Liam smiled. "Shout if you need anything," he said, turning towards the door and adjusting the dimmer on the way out. A shower sounded like a half decent idea, though he'd lost most of his clothes again the night before and was largely left with only the threads that had accompanied him back from Bergen. One of these days he was going to own a wardrobe again, but it was not tonight.

Twenty minutes later he made his way up the stairs and into the house proper in search of Caleb and whatever company he could find.

Caleb was nowhere to be found indoors. There was a hamper full of towels (seriously, why did Robyn own that many towels?) in the bathroom. Liam managed to snag the last clean one. She was out of shampoo, and the hot water didn't last either. Caleb was nowhere to be found in the house. However, the sound of his barks was what led Liam to the settlement.

It wasn't far from the house, just past a thicket of lilac trees. It occurred to Liam that he'd never asked her just how far the property extended. The yurt was spacious enough to comfortable house a dozen. Unfortunately, there were at least 15 by Liam's estimation. Some had been unable to move, and he wondered just how many of them were too far gone in the conversion process from human being to mind-controlling blood factory. Certainly many of them had been nursing fresh lacerations from carved incantations.

Those who could fit Robyn's hoodies or Jack's old flannels were dressed, and a few of them bore Mik's silk ponchos. A pair were on the far side of the yurt, digging a hole for a latrine, with a third supervising. The group's youngest (early 20s, by Liam's estimation) was playing a rousing game of fetch with Caleb. She was sporting a fresh buzz cut. A large group was sitting around a campfire. It looked like it had been going all afternoon. A woman was playing one of Jack's acoustic guitars.

One of the group at the campfire spied Liam approaching, and murmured something about a vampire. A silence spread quickly through the camp. One of the abilities they had apparently retained from their ordeals was an innate ability to recognize his kind.

The kid quickly abandoned the game of fetch, and dashed over to the group. Caleb looked at them awkwardly, not understanding the source of their sudden apprehension. He came over to greet Liam. He jumped up ecstatically, clearly overstimulated.

Moments later, a member of the group stood, and walked over to Liam. She was an older woman, mid-fifties. She squinted at him, bleary-eyed. The Tremere had not even allowed her to retain her glasses. "You must be Liam," she said. "Robyn told us about you."

Liam nodded. "I am indeed," he said. "Hello, everyone. Hello, Caleb," he said, reaching down to stroke the dog. "I hope he hasn't been bothering anyone. He's not used to being around this many people."

"May I join you?"

The group tensed visibly. The woman didn't even need to look back to know the answer. "I think that may be a little soon," she said. "I hope you don't take offense to that. Most of them have witnessed nothing but horrors at the hands of your people. It will take time to build trust."

She held out a hand. "Joyce Cohen, by the way."

"That's understandable."

Liam took her hand and shook. "Liam O'Farrell," he said. "Pleased to meet you, Joyce."

"If you'd like my help with building their trust, I do have a few ideas," Joyce said helpfully. "Judging from last night you're not averse to risk. They are-"

"Yo," a booming voice said, interrupting her. The man supervising the latrines had taken a break from not helping to walk over and greet Liam. He was heavy-set, suggesting that he had come a ways in four months of vampire austerity. His face was beet red, and he had on his best salesman's smile. He grabbed Liam's hand and shook it, trying his best to squeeze impressively. "You must be the man in charge. Brad Hawkins, pleasure to meet you."

Liam’s full attention had been given to Joyce so he was somewhat surprised when Brad made his introductions. “Um, hello Brad,” he said, shaking the new fellow’s hand instinctively. “Liam. Pleased to meet you as well, though I’m hardly in charge. This is Robyn’s house.“

He could understand Robyn’s reaction at once, and was considerably more interested in hearing from Joyce at the moment.

“Could I - I was just getting to meet Joyce. Could you give me a few minutes?”

"Oh, sure, sure," Brad said. "Don't talk his ear off, doc. I wanna bend it too." He guffawed and took a step back, listening in.

"As I was saying," Joyce said, putting on her best diplomatic deadpan. "Many of them have families that are still captive. Given the events of last night, I can understand if you're not able to help right now. I won't tell you how to prioritize, but it would let them know that you prioritize them."

Brad opened his mouth to interject again, but settled for clearing his throat.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:11, Wed 08 July 2020.

Liam nodded and pursed his lips. "After last night the whole city will be on alert. It would be too dangerous for anyone I tried to bring out. But I hear you. I'll see what I can do... Doctor Cohen, is it?"

"Doctor of Psychology, yes," Joyce said. "I imagine things are complicated out there. From what I gather from your companion, we were not the targets of your efforts last night. We're very grateful for what you both did. Those people need stopping."

Brad fidgeted. He was not used to having to wait to speak.

"Yes they do," Liam concurred. "We've been waging a lopsided war of attrition for the past decade. Last night was a big victory, but we have a long way to go. For the first time in a long time though I think we really stand a chance."

Liam smiled and turned to face Brad after a moment.

"Yes, Brad, I can see you've got something weighing on your mind. Lets hear it," he said with a friendly beckons of his hand.

"Thanks, Liam," Brad said. "Lemme just say, no disrespect to the doc, before we can think about moving anyone in, we need to think about getting some folks out. Most of us want to stay and fight, but we have a couple people with families out of province who want to run, and a few folks who we really aren't set up to take care of. It's pretty tight back there as it is, and until we can get something permanent built here, it's going to be hard living."

