>>2015872
Oh, and Welcome Back: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iW1jxJ6ISks

>>2015872
>Sleep here

>>2015872
>Sleep here

>>2015872
>sleep in own room
Fuck you mansion, I need my own space so I can do my pre-sleep jerkdown ritual without feeling like dad's watching.

>>2015899
>>2015902
You are the Lord Sokolov. It is no use moping and mourning for your father's passing. You change into your pajamas and climb into the bed. The bright moonlight ripples over your head.

It's been a long day...

+++

Your eyes open in a richly decorated business room. You are seated in a comfortable chair, in front of a desk made of mahogany. A clock sits in one corner of the room, ticking. Its hands do not move.

A figure appears in the chair across the desk. You try to study its features, but all you can make out is a plastic salesman's smile.

"Greetings, Lord Sokolov," the figure says. Its voice is ungendered and sickly sweet, like a candy lure. "I'm overjoyed to meet you."

>Where am I?
>Who are you?
>What do you want?
>Release me. Now.
>Other (write-in)

>>2015938
>What do you want?

>>2015938
>The fuck you want from me, bitch nugga?

>>2015938
>>Who are you?

>>2015938

>What do you want?

>>2015938
>>What do you want?

>>2015938
"You didn't bring me here idly, I assume. What do you want from me?"

The smile, somehow, gets sweeter and less sincere.

"Astute and direct. Your father was much the same."

The smile shifts slightly.

"I am an... outside observer. A neutral party."

You frown.

"You still haven't told me what you want."

The figure laughs, and you flinch at the sound. It calls up images of babbling streams, meadows in summer, blue skies, smiling faces. Yet, underneath, there's a hint of something menacing. It's not unlike the feeling of watching a propaganda video - there is a motive to the joy, and it doesn't actually have your best interests at heart.

"Perceptive, too. I've taken a special interest in the Sokolovs... especially you." Its grin grows wider.

"I do not interfere - or even reveal myself - very often. You should feel honored!"

You do not feel honored.

"You're still dodging the question," you say testily.

The grin shrinks.

"Alright, I'll be forward with you!"

The smile is gone.

"I want entertainment. Entertain me enough, and there will be... benefits." With the last word, the smile returns.

>Benefits?
>This is kind of you. I would like to know the name of my new friend.
>This is kind of you, but I don't work for sport.
>Other (write-in)

>>2016353
>Benefits?

>>2016353
>>This is kind of you, but I don't work for sport.

>>2016353
>>Benefits?
>>This is kind of you. I would like to know the name of my new friend.

>>2016353
>Benefits?
>>This is kind of you. I would like to know the name of my new friend

>>2016391
>>2016421
>Benefits?
>I would like to know the name of my new friend.

"This is kind of you. First, what is your name? I would like to know my new... friend."

The smile extends beyond where you believe its face should end.

"I am older than names, but mortal men tend to call me... Fate. Yes, that shall do. I am Fate."

Out of pure reflex, you extend your arm for a handshake. You get the sensation of its return, though you don't actually feel your arm move.

"Nice to meet you... Fate."

Fate laughs again, and you shiver at the dark undertone of it.

"Most men aren't so happy to meet their Fate."

You laugh, nervously.

"You mentioned... benefits?"

The grin assumes some form of slyness.

"Having Fate on your side is powerful. You'll see, in time."

The clock chimes, suddenly. Surprised, you look over. It reads 7, though it read 11 not five minutes before.

"Time to go, Sokolov," Fate says, with that omnipresent grin. "Wouldn't want to keep you from the waking world. We'll meet again."

Grinning back, you say: "I'll look forward to it."

+++

Your eyes open in your bed. You turn over, checking the clock next to your bed. 7:15. Yawning, you sit up and stretch. The schedule is blank, so you have some flexibility.

You could...

>Train with your chosen weapons
>Study the occult
>Tour the Kennels
>Take a walk around the estate
>Timeskip until the Moscow safehouse mission
>Other (write-in)
It's 7:30. You have 15 hours before you should close your day.

>>2016478
>Train with chosen weapons

>>2016478
>>Train with your chosen weapons

>>2016478
>Train with your chosen weapons

>>2016490
>>2016498
>>2016552
You decide to learn how to use your weapons. Who do you want to train with?

