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World of Darkness: Attrition - Bloody Valentine [Fin]

Sarah Dead-Wolf

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[10:00PM 14 Feb 2009]

The shit I do for my cousin...

A sleek, deadly predator sheathed in skintight fire-engine red, sporting extra height atop three-inch heels and with an aura about her that told mortals that this femme-fatale was perhaps a bit too much of the fatale, Sarah stalked through the one part of her territory she had not previously explored, hating every minute of it.

Oh, the place was a feast if she was up for it, of that there was no doubt. Hef always threw one hell of a Valentine's Day bash, and 2009 was no exception: the Playboy Mansion and grounds thereof were packed with the beautiful and well-to-do. And Sarah cut through the crowd like a shark, schooled fish moving aside without even realizing why, as she looked for her real prey tonight.

She'd never have gotten past the front gate in her usual denim and combat boots. Indeed, she hadn't gotten past the front gate; they were checking invitations carefully at this massive sin-fest. So, she had - with the help of her werewolf kin, made her way through the "back door" of the locus, starting on the outside of the fence and winding up on the inside. Still, the outfit was the only thing keeping her on the grounds. That didn't make her like the sex-pot dress that Amber had first bought her and then helped wedge her into a single bit. Thoughts of ripping it off and tossing it on one of the Bacchanalian fires that burned in various corners of the lavish grounds, then shedding her skin entirely to become the wolf and really show this crowd what an adrenaline rush was like, brought a wistful smile to her lips... and not a pleasant smile.

It took a long, long twenty minutes before she felt his Beast. After that, only a couple minutes of careful homing brought her face to face with the late Mr. Dylan Byrons.

Without preamble, she walked up close to him and whispered in his ear, "We need to talk."

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He turned around, looking her over in a sweeping glance from head to foot and back again. His gaze indicated that he'd looked her over and found her wanting. "I'm busy," he said, keeping his voice pleasant. Handing her a card, he offered, "Call that number after dark and I'll set up a time to talk to you."

"Now," Sarah said, growling a little. She leaned closer, and Dylan fought to not shrink back. "You're in my territory," she hissed.


So this was the little Beast that all the Daeva had been warned about. "No, thank you," he said politely, knowing that he was safe among the mortals. "I've heard about the treatment you give your uninvited guests." He let his expression become mock-reproving. "And honestly, if you didn't want people to crash your area, you shouldn't have claimed one of the premiere party spots in L.A. But really, call that number, and we can have a chat, if you have something important to discuss. Now if you'll excuse me, I see some twins I have to meet." He grinned at her, touching his tongue to a tooth so that Sarah got the idea of what kind of encounter he planned.

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A hand was suddenly on his arm. Oh, it certainly looked the part of a lady accepting an escort from a gentleman... but there was steel in her grip, the painted red nails biting into his shirt. Dylan knew that this particular Savage wasn't going to be brushed off quite so easily.

"Let's try this again," she said through a forced smile and clenched teeth. "We're going to take a walk, off somewhere so we can speak in private. And then we're going to hash out the particulars of permissions and favors. Is this clear, or do I have to modify my manicure?"

Click to reveal..
Burning blood for Strength

Grapple check to establish very firm grip on Dylan's arm

Str 4 + Brawl 2 - Defence 3 = 3

(11:16:04) ChatBot: (Sarah_O'Neally) rolls 3d10 and gets 6,8,4.

One success.

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Francesa had been chased off and threatened to the point that she'd sputtered in impotent rage over the entire matter, according to a fellow clanmate. She was said to be a strange Savage; not even the other Savages knew of her. It was deeply interesting to Dylan that she hadn't run him off as well, that she'd made all this effort to get inside and was offering to talk to him. He wondering if this was some animal thing, if she was offering him the chance because the Savage couldn't share it with another female.

He was intrigued, but this little red-head had shown unsafe tendencies. Better to be cautious.

Pretending to think, he slipped his hand into his jacket and toggled his safety switch. Outside the grounds, his bodyguards began to move to more offensive positions. Once they were outside, he could be to his men in seconds and be protected by them. He smiled a little, musing, Vitae-addicted humans - there is nothing better. "Lead on... what was your name?"