Liam nodded. Brad wasn't wrong at all. He glanced at the Yurt and the latrines still being dug out. It was hard to imagine adding more people to the camp without it falling apart at the seams.

"I can help get people out if that's what they want, but not tonight. You can guarantee the roads will be watched."

"Tell me about the ones in bad shape. What would we need to tide them over until we can get them out safely?"

"We did all we could this afternoon," Joyce said. "We've got three people that won't wake up, but we're managing to keep them hydrated. We've got one refusing food, but I'm trying to bring her around."

"She was in bad shape before they started cutting on us," Brad added. "No idea what they were doing to her, but she's a wreck."

"I recognise you're all just getting to know each other so you might not know, but does anyone have any formal medical training?" Liam asked.

Joyce shook her head. "We checked," she said. "No doctors or nurses. Grace is a Veterinary student, so that's something at least."

"We also have a retired plumber and an accountant who they had doing their books, but that's it," Brad added.

“Can Grace start an IV if I can wrangle up the supplies?” Liam asked. “Wait, did you say their books? As in the Camarilla’s?” That was valuable information. Knowing where the money was hidden could help to break them.

"Yep," Brad said. "Won't shut up about 'em." He pointed at the bald, middle-aged man by the campfire. "Herb Muller."

“That’s... potentially very useful information,” Liam said after a moment. “In the hands of the right people we could squeeze them hard.”

Liam shook his head. “Something for another night, but Let Herb know I’d like to talk whenever he’s ready.”

“I understand you went shopping with Robyn during the day. If you can give me a list of supplies you’re having trouble getting your hands on I’ll see what I can do to source them. I don’t have a lot of friends in the city any more, but the ones I do have are very resourceful.”

"I'll do you one better," Brad said. "I can tell you where we can get everything we need. My cousin runs a prefab housing business just outside Riverhead. Mind you it's been a while since I've been in touch, but last I checked he had houses, septics, a couple heavy loaders and even a backhoe. The real trick is getting it all here without a fuss."

“Hasan can move it. He got you out of the city in the middle of a lockdown on an armoured bus.” Liam hoped this was the case anyway. “Might take some time to coordinate, so let’s not pack away the yurt just yet. And Robyn has to sign off on it. This is still her home.”

Liam looked over the huddled survivors. He had a fair guess that Robyn would say ‘yes’.

“Do you two have questions for me?” He asked. “You or any of the others?”

Brad shook his head. Joyce thought about it for a moment, and then asked "May I ask why you're helping us overthrow your own people?"

Liam scrubbed his fingers through his newly grown hair and left his hand resting on the back of his neck. “I suppose that’s the big question, isn’t it?” he said with a hint of a smile.

“Look, Vampires have always warred amongst ourselves. That in itself is nothing new. We aren’t some great cultural monolith, because ultimately we are a reflection of humanity. I don’t know how much you know and how much you don’t, so stop me if I’m going over old news here.”

Liam paused and patted down his pockets. His cigarette carton was running low, the last few rattled inside as he pulled out the box.

“Do you mind?” he asked, taking one out. Presuming no objections he offered the remainder to his audience should they wish. “Bad habit, I know,” he said apologetically.

“Where was I? Oh yes. We may all be Vampires but we’re not one people. All of us were human once. I didn’t pick the name O’Farrell and affect an Irish accent because I like the way it sounds. I was born there. In Cavan county in 1896. I had a mother. A father. Siblings. A wife. I even had a son.”

“When you become a Vampire, when you get Embraced, as we call it, your life becomes a struggle between a - a Beast that knows only instinct and whatever remains of your humanity. That’s a tightrope I have walked for over a hundred years, and I still try to hold onto my humanity every night. Those Nazis in the city - they were Beasts to begin with. They were beasts when they were humans. They had no where else to fall.”

“Since the Inquisition - that would be the Spanish one beginning in the late fourteen hundreds," Liam noted, feeling something like an arm chair history professor. "The abiding conflict had been between those families and bloodlines that would prefer to keep us a secret from the world and those that desired to not only live openly but also seize the reigns of power. Others kept clear of the dispute and there were plenty of other things to squabble over but that was the gist of it."

"I didn't much care for politics, either before my Embrace or after. I was okay with living in secrecy. I'd convinced myself it was better than the alternative. Perhaps that's cowardice. I don't know."

"But this..." Liam waved his hand vaguely in the direction of Verdant Falls. "This is something else. This I can't and won't abide. And if bringing it crashing down means that the world will finally learn the truth of what's out there, I think its time."

Brad joined him, but Joyce did not. They both listened intently as Liam spoke. When he was finished, Joyce nodded. "That... Is a pretty thorough explanation. I had no idea vampire society was so nuanced."

"Wait a minute," Brad said. "Those dudes are actual Nazis? Like, from World War Two?"

Liam smiled. "That's the Cole's Notes version," he replied. "Vampire history is just as detailed and nuanced as any human society and many of us have had the benefit of living through it. I've been kicking around over a hundred and twenty years, but both Jacob and Hasan were born into a world I've only read about."

"And yes," Liam said, turning to address Brad. "The Camarilla embraced an entire division of the Waffen-SS in the 40s. Ruthless, efficient and zealously loyal, Hitler had already done the work of training them. They were just put to work under a new master."

"That's true of the older ones anyway. This war of attrition hasn't been kind to them either. Many of the Red Watch you see out on the streets these nights are younger. Home grown, presumably. The Camarilla has a whole captive city to farm recruits."