>Bas
>Maddy
>A Jaeger?
>Have Bas recommend someone
>Just practice on your own
>Other (write-in)

>>2016585
>>Have Bas recommend someone

>>2016585
>Have Bas recommend someone

>>2016585
>>Have Bas recommend someone

>>2016595
>>2016599
>>2016686
Bas probably knows better than you who'd be the best trainer. You call him on the intercom. He picks up on the third ring.

"Good morning, sir! What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering who'd be a good trainer. I need to get familiar with my new weapons"

"I can think of two off the top of my head. Braut, a Jaeger, is my best man in hand-to-hand combat. Lana, a werewolf, is one of our better marksmen. Of course, you won't find anyone on the estate as good a gunslinger as I am. Who do you want?"

>Braut (hand-to-hand/melee)
>Lana (ranged)
>Bas (one-handed ranged)
>Nevermind, I'll practice on my own
>Other (write-in)

>>2016838
>>Lana (ranged)

>>2016838
>>Braut (hand-to-hand/melee)

>>2016838
>>Lana (ranged)

>>2016838
>Braut (hand-to-hand/melee)

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>2016842
>>2016869
>>2016877
>>2016901
1 for Lana, 2 for Braut

>>2016838
>>Lana (ranged)

"Schedule Lana for the range after breakfast."

"Yes sir. Hey, Lan-" The intercom goes silent.

You get dressed - not in a suit, today, just jeans and a tee - and eat a quiet breakfast (apart from Blume's singing in German, which is actually quite pleasant). You check on your sister - still bedridden - and take a short walk through some of the more scenic parts of the Manor, like the mountain overlook room, looking out over the Caucasus Range.

It's 9:30 when you arrive at the shooting range, weapon in your shoulder holster. A woman is standing at one of the stalls, practicing with a variety of weapons. As you watch, she bullseyes six moving targets in three seconds. Woah.

>Interrupt
>Wait until she pauses
>Just watch until she notices you
>Other (write-in)

>>2017267
>>Other (write-in)
Do a final check on the pistol while you wait for her to notice.

>>2017267
>>Wait until she pauses

>>2017267
Supporting >>2017285

>>2017285
>>2017333 Trips

You examine your weapon as you wait for her to finish, getting a feel for the weight, the reload action, everything that comes without firing the gun. It feels more natural in your hand by the time Lana notices you.

Lana sets her weapon down - you notice the barrel always points down the range - and stretches, twisting her torso as she does. It's then that she notices you, and easily snaps into a salute.

"Hello, Lord Sokolov. Excuse the wait, please."

You smile.

"Wait excused. It was very enthralling."

"Thank you, sir. I understand I'm to tutor you in the handling of firearms today?"

"Yes, specifically with this," you say, indicating your safety-ed pistol. "I need to be ready for Moscow."

She studies the weapon for a moment.

"I'm assuming you know the 4 commandments of firearm safety?"

>Yes, they're... (write-in)

>>2017912
>Yes, they're... (write-in)
Pretty sure two are Never Aim at something you don't plan to kill, always keep your safety on unless you plan to use the gun and maybe don't keep a bullet in the chamber because even though it feels cool while giving you an extra shot, It'll probably discharge if you rattle it but I think that's more common sense.

Why are you asking this? People could just google it and give you the answer

>>2017912
Watch that muzzle! Keep it pointed in a safe direction at all times.

Treat every firearm with the respect due a loaded gun

Be sure of the target and what is in front of it and beyond it

Keep your finger outside the trigger guard until ready to shoo

>>2017952
There it is, God bless google am I right?

>>2017946
Because I wanted to push an update.

"First is... never point the weapon at something you aren't comfortable with destroying. Second is always treat every weapon as if the safety is off and it is loaded. Third... be aware of your target and everything beyond it. Finally, finger off the trigger until ready to shoot."

She nods.

"You've picked up the basics, but that hesitation tells me you need them drilled into you, with all due respect, sir. Now, load your weapon, step to the stall, and mount a target. Take it out to 10 yards and shoot. Before that, though, put these on, sir," she finishes, handing you a pair of ballistic earmuffs.

You follow instructions. Lana simply hangs back and watches you fumble slightly with the paper target. You move it out to ten yards, get into a ready stance, arm the weapon, and fire...