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"Sarah," she offered in two syllables that were at once purrs and growls. She saw the signs in this miserable tresspasser, signs of interest that matched what she'd seen in many mortals over the past few years and even another vampire or two, and that knowledge alone kept any of that purr at all in her voice. That, and the fact that she needed to play at least halfway nice... at least for the next few minutes.

"Sarah O'Neally, actually," came a brief amendment as she led her "escort" through the crowded halls and out onto the back patio. The redwood deck was still shoulder-to-shoulder mortals, but the sheer predatory vibe given by this odd couple was enough to clear a way for them, and it didn't take long to set their feet on a stone-paved path - still populated, but more sparsely so. If Dylan had ever been here before, she knew, he'd know exactly where she was heading. And if I'm lucky, he'll get entirely the wrong idea about it. "And yours?"

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"Dylan," he said easily, laughing to himself when he realized that he'd once again allowed himeslf to become interested in another fiery Savage. Hopefully, she'd end better than Jenna had. This wasn't how things had begun with Jenna, so there was hope.

The Grotto was an interesting choice, and closer still to the fence, so Dylan allowed it for now. He was pleased that he'd already found a juicy mortal - it would make things easier should this whelp decide to get dangerous. He was careful to keep them in view of other mortals, and he once caught sight of one of his men just outside the fence, eagerly watching him. "Now," he said, halting and making her follow him to a stop, "what did you want to talk about?" He extracted his arm from hers firmly and turned to face her.

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"Conditions," Sarah replied flatly. "You're in my territory, and you want to hunt here. I obviously don't want people hunting willy-nilly in my territory. But at the same time, I'm more than willing to acknowledge that there's more than enough here... so long as the other party is polite about it, willing to ask permission and offer something in trade."

The Gangrel ran fingertips over the low-hanging branch of a live oak that shaded much of the grotto during warmer times of year, moving along the branch as she did so, slow steps that moved fenceward, looking to be sure her "guest" was following. "That little piece of ass that kept poking around here wasn't willing to do so. Tried to play games. She doesn't come 'round here anymore. I'd like to think that you've got a better mind for opportunity.

"So you obviously know what you've got to gain in the bargain. Question is: what's in it for me to not get primal?"

Click to reveal..
Sarah's going for manipulation by way of intimidation

Manip 2 + Intimidation 1 = 3

(22:12:19) ChatBot: (Sarah_Dead-Wolf) rolls 3d10 and gets 2,9,10.

(22:12:25) ChatBot: (Sarah_Dead-Wolf) rolls 1d10 and gets 5.

Two successes

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Her threat worked; it scared him and pissed him off. This little shit was acting all hot stuff, and her casual threat of violence told Dylan he couldn't trust her. She's going to kill me, if not tonight, then in time, Dylan thought, his mind flipping from smug sophisication to creeping paranoia. This was an elaborate ploy to get him alone so that she could kill him. It didn't matter whether it was true, because to Dylan it was a certainty.

And he wouldn't take it lying down. Dylan liked the philosophy of destroying what scared him, and he took it to heart now.

He waited until she had turned her head to watch the path she was walking, when they were not completely behind the grotto but where in a well of shadow. When she wasn't looking, he fumbled for his weapon of choice. The slim rod of polish oaked hidden in his sleeve slipped out and he made his attack. His blood burned away as he used it for his own ends.

His stake slipped into her back, cutting through fabric and skin alike. But it missed the heart; he could tell by the feel of the weapon in her body, but also by her lack of immobilization. Backpedaling, he fumbled for the second stake as he shouted, "Help! Guys!"

For now, his shouts were just someone having rambuncous fun at a party. But soon, they'd draw real attention.

Click to reveal..
Dylan's Resolve + Compusure check: 1 sux, failure

1d10=2, 1d10=6, 1d10=9, 1d10=1

Opposed Stealth check: Dylan wins

Dylan's Stealth: 2 sux

1d10=5, 1d10=6, 1d10=10, 1d10=6, 1d10=9


Sarah's Perception: 1 sux

1d10=7, 1d10=4, 1d10=1, 1d10=9, 1d10=1

Dylan burned one blood for Vigor, one for +2 Strength

Dylan's staking attempt: 1 sux, +1 damage from Vigor, 2 Lethal, staking failed

1d10=4, 1d10=7, 1d10=9, 1d10=1, 1d10=1

One last note: as I stated in an earlier fiction, Dylan is not afraid to break the Masquerade to save himself, or just so that it won't interfere in his fun. I just wanted to remind everyone that this is in character for him.

