3 -- The Subway and the Warrens

[Session one: Sunday, May 26th, 2013]

Previously, the coterie has a strange dream.

I track down a local expert who specializes in the sort of fancy magic doodad we're looking for, and since I don't know jack about mysterious artifacts that I see in my dreams, we decide to seek out her help.  She lives down in the rat warrens under the subway, and so the fastest way there is by the 38th street A-Line subway entrance.

On our way down, we pass a homeless man.  I give him two bucks.  I know it's not going to wash the blood off my hands, but it's two bucks more than he had before so fuck off.

We hop over the gate marked "danger, no entry" and proceed down the tunnel only a short way before hearing some broad cry for help.

That debutante Nick takes off down the maintenance corridor like a big, dumb rocket.  I draw my pistol and chase after her.  We all arrive moments later to witness a small gang of thugs overcome with their lust and wrath for some unfortunate girl that fell into their trap.

Even before I can let off a shot, Nick's knife is in one of their ribs.  Street justice.  That guy trades her knife for his.  Guess which one of them bleeds more.

The others arrive shortly after, and serve up their own.  X rips into the closest one with his teeth and claws (I did mention he has retractable claws like some nightmare, right?)

We trade our lances.  It ends, predictably enough, with five corpses, and five barely-injured vampires.  These assholes didn't stand a chance.  With the train coming, I leap down the spider-hole in the middle of the tracks with just a half-second to spare.

The train arrives.  The doors open, revealing our mess.  The doors close again, and the automated subway carries on to the next station.

Bones McGee - Jimmy Vellum, that is - hops down the hole last.

"Hey Emil.  Drop something?" he says, tossing me my c96.

We continue down the tunnels underneath the subway, all the way into the sewer.  On my right, after about five hundred metres, I notice a Circle sign.  A rat skull's got briers growing out of its poor little mouth and engulf the edge of what appears to be a door.

"She's here," I say - "and the sign says 'open'".

We walk in, and the crone appears.  A hobbled creature of skin and teeth, she promises information in exchange for a toll.  We must retrieve her daughter.

I scour her hovel for clues towards our real goal (the sundial) while Cargen Nikola aska the witch for more information on her daughter.  I swallow my bile as I realize this creature has bought a six-year-old.

At first, we head back the way we came, but the thought of emerging into a crime scene makes me reconsider.  We agree to meet soon, and separate out into the night.