>1d20-2

Rolled 8 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2017982

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>2017982

Rolled 15 - 2 (1d20 - 2)

>>2017982

Rolled 7 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2017982

>>2018014
>>2018016
>13, barely

You fire, flinching at the noise and recoil. You hit the edge, on the whitespace outside the target. When Lana makes no move to stop you, you fire until your weapon is empty. You hit the target twice out of seven shots, reasonably close together.

Lana brings the target back. She examines it, then looks downrange for something you can't see.

"Is this your first time working with firearms?"

>No, you were athletic and interested in the sport of it
>Yes, you were a bookworm and never really got out much
>No, you felt that the best way to view the mythical world was down the barrel of a gun
>Yes, you felt that it was best if your enemies dropped dead of, say, witchcraft
>No, but you've always preferred blades to bullets.

No write-ins because this sets your character's attributes and affinities

>>2018147
>>Yes, you felt that it was best if your enemies dropped dead of, say, witchcraft

>>2018147
>Yes, you were a bookworm and never really got out much

>>2018147
>No, but you've always preferred blades to bullets.

>>2018149
Changing this vote

>>2018153
>>Yes, you were a bookworm and never really got out much

Since this got a vote I'm changing to this

>>2018147
Answer key for those disinclined to extrapolate:

>Athletic: physical focus
>Bookworm: mental focus
>Barrel of a gun: weapon focus
>Witchcraft: um
>Blades to bullets: Demonic power focus

>>2018159
>>No, but you've always preferred blades to bullets.
Master swordsmanship can come in handy

>>2018147
>Yes, you were a bookworm and never really got out much

>>2018147
>>Yes, you were a bookworm and never really got out much

>>2018147
>No, but you've always preferred blades to bullets

>Bookworm, by one vote

Character sheet: https://pastebin.com/hBKyuReA

"Yes. I was always a bookworm, never did much physical stuff."

Lana smiles slightly.

"Well, I've got good news and bad news. You don't have any bad habits..."

You grin, optimistic...

"But you don't have any good habits, either."

Your grin falters. Lana laughs, boisterous and loud in the open air.

"Don't worry, Lord; *I* teach you the good habits!"

She moves up close, and starts miming shooting.

"Now, your first problem - it's common for newbies - is that you *expect* more recoil than the gun actually has..."

>1d20 + 3

Rolled 16 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>2018464

Rolled 13 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>2018464

Rolled 11 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>2018464

Rolled 18 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>2018464

>>2018465
>19
>>2018486
Gotta be quicker on the draw.

Training goes well. Lana is kind, but stern when you do something wrong. You manage to tighten your spread, though you still have trouble with moving targets. You feel that with consistent practice, you could excel in this field.

Training, however, eats up most of your day. You check on your sister for lunch and dinner, and, when all is said and done, head to bed. Lying in the expansive room, staring at the ceiling fresco (tonight a brace of what you think are Swedish musketeers firing at Russian troops) you think on the week to come. You could continue training with Lana exclusively, or you could mix in melee training with the Jaeger, Braun. Alternately, you could devote the week to study of the Occult.

>Train ranged
>Train melee
>Train mixed
>Study
>Other (write-in)

Last post for tonight. Unless y'all pick an option that involves Braun, we're timeskipping the week.

>>2018526
>>Study Occult

>>2018526
Braun and if we have time Lena

>>2018526
>Study

Either try to search the library to find a book about magic or failing that study up on supernaturals and their strengths and weaknesses

>>2018526
>Study

>>2018535
>>2018565
>>2018867
Monsters, Witches, Demons, etc. are called Mythics.

You decide that you won't be much use in a fight, and, for now at least, you can rely on bodyguards to keep you safe. You'll schedule more personal combat sessions at a later time; for now, you need to study.

The following week you plan to spend mostly in the Grand Library or your study. However, there's the question of which aspect of the Occult to focus on...

>Witchcraft, Wizardry, Ritual, and other forms of Magic
>Alters, Cryptids, and other Monstrous creatures
>Demonology, Sorcery, Hell, and other Unholy powers
>Cosmology, Theology, and other Workings of the Universe
>The Great Houses, the hierarchy of the mortal world, and the history of the Underworld
>Other (write-in)
Pick three.