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What happened next wasn't a frenzy. Not quite, anyway. But as the Dead Wolf felt hardened wood pierce her breast and miss her heart by a hair, a redness came swirling in from the edges of her vision. It, along with the ebony claws that appeared on her fingertips, appeared over the space of mere seconds, but the predatory air about the Gangrel heightened as she slid into the Red Surrender.

Sense came alive, augmented both by Luna's blessing and the curse of her Beast; in a flash, she had a far, far better understanding of the situation. This trespasser had friends, somewhere within earshot... and that was a problem that had to be fixed.

No doubt, Dylan was fast. But the renegade Daeva was off-balance, both by the fact that Sarah was still standing and in a desperate effort to extract his well-hidden backup weapon from somewhere within a five-hundred dollar outfit. It didn't help one bit that Sarah was absolutely determined to shut him the hell up.

The moment of distraction, when the Daeva glanced down at his second stake, wasn't much. But he looked back up just in time to see black razors slash in under his chin and feel them tear through the front of his throat like a chainsaw through balsa.

For the first time in years, Dylan was rendered - quite literally - speechless.

Click to reveal..
Going for his larynx with claws. Spending Willpower to make it happen.

Str 2 + Brawl 2 + Spec. Claws 1 + Willpower 3 - Defense 3 - Targetted 3 = 2

(13:16:05) ChatBot: (Sarah_O'Neally) rolls 2d10 and gets 1,9.

One agg to Dylan's voicebox. He shuts up.

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Dylan was quite done with this. His best chance at putting this feral Savage down had passed by, his vocal cords were dangling out his neck like an undone string tie, and the damned bitch was still there, the crimson on her claws matched in her eyes. Discretion, valor, and all that, he thought as more vitae burned away, and the world seemed to slow down a touch as the Succubus dashed to and over the fence in time that would shame an Olympic athlete. His faithful, blood-slaved bodyguards were closing the distance.

Meanwhile, Sarah - even in the half-feral state of the Red Surrender - realized that this fight had just turned very much against her. Dylan on his own would go down quick enough, but those goons of his, whether ghouled or even just mortal, turned the odds in a bad way. Dropping low, the Dead Wolf ducked into the shrubbery; once there, she reached clawed hands around to her back, grabbing the polished wooden shaft and yanking it free in a single, excruciating motion.

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Both wearing the Urhan, Owns-The-Night and Amber crouched shoulder to shoulder in the bushes just beyond the clear patch that ran along the fence to the Playboy Estate, level with the grotto. Eyes, ears and noses open, they scanned this way and that, searching not just for their prey, but for any other threats in the night.

Both tensed as two men appeared and began ambling down the fence line, paying close attention to the other side. >Leech's slaves< Declan whuffed softly in First Tongue. Then the yelling started.

>Take left one! I take right!< He growled low as the two men drew firearms from their coats, still looking over the fence. With that he charged from the bushes, head and tail low, speeding like a large furry arrow across the grass. He was silent, only making a faint thumping from his paws on the turf. Silver eyes burned brightly as he fixed his gaze on the back of the neck of his prey.

At the last moment he saw the target, a leech with a torn out throat, come streaking across the fence with incredible speed. But the Rahu's focus was on his primary target. He leapt and Changed, forcing Essence through his supernatural frame to quicken the shift to Dalu. Still in the air, he clenched one huge fist, winding it back as he felt the Ralunim singing in his blood, charging his hands with the power to shatter stone.

Bone and flesh stood no chance.

Owns-The-Night's massive shoulders surged, his fist crunching home between the man's shoulder-blades, pulverising the vertebrae and back of the ribcage and catapulting the hapless blood slave forward against the fence. He was dead before he even felt the pain. Landing on the balls of his feet, his enemy's blood on his hand and arm, the Rahu fought the impulse to bay, instead grinning toothily as he spun to take stock of the situation.

Fuckin'-A. No breach of the Oath. Man got himself smacked with something large and heavy he silently exulted.

Click to reveal..

Dex & Stealth roll to move silently

(04:54:58) ChatBot: (Dec) rolls 6d10 and gets 1,8,10,1,6,7.

(04:55:03) ChatBot: (Dec) rolls 1d10 and gets 6.

