Sal said, "Perhaps we should unbind him. He may be more prone to listen to reason if we show just a little trust. Of course, we may first want to ask why these hunters were singled out for torture, while the rest were simply killed."

Michael shook his head. “You’ve been around vampires too long with their decorum and politics. Hunters have one job, to kill creatures like you using any and all methods at their disposal including lie, cheat, and steal. Leaving him unbound will only cause him to be distracted as he thinks of a way to kill us, free the others, or escape. Maybe after they agree sincerely.”

"Or maybe I've been around mortals too long, with their compassion and optimism? Still, you're the expert, and I concede to your judgement," Sal says to Michael. Then, to the bound hunter, "understand, that we currently have no reason, or desire to kill any of you. If we wanted you dead, we could have finished what your attacker started. Convince us you are no threat to us, and I'd happily agree to let you go whether you answer our questions or not, though I'd still appreciate your cooperation. Do we have an understanding?"

 As Michael got them down, he noticed a cross painted in blood across their brow and the bridges of their noses and, when he tried to heal them, he noticed that the wounds in their hands and feet would not heal (even though the bleeding stopped).

 The men looked up at Michael. They listened and many looked away for several moments before looking at him again. With great effort, they spoke (they all seemed to be trying to catch their breaths). "We're listening."

Michael sighed and sat down a couple of feet away. “There are a lot of supernaturals of all different kinds in the city as you already know. We’re not all out to screw over the human race. Most don’t even have a choice of being what they are. So they try to make a living and exist in our world as best they can. Some such as the group I am associated with have been actively combatting various cults and demons that are truly wicked and evil. I tried to warn the Hunters and give information about the cults in the area, so we might have a common goal as stay out of each other’s way. They didn’t listen and went after who and whatever they wanted. That’s when you woke a sleeping dragon called Dracula. He would have never come here and devastated your forces if you had just listened to me. I tried to heal you but the holes in your hands and feet will not close. A message from Dracula to all who would survive this encounter. I figure you won’t just take me at my word, so I leave the floor open to any questions you may have. I will try my best to answer them as long as it does not compromise the identities and locations of those who wish to remain anonymous.”

Sal gives the men a look of pity. "Whatever Dracula did to you, it's beyond my understanding. I'm afraid these wounds will never heal. And I have no idea what will happen when the vitae in your system wears out. If it wears out. Simply put, you "dragon slayers" crossed the wrong dragon."

Noah, for his part, was padding around the whole of the survivors getting contact information. If they didn't know he would set up a contact to the academy to see if they had spare beds. If there wasn't room there he would reach out to the Free Council as if there was one thing a bunch of techno hippies had, it was couch spaces.

He would see to it that people got in contact with friends and/or family, or shelter for the short term. Even if they didn't have family he would have work for them to be sure.

 Sal's news hit them like a ton of bricks and they fell silent. "Then there's no longer any point in asking questions."

 It was Voscal. He had been among those crucified. Unlike the others, both of his eyes had been taken.

 All that remained was to decide whether to take them back to the mansion for triage or do something else.

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

 Meep appeared and cheerlessly went about his work as Noah gathered contact information.

 Plans were made to get them sorted after their wounds were treated.

Michael shook his head as Sal’s disclosure of the wounds caused the negotiations to end. He understood how they must feel in this moment if he was in their shoes. “What will you do now if you are allowed to live? Do you still want to live at all?”

 Voscal looked up with his hollow eye sockets in the direction of Michael's voice. "Is there even any point anymore? We were the greatest warriors of the Malleus Maleficarum. Now we are nothing. Broken, corrupted. Our own brothers would kill us on sight.

 Let us be purified of this curse. Let us be free."

 The others weakly nodded in agreement... a sort of solemn death pact for the condemned and corrupted.

Sal said, accusingly, "You'd rather die than be unable to kill those like me? I said, I couldn't help you, not that you couldn't be helped! Hell, if I was convinced you'd stop trying to kill me and my friends, I'd gladly help you find a cure! And you call me a monster? Those I feed on survive, ignorant of their role in my survival. Have you ever had a meal that didn't mean the death of a living thing? You may still have a chance to do some good in this world, if only you'd stop seeing everything in black and white!"

 Voscal looked toward Sal's voice now. He was too physically broken and exhausted to muster much in the form of emotion. Even so, there was conviction in his words. "And what would this cure cost us? There is no point if we lose our souls in the process. We will not suffer the enemies of that which is holy to exist, nor will we join them.

 We have fallen, but what your Dragon has taken will not allow any of you to know peace. More will come in our stead until this place is cleansed of its taint."

Sal focuses his gaze, not on Voscal, but on one of the men with him, who still has an eye. He holds the man's head still with one hand, and his eye open with the other,"You will honestly answer any of Michael's questions you know the answer to." He looks at Michael, sadly. "I hate doing that. Michael, ask away."