>>2019855
>Cosmology (smiley no face muhfugga)
>Demonology
>Alters, cryptids (ought to know what our own guys can do.)

>>2019855
>Cosmology (smiley no face muhfugga)
>Demonology
>Alters, cryptids (ought to know what our own guys can do.)

I can support this

>>2019910
>>2019855
This

>>2019910
>>2019916
>>2019945
>Cosmology, Demonology, and Monsters

>1d20 + 3

Rolled 8 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>2020002

Rolled 1 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>2020002

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>2020002

>>2020130
>13, barely

You study intensely over the next week. Unfortunately, in your zealousness, you burn yourself out. You make very little headway on anything except cosmology.

Major deities are an uncommon sight, even for the Lords of Great Houses, but when they appear, they don't often take kindly to the mortal masters of the Underworld. They command great forces, and are fueled by the power of their followers. More followers means more power.

Minor deities, on the other hand, are exceedingly common, as "worship" doesn't even need to be conscious. There are gods of the TV, gods of the highways, gods of cars, gods of games, all present upon the Earth. Many of these gods are willing to bargain and deal with the Houses, in return for being left alone.

There are regulatory bodies that act upon the theological world, and these include some sort of Court. Besides its existence, you don't learn much about it besides its apparent power and ability to keep the gods restrained.

You don't find anything on "Fate," besides certain gods of fate and fortune which don't even closely resemble the being you encountered.

"Hell" combines all the hells of every religion; most of those consigned to it see it as their own personal Hell, what they've made it out to be. Only a few tales of escape from Hell are present in the books you have, but you know it to be possible. More information is probably available if you try reading up on Demonology and the Unholy again.

Friday, October 20th, 2017 passes. The Family's finances update:
Your bank reserves are now at 165,070,450 USD.
There are no other changes.

It is now Monday, October 23rd. Bas reports that the teams are ready to move out. You could consult with him on your taskforce, or you could just launch the raid already.

>Examine team loadout and composition
>Just go to Moscow
>Postpone the raid (give a damn good reason)
>Other (write-in)

>>2020482
>Just go to Moscow

>>2020482
>>Just go to Moscow

>>2020482
>Examine team loadout and composition

>>2020528
>>2020535
Mrs. Brunsfeld takes you in the car to the airfield, while Bas and his crew ride in a convoy in front of you. You're taking two squads, eight werewolves and two Jaegers, along with Bas and yourself.

It's a long drive to the airfield; the Manor has its own, of course, but the Family jet is at a different one for repairs and maintenance. Stepping out of the car, the bright sun assaults your eyes, hidden though they are behind sunglasses. You settle into the jet quickly, after Bas and his team checks it. The interior is luxurious, with comfortable chairs, couches, and even a personal study-stroke-bedroom. You have options for the flight...

>Hang out with the soldiers
>Study
>Sleep (timeskip)
>Other (write-in)

>>2020834
>>Study

>>2020834
>>Hang out with the soldiers
Try and increase morale.

>>2020834
>Hang out with the soldiers

>>2020963
Second

>>2020834
>>>Hang out with the soldiers

>Hang out with the soldiers

You decide spending time with the troops wouldn't go remiss. You sit in one of the chairs where they've made their circle. There are the salutes you've come to expect, and the noise they've been making hushes slightly.

>Watch the group dynamic
>Introduce yourself
>Leave
>Other (write-in)

>>2021069
>Introduce yourself
We should make it clear that you can be an effective leader. However, I don't really know how we can do that without making it look like we're trying to break out of our father's shadow. If anyone knows how we can avoid this, post it.

>>2021069
>Introduce yourself

>>2021069
>>Watch the group dynamic
they're soldiers and we're basically a bean counter, can't even shoot good yet.
just embarrassing ourselves

>>2021098
>>2021106
"Well, I assume you all know me," you say dryly. "But, for the sake of formality, I'm Lord Alexei Sokolov. I know Lieutenant Teller. The rest of you, may I have your names?"

They go around in a circle. The two Jaegers are Gunter and Caroline. They introduce themselves in the near-incomprehensible, exaggerated German accents common to all Jaegers. They both have a light-green skin tone, and seem incredibly jovial if a little unsophisticated in language. The werewolves delineate themselves in two squads: Ram and Trebuchet. Both Jaegers are assigned to Ram, while Trebuchet is made up of six werewolves. The wolves of Ram are Roger, Nina, Grace, and Fred. The wolves of Trebuchet are Tam, Mary, Steven, Walter, Greg, and Austin.