Spending 1 Essence to shift to Dalu

Spending 1 WP for Crushing Blow

(05:08:31) (Dec): Strength 5 + Brawl 3 = 8 dice. No def for the target

(05:09:23) ChatBot: (Dec) rolls 8d10 and gets 2,9,10,8,9,4,10,8.

(05:09:37) ChatBot: (Dec) rolls 2d10 and gets 9,4.

7 Lethal

(05:10:02) (Dec): I love my job

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When Dec lunged, so did Amber. She dove for the one on the left. She was just as silent as Declan, her paws barely stirring the grass or making any noise as she ran. This was life, a glorious, beautiful rush forward.

And if she was lucky, this would be a vampire, with a sweet, red surprise-

Amber forced the thoughts away. Now was not the time, and as Declan had said, these were not likely to be vampires themselves. That freed her to use her teeth, even as she lost the desire to bite them.

But she still hoped, deep inside, that Declan was wrong.

She dashed to the attack and, without hesitation, attacked as a wolf does, her teeth grabbing at the meat of his thigh and ripping it. Blood, thick, red and living, poured into her mouth. It wasn't what she was loking for, but her stomach still jerked as its warmth coated her mouth.

The man screamed and wretched away. Wuffing, Amber said, <Get big prey! I take this one!>

Click to reveal..
To resist attacking as if a vmpire: 1 sux

(23:26:20) (Carver): Res/Composure = 5 + 3

(23:26:27) ChatBot: (Carver) rolls 8d10 and gets 1,2,4,4,8,3,4,1.

(23:30:10) (Carver): Str + Brawl + 2 for bite +2 for charge = 10 dice: 2 sux

(23:30:15) ChatBot: (Carver) rolls 10d10 and gets 1,6,8,2,8,2,3,3,3,3.

(23:30:37) (Carver): And need my Stealth...

(23:30:55) ChatBot: (Carver) rolls 7d10 and gets 7,7,6,3,8,9,7.

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A scream caught Sarah's ear. While it might not have roused those in the grotto from their mating rituals, there was always the chance that it would - which meant this needed to end fast. Either way, she knew from the sounds - and smells, now - that the pack was in the fight.

Stake still clutched in one taloned hand, she darted for the fence, kicking off the ridiculous and ruined heels as she did to expose the claws that now tipped her toes. She didn't vault the wooden structure as the Succubus had done; instead, she went up over the thing like a cat tearing over a sofa, landing in a ready crouch in the midst of the fray - a predator ready for the kill.

Dylan realized three thing in very, very short order, even before Sarah landed behind him. First, his hand-picked and carefully managed bodyguards had been lost inside of mere seconds. Second, the rumors were true that this fucking Savage had a pack - though of exactly what, the jury was still out. And third, any further implications could be considered anywhere but here.

More blood poured into his muscles, maintaining a preternatural speed that - he hoped, anyway, the Gangrel bitch and her friends couldn't match. But where to run? Back to the party was no good; too slow if he got caught in the huge crowds, and Sarah had already made painfully clear that she wouldn't mind using her claws on him there. North was out, as the massive thing that had crushed a man's life in a single blow stood in his way. East had a twenty-foot chainlink fence bounding the edge of the Los Angeles Country Club. Without hesitation, Dylan took the last option, sprinting south along the fenceline... toward Holmby Park.

Watching the target - the prey, some part of her Beast-ridden mind whispered - flee toward the heart of her territory, Sarah growled out words to her allies. "His speed won't last. Burns blood too fast." Without waiting, she tore off after the Daeva, shifting to a wolf even as she ran.

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Sarah was fast on her four paws, but the huge fur-covered shape that bounded past her was faster still, loping at an incredible pace after the blurring Daeva. Owns-The-Night had shifted in an eyeblink as Sarah had taken off after Dylan, the ever-present fury fanned to new life as he saw the cowardly prey fleeing. He is NOT getting away! the Rahu silently swore as, taking the Urshal, he swiftly overhauled the leech, sheer aggression and lust for the kill driving him onward.

Dylan sensed the approach of his doom, the Daeva casting one swift glance back to see the silver-eyed, dark-furred fiend was almost on him. Giving a whistling attempt at a cry, breath hissing through his useless throat, the Daeva turned and tried to avoid his fate. The Blood Talon was too swift, too lethal when at the kill for such evasions, however. Fenris-Ur's children were nothing if not merciless and efficient at destruction.

