare your teeth; fear is a big factor of your speech, "Because if I'm right then we all die." You seethe out, staring intently at your brethren. "We have three options the way I see it; defend the stronghold and prepare for when they come; try to take control of the city with our combined strengths before the attack; or just get slaughtered when the time comes."

Most of the Wolves continue gaping, though Gideon cracks his knuckles.

"Nice speech, Vampire" A voice declares, and the red-cloaked figure pops out of the hatch. Ragnor's hood fall down, and the profile is of a middle-aged, balding man. Terribly tall, and lean; powerful and domineering. "Do you really think we can overtake the Church?"

"If we do it carefully, yes."

He smiles, "Then I like what I'm hearing; I'm in." While it's amusing how enthusiastic he is, it also seems to win over more of the Wolves. Perhaps Ragnor is a big figure in the Wolf Underground. "It is likely to work, too. While some of us are inexperienced, we can easily beat them while their forces are divided into attacking our stronghold. We just need to be clever."

Gideon continues to grimly frown, "I think the 'hold the fort' idea will work better. It's safer, and more suited to our abilities."

It's odd, but you feel like it's completely your decision. Maybe they just really trust in you?
> You agree with Gideon.
You sigh, somewhat content with the ability to choose for your group. "I agree with Gideon-- defending is probably the best option. After all, the humans... Even if they hate us, they aren't our real enemy right now." Gideon grins, and slaps you on the back. Ragnor shrugs, and heads to a splintered cabinet in the back of the room. He comes back with several cans, accurately labeled as 'beer'. With a grin, he begins handing them out to the 'adults' in the room and you. "Rest on the floor, Vamp. Today is a day of celebration, a joiner to our brood!"

With some large chants, Ragnor clicks open the can, and begins handing it to you. As you reach to take it, he immediately withdraws it. He lays it on the floor in front of you, then proceeds to bring a clawed index finger to his wrist above the can, poking deeply into it and letting blood slowly drip into the can.

"Hah, I forgot you can't really taste anything but blood. Don't worry though, this'll get you high on no one's expense, Vamp, enjoy yourself."

You laugh, scratching at your head for forgetting. You accept the bloody beer; while it's nothing compared to full blood, it's the most happy you've been since you got out of the Facility. It's nice to be part of a family. You and the rest of the Creations laugh and discuss the 'happenings' of the current world. You can't add much, but the leaders of the Wolves' collective stories are fascinating in their own rights, though. On top of it all, you think you've really hit it off with Cecilia-- the blonde Wolf.

The next couple of days fly by...
> You defending the Stronghold.
The next week involved quite a bit of socializing and preparation for the big day. Night by night you trained, and although the week didn't give you as much time as you wanted, it gave you enough to get a feel for the Wolves, make a start with the community, and most importantly, teach the young ones how to harness their frustration into power. Power, that will hopefully be enough to block the Zealots off, and beat them by matter of attrition.

You feel as though you've gotten on pretty good terms with both Gideon and Ragnor, both of whom are simply great guys. You've noticed that, despite their differing ideologies, they have utmost respect for each-other, which is rather pleasant to see. Something that always lay at the back of your mind, though, was that Ragnor claimed that he was going to raid the City, regardless of what choice the group took, but you never understood that. How was he going to do that without support?

Still, the only thing you really feel sad about is the lack of time you were able to have with Cecilia. Even though you've trained together, you really wish you could have talked to her more often, about things other than unleashing her concealed persona: the werewolf. But, you manage to keep yourself jovial enough knowing that if you succeed at stopping the Zealot onslaught, you'll have all the time in the world with your new love. Additionally, you might even be able to learn how to read the mysterious hieroglyphs when times of peace are near.

Bright lights ahead, but you just have to reach it.

As the week passes, you all begin sitting in a circle daily, discussing the plan thoroughly, and then send out scouts to see if the Zealots are sending their men to raid your headquarters. The plan is simple; when you are alerted of the Zealot present, you will block off the entrance with any object available, then hide in secluded corners in the dark maze that is the well, and slowly pick off the Zealots as they pass.