Michael sighed. Now there was no chance of the Hunters being able to willingly work with them once compelled. He looked at the designated hunter and began his interrogation.“What is your name? How many Hunters were deployed to this city that you know of? What other relics or weapons were brought here? What plans were there for troop movements and who were they directed at? Where are any signal jamming devices located? What people or creatures have you worked with since you’ve been in the city?”

 The others scowled as Sal compelled one of the warriors to speak. The woman's good eye glazed over and she answered the questions he put forth in a monotone. "I am Emma Pendragon. We were not given the exact numbers of the other Malleus Maleficarum cells. Our cell came with Ascalon, Gram, Excalibur, and a nail of the true cross.

 We received our movement orders from Voscal, who reported to Abbot Cavera. We have a signal jamming device located in each Haven. We have not worked with any supernatural creatures since we have been here other than you."

"I'm sorry it had to come to this. If any of you still possess a will to live, my offer stands. I will try to find a way to heal you. Keeping your humanity is up to you. I would never try to take it from you, and this city has no need for new Vampires, anyway. Take some time to think about it. Michael, a moment in private?" Sal stepped outside the room.

Michael’s eyebrow arched at the mention of the nail of the True Cross. Of course they would miss that during their search as it didn’t stick out as a weapon. No doubt it was meant to be used against vampires they came across. He would need to use his sight to find it in the rubble after this. He expected their reaction to Sal’s compulsion. It would be tricky to gain their trust now. “Please don’t try anything while we talk. I don’t wish you I’ll will either, but I will have to stop you if you try something.”The priest nodded to Sal and stepped outside the room but had the door open to where he could still see all of the prisoners.

"Don't worry, they're on camera," Sal whispered to Michael, and showed Michael his slate, which had an active feed to the camera in his new cane. He placed it well out of the reach of the bound hunters, with the camera and mic pointed at them and walked far enough to ensure they couldn't eavesdrop, and begun talking quietly, never taking his eyes off the screen, "Apologies. I'm not used to dealing with zealots. I didn't expect them to just... shut down, when they heard about their wounds. Now, the ones who still have eyes, I may be able to give them... memories that are easier to live with, but I can do nothing for Voscal. Of course, I'm not sure what kind of memories would make a permanent Stigmata and a missing eye easier to live with. I don't want any part in killing helpless people, no matter how much they hate me... but is leaving them in this state any better?"

Michael considers the options. The leader was the issue. He could get him to sweat an oath for his silence, but it wouldn’t completely prevent him from talking. “If he swears an oath, I can reinforce it with threads of fate if he breaks it. It won’t silence him just hinder him the rest of his life. He may still be helpful depending how he takes my next offer.”

Sal continued to watch the screen. Speaking in a defeated tone, he says, "I can't honestly say I wasn't worried about him, as well. The laws of the Kindred require me to ensure he is silent, but the only things I know will work, threaten to erode my humanity. If you can't get him to cooperate, maybe Noah or one the others can think of another way."

Mistral had never been a nurturing, caregiving sort, and that fact was on painful display now in this basement full of severely maltreated former prisoners.  She did desire for them to get better and be free, but she did not know how nor desire to help them herself.  She had removed them from captivity, provided sustenance, and brought in a doctor.  That all counted for something, didn't it?  It didn't feel like enough.

Just as Mistral pondered this, she was shocked to sudden attentiveness by some far-distant stimuli that was outside the awareness of anybody else present.  She sat bolt upright and took a sharp intake of breath, then said quietly to Noah, "There is a matter I must attend to.  I will remain here in part, but I may be... préoccupée."

With that, Mistral closed her eyes and diverted the majority of her multi-spatial attentions elsewhere.

After a lengthy pause with eyes shut, Mistral murmured, "We must check in on Talion..."

Another pause, and she added succinctly, "Stygia burns with aetheric fire."

Michael nodded to Sal and head back into the room with the Hunters. “Well we don’t want to kill you. I don’t know enough about your wounds to say whether or not they will ever fully heal. If you want to end your own lives, I will not stop you. There is a chance that you could still be of use to the order if you are willing to trust my intentions and hear my offer. The choice is yours.”The priest takes the knife out of his boot and tosses it at the feet of the eyeless leader.

 Voscal tilted his head and looked in the direction of the clatter, reaching out with wounded hands and feeling for the knife. He took it in his hands and stared at it without eyes. "Let us hear what you have to say."

Noah perked up when Mistral spoke up. "I evacuated his body to the reactor but his presence wasn't in it. So where would he be now that we can check up on him? The observatory with Atlas? I can send out a ping on the network but that is going to ping all his bodies."

"Where you wanna go?"