Owns-The-Night's mighty jaws ripped into the Daeva's face as he sprang upon him, shearing through bone and flesh, ruining the handsome looks the leech was so proud of as he was borne down to the ground struggling. Thick cold blood pooled around the wounds, the undead creature's stolen vitality trying to reassert itself as the werewolf sprang clear, ready to leap in and slash again.

Click to reveal.. (The Chase)

(00:24:37) (Owns-The-Night): Right. Round 1. Speed 38 vs 60 is a diff of 22, which means 7 bonus dice for sonny-jim

Dylan's Roll

(00:25:29) ChatBot: (Carver) rolls 12d10 and gets 1,1,3,8,4,7,3,10,3,2,9,6.

(00:25:38) ChatBot: (Carver) rolls 1d10 and gets 10.

(00:25:44) ChatBot: (Carver) rolls 1d10 and gets 5

4 succs

Owns-The-Night's Roll

(00:26:23) (Owns-The-Night): Spending 1 Essence to change into Urshal and 1 WP for the first round of the chase

(00:26:56) (Owns-The-Night): Sta 5 Athletics 2 + 3 dice = 10

(00:27:01) ChatBot: (Owns-The-Night) rolls 10d10 and gets 6,9,9,7,6,9,7,8,6,8.

5 succs

Chase is over in the first round, free action to Dec.


(00:43:30) (Owns-The-Night): Okay. Str 6 + Brawl 3 + 2 Bite + 2 Charge = 12. - 5 def = 7 dice.

(00:43:44) ChatBot: (Owns-The-Night) rolls 7d10 and gets 9,10,4,6,5,2,10.

(00:43:59) ChatBot: (Owns-The-Night) rolls 2d10 and gets 6,10.

(00:44:03) ChatBot: (Owns-The-Night) rolls 1d10 and gets 8.

5 Lethal to Dylan.

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Amber lunged for her human just as he shot at her, his gun silenced. He missed, and so did she, her teeth catching his sleeve and ripping through the cloth rather than skin.

Click to reveal..
(20:54:12) (Carver): Ok. Amber's Str + Brawl + Bite - Defense... 5 dice. Bah.

(20:54:21) ChatBot: (Carver) rolls 5d10 and gets 7,6,1,2,1.

(20:54:36) (Carver): Thug's attack on her

(20:55:38) ChatBot: (Carver) rolls 3d10 and gets 7,2,2.

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All falling apart, should have left, now eternity is all falling apart. Dylan knew he was done. The lupine was faster than him, a damned sight stronger, and sure as hell didn't seem the type to be talked down... even if he could talk. None of the options made a damned bit of sense; running wouldn't get him away, not in the backyard obstacle course he'd found himself dashing through before getting half his face torn off. Healing was moot; the vitae wouldn't move fast enough to make a difference in the face of this monster. And fighting it was utterly out of the question.


It was a long-shot, but better than the certain death that every other option represented. Oh, his face was a bloody mess, most of his nose and an eye utterly ruined. But the two most vital assets were still strong and sharp.

Fangs bared, Dylan lunged at Declan's throat with every last bit of effort left to his dying body.

An incredible and utterly unholy sense of pleasure washed through the werewolf's Urshal body as the Succubus began to feed.

Click to reveal..
Dylan's going for broke, hoping to establish the Kiss. Spending vitae for Strength and Willpower for the pool

Effective Str + Brawl 8 + Willpower 3 - Defence 3 = 8

(11:42:50) ChatBot: (Sarah_Dead-Wolf) rolls 8d10 and gets 10,1,4,7,5,5,4,9.

(11:42:55) ChatBot: (Sarah_Dead-Wolf) rolls 1d10 and gets 5.

2 successes. Kiss is established. Dylan drains one blood, doing one lethal to Declan.

Still at least two score yards away, moving as fast as dead muscle would carry her, Sarah saw what was playing out, and howled in rage as she pushed herself beyond her limits to close the distance.