Today is one of those days, and you are warily waiting for the knock from the scouts. Any day now, the Zealots should be coming. Time passes; you do this twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, to see if they're preparing for a night-attack or not. You hope it's at night, as the Creations would have an advantage, probably. Additionally, you wouldn't have to worry about sun-tan lotion, the tube Kelso gave you will run out sooner or later. And so you wait, everybody around you waiting in silence.

You hear the codified knock: Clunk-clunk-clunk.

Someone lets out a sigh-- today isn't the day.

You go out to train once more, reviewing everything, and then turning back to refill on blood. Gideon gives you a broken plastic-cup with maybe an ounce of his blood. You drink it slowly, savoring the taste. It reinvigorates you, like usual, and you set down to meditate, waiting for nightfall.

That night...

Clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk

That's 4... Is tonight the night?

Ragnor's head poking out of the hatch confirms it, "Everybody, wake up, now!" Hearing this everybody assembles, bringing out spare Zealot armors and weapons. Indeed, even you're surprised by their efficiency tonight.

"Alright Wolves, tonight, we defend our home!" You announce, pumping your fist.

However, unlike most of your announcements, nobody but Gideon roars in applause. Ragnor approaches you with a laugh, "Sorry bud, I think we're making ourselves a new home, tonight."

"Huh?" You look around and it seems obvious that everybody but you and Gideon know what's going on.

Cecilia turns to you with a frown, "Sorry, love... but I can't live in this shit-hole any longer. I just... think it's time we took a stand. You understand, right?"

Gideon moves into the fray, sticking his finger into the taller man's chest, "What do you think you're doing, Ragnor? We, deh group, made a decision!"

Ragnor stares back at the hunchback, "Yes, and I made a re-vote, without the peer pressure the group is used to. Turns out, they trust the Church much less than you do, and think that surviving well is better than just surviving, uncertain if they'll get a next meal. We can be the new Human-race: 'Homo-Creatio,' us, the Wolves, Gideon. Think about it!"

Gideon just spits in disgust, "You fool! This is NOT how we're supposed to get continue! Ragnor, the humans "aren't much worse than we are, for there outlook is for survival as well. We can merge with them after showing how similar we are by not slaughtering them in their City!"

"I don't think so, friend. But if I were either of you, I'd join us for survival's sake only, no way can you survive the oncoming Zealots. I saw them-- several groups of ten and covering ground right now. It's either join us or meet your doom."

You look at Gideon, and his dark eyes just blink out, "Don't."

What it comes to, in the end, is whether you wish to join Ragnor and the rest to assault the city or stay by Gideon, alone and at the mercy of the incoming horde.
> You join Ragnor and the rest, to conquer the City as your own.
"I'm glad you made the right choice, Vamp." Ragnor beams, and Cecilia gives you an excited thumbs-up. Gideon, on the other hand, simple glares at Ragnor, shakes his head, and takes a seat on a broken bench. "You sure you don't want to reconsider?" Ragnor asks, rubbing at his chin.

Gideon makes no answer.

"Forget it." He waves his hand, "Alright, guys, let's do this!" You all clamber out of the hatch and out of the well. The starry night opens up from above you and the darkness gives light to other matters. The Zealots, no doubt very ritualistic, are maintaining their flashing armor, which you vaguely make out from several miles away. You point them out to Ragnor, and he makes note of them.

"That's a lot of Zealots on their way, I hope they don't have that much more fortifying the inside. Ragnor, do you have a plan for this?"

"Yeah." The Wolf grunts, scratching at his head furiously. "God damnit! If Gideon came, he could have lead a group, and we'd have two solid teams, flanking the enemy fortress."

"Can't I lead?" You ask, uncertain of his plan.

"You could, but that'd be a waste of you're abilities. We're going to send you inside of it, where you'll be trying to assassinate the leaders of the Zealots. That way our assault can succeed in their confusion."

"Okay..." You nod, trying to visualize your role in this plan, "So what about David?"

"David isn't exactly a leading-personality."

"He knows what he's doing."

"Which is why he should come with you! He'd be much more useful by you than with us. We're just giving you time. We can have one of the other Wolves lead, but for now you will no doubt need help, and a former Zealot who knows the inner working of the compound is just perfect."