Click to reveal..
Sarah spends a vitae for Dex, boosting her run speed just a touch. Should be where Declan and Dylan are next turn.
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He felt rapture wash over him, stifling his fury, the dim howling of his outrage shunted away from his senses as the leech's foul bite filled him with ecstacy. He knew he was being fed on. He knew that he was being treated as prey, but he couldn't seem to summon the strength to translate that insult into violence. He was quiescent under the vampire's fangs, the only conscious sensations he had ones of dirty pleasure that would fill him with shame as he remembered them later.

Click to reveal..

(00:30:22) (Owns-The-Night): Resolve & Composure roll

(00:30:40) (Owns-The-Night): Burning a WP

(00:30:47) ChatBot: (Owns-The-Night) rolls 8d10 and gets 2,1,7,1,1,3,7,7.

0 succs

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The sheer potency of the lupine's blood was overwhelming. So overwhelming, in fact, that Dylan was oblivious to the world around him when the Dead Wolf leapt in a final pounce, tearing into and through his ribcage with a savage ferocity bordering on that he'd received from Declan.

Consciousness and the illusion of life fled his broken body, and what remained of Dylan dropped to the ground in deep torpor.

Click to reveal..
Burning another blood for strength, charging:

Effective Str 4 + Brawl 2 + Claws Spec 1 + Charge 2 = 9

No Defence (target is engrossed in feeding)

(19:04:43) ChatBot: (Sarah_Dead-Wolf) rolls 9d10 and gets 9,10,6,2,1,10,7,4,10.

(19:04:50) ChatBot: (Sarah_Dead-Wolf) rolls 3d10 and gets 6,5,3.

4 lethal; target is in torpor

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The thought of shifting up occured to her, but Amber was too aware that her near-wolf form, while very suited to combat, was stretching a violation of the Oath. Besides, it should have been easy to take him down as a wolf. That was not the case, for whatever reason.


She lunged at him, and he sidestepped, avoiding her attack. But that messed up his aim and they danced in circles for precious seconds before Amber managed to get her teeth into his leg again. "Fucking mutt!" he snarled, firing into her. A dog would have run from the pain. Amber didn't.


That seemed to take the fight out of him and he turned and tried to run. Amber took the advantage to use her form's natural inclinations and grabbed him, trying to drag him down before he could run. The man dropped his gun and grabbed her head, twisting it around and prying painfully at her jaws. Whining, Amber decided that she was done.

Instantly, the man was gripping a much larger wolf, one that almost twice as strong as before. Snarling and sounding like a bear, she twisted and heaved and got her own toothy grip on the man again, this time on his chest. He barely got out; this time he tried to just get free and go for his gun.

The Urshal werewolf pounced on his back and bit down on the back of his neck, tearing away at his shoulders and skull. Hearing voices, she immediately shifted back down, just as a flashlight fell on her. Cursing her bad luck, she turned back to get a faceful of gun. She jerked her head to the side and he missed, but he'd accidentally been pressing the muzzle against the side of his head. He screamed as the flash burned him.

Amber was taking no chances. She bit the back of his head, hard. She heard a feminine scream and she looked up and snarled, bloody mouthed, at the woman on the other side of the fence. She ran, and Amber cursed to herself. She hadn't wanted to be seen. She left the body; it'd look like a dog attack. Instead, she grabbed the one Declan had killed, the one that was clearly not a dog attack, and began to drag it through the Shadow. She spent the necessary power to make it happen instantly.

Panting, she dropped the body and waited for the others to arrive.

Click to reveal..
Amber's Attack: 0 sux

1d10=2, 1d10=4, 1d10=2, 1d10=1, 1d10=6

Dylan's Thug's Attack: 0 sux

1d10=2, 1d10=1, 1d10=4

3 secs

Amber's Attack: 2 sux (spent WP), 2 Lethal

1d10=5, 1d10=7, 1d10=8, 1d10=3, 1d10=3, 1d10=10, 1d10=5, 1d10=4


Dylan's Thug's Attack: 0 sux

1d10=3, 1d10=7, 1d10=4

3 secs

Amber's Attack: 2 sux (WP spent), 2 Lethal

1d10=8, 1d10=6, 1d10=7, 1d10=9, 1d10=5, 1d10=5, 1d10=1, 1d10=3

Dylan's Thug's Attack: 2 sux, 2 Lethal

1d10=7, 1d10=1, 1d10=9

3 sec

Amber's overpowering Grapple attack (gain hold): 2 sux, no damage

1d10=9, 1d10=4, 1d10=5, 1d10=6, 1d10=6, 1d10=10, 1d10=5

Thug's overpowering Grapple attack (gain hold): 0 sux

1d10=6, 1d10=3, 1d10=2

3 sec

Amber's overpowering maneuver (gain hold): 3 sux, no damage

1d10=10, 1d10=4, 1d10=1, 1d10=7, 1d10=3, 1d10=9, 1d10=10

1d10=2, 1d10=4

Thug's overpower maneuver attack (break free): 1 sux, free, no damage

1d10=8, 1d10=1, 1d10=1

3 sec

Amber's attack: 3 sux

1d10=3, 1d10=9, 1d10=9, 1d10=7, 1d10=10, 1d10=4, 1d10=2


Thug's shot, over shoulder, with -2 damage penalties (chance die):


3 sec

Amber's attack: 1 sux

1d10=5, 1d10=4, 1d10=4, 1d10=3, 1d10=10


3 sec

21 seconds

Blew 2 WP, 3 Essence (quick shift 2, crossing the Gauntlet 1, pg 251)

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He shuddered in repugnance as the vampire fell away from his throat, the proud Rahu's soul shrivelling slightly at the memory of how that Kiss had felt.

<Loathsome bastard dark-spawned Leech!> the big Urshal swore in First Tongue as he shifted to wolf, gripped the thing's limp form and dragged it into the Shadow, expending spiritual essence to hasten the process.. Seeing Amber there, he barked to alert her of his presence and then went back over for Sarah.

Within two minutes, the Dead Wolf and her two allies stood in the Hisil over the mangled and savaged form of Dylan. Owns-The-Night, back in Dalu shape, looked over at Amber. "Well, we got him." he said, his voice coming with a hint of a wolf-like snarl of triumph as he cast his silver eyes over Sarah. "Thanks for the save there, Sarah. The fuckin' Leech tried to eat me." He gave the not-dead thing a kick in the ribs, feeling a couple snap under his heel. It made him feel a little better.

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"No troubles, Dec. They, um... they do that, yeah." Her face didn't quite go red - death had its advantages - but she otherwise looked awkward as all hell. There was no mystery as to why her werewolf friend and would-be Alpha was upset; she knew exactly what effect feeding had on the prey. And prey was something that Declan never, ever should be.

Trying to change the topic, the Dead-Wolf looked over to her cousin. "Not sure how much you know about this stuff, but this piece of shit should be out cold for anywhere from a few weeks to a few months, depending. Torpor's a royal bitch, and I'm glad he's in it. So you can take him back to your boss as-is for now." She looked down, and a look of something between concentration and constipation worked its way across her face in ripples and waves until she managed to spit a bloody gob at the torpored Daeva. "Fucker damned near sent me there."

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Amber nodded and shifted up, looking out of place in the Hisil in the nice suit. "I'll take him back to the apartment and call Theo. He can lift him out, without anyone noticing," she said, nodding.

She turned to them. "Thank you," she said softly, her eyes sincere. "I owe you both one, and... especially you, Sarah." Damn it. "Declan, do you want to take Sarah south to the Weaver's locus and cross there? I can drag Dylan home."

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"Alright." Owns-The-Night nodded to Amber and smiled. "This was fun. You should throw parties at the Playboy Mansion more often, girl."

He shifted to wolf form and nudged Sarah, grinning slyly. time-to-run-slowfoot! With that he darted off at a steady lope, not running flat out, trusting that the Dead Wolf would keep pace.

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Amber nodded as her packmate and dead cousin went to head for the other locus. She looked down at her charge. She wasn't looking forward to this, but she had to move him and she had few options.

Grumbling, she watched them disappear, then shifted into the Urshal form. Dipping her massive head, she grabbed him by the back of the neck like he was a cub - and smelled him.

Click to reveal..
Amber's check to not eat him (taken at a 2 die penalty): 4 sux, up to +5 dice on the next check1d10=3, 1d10=5, 1d10=2, 1d10=10, 1d10=1, 1d10=10

1d10=10, 1d10=10

1d10=7, 1d10=3

She thought of her pack, of her word to her boss, of her daughter, waiting for her to get better so that she could reclaim her. And it was enough to kill the urges, for now.

Her head high, feeling every inch the daughter of Luna she'd always wanted to be, Amber controlled her hunger and dragged her enemy back to her boss.

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