Like usual, as the conversation continues, the group warms to you. The Jaegers crack utterly filthy jokes, which Bas looks offended at on your behalf. Nina starts a game of UNO! which ends in your skin-of-the-teeth victory against Caroline.

"Mozzerfhacker!" she shouts as the last card leaves your hand. "Ah, sorry, sir," she says a second later, a bit embarrassed.

With that, you notice that you still feel a bit outside the fold. The troops are friendly to you, but you observe that they're definitely much less comfortable with you than with themselves. You feel that's to be expected. You're new to this group; to all of the Sokolov forces, really. You can't expect them to accept you instantly.

The plane touches down in Moscow in the middle of the night. Your car is waiting on the tarmac, along with Ram and Trebuchet's vans. Its about 20 minutes to the hotel. There are very few cars on the road. The route takes you into the heart of the city, passing by the Kremlin and Lenin's Mausoleum.

You fall asleep quite easily in the penthouse suite, exhausted from the long days of travel...

And awake the following morning. Thankfully, no eldritch being accosted you in the night. You take breakfast in the dining hall, discussing the plan with Bas.

"So, Trebuchet will set up on the roof of this building here, while Ram stays in their van outside the front of the facility. I will be with you when you enter the facility..."

>Cont.

>>2021500
After breakfast, you all get in the cars and take separate routes to the safehouse. It's on the outskirts of Moscow, and looks for all the world like a large warehouse. You suspect, however, that there are more than just a few crates of vodka being routed through here. All three cars arrive more or less at the same time, with Ram being last. They don't shoot on sight, so you've got that going for you, at least.

You walk into the office building like you own the place, which you technically do. The receptionist looks up with a painted smile. "Шaгoхoд Шиппинг" is lettered over her head, in bold silver text.

>Say outright who you are
>Say you're here for a deal
>Try the Sokolov safehouse code phrases
>Other (write-in)

>>2022280
>code phrases

>>2022280

>Try the Sokolov safehouse code phrases

>>2022280
>Try the Sokolov safehouse code phrase

>>2022290
>>2022450
>>2022462

"[Greetings, miss,]" you say in Russian. "[Where can I inquire about the most recent invoice of this facilities Alaskan exports?]"

The girl's face falls.

"[Sokolov! You're from House Sokolov!]"

"[Yes, I am,]" you agree. "[And the fact that you shouted that out loud means that either you just alerted some security force, implying your collusion with our enemies and intent to kill me...]"

She shakes her head vigorously. You hear Ram's comm chatter, readying for imminent breach.

"[Or you believed me dead along with my father, and you are genuinely shocked at my survival and subsequent return.]"

Her eyes widen further.

"[You are the new Lord Sokolov?]"

You give a wry smile. "[Of course. And you are girl who wastes my time. Who is running this facility?]"

She starts, and picks up the phone rather hurriedly.

"[Paging Miss Petrov, paging Miss Petrov. There's a...a Mister Sokolov here to see you.]"

There's some frantic shouting through the phone. The receptionist winces.

"[Yes, that Mr. Sokolov. He's waiting, Miss.]"

There's a click from the other end, and she hangs up. Seemingly by force of habit, she smiles up at you and says:

"Miss Petrov will be with you shortly."

>Bring in the assault team
>Tell the assault team to stand down
>Other (write-in)

>>2022646
>>Other (write-in)
Just bring Bas in since we can trust him to be professional while being a good fighter

Or maybe just Either Ram or Trebuchet squad while another waits outside to strike if things go down.

I'm good with either of these options

>>2022646
Supporting >>2022676

>>2022676
yes. I agree

>>2022742
Uhh I pointed out two options, Could both of you clarify just to be clear to OP?

>>2022676
>>2022690
>>2022742
If you recall >>2021500 (specifically the ending) you'll remember Bas is already with you. Specify which team you want.
>>2022751
Please, the name's OJ.

>>2022764
Ram is already outside any way

>>2022764
So hang on, we're bringing in an assault team but we don't want to assault? Right. That makes a ton of sense.
>Just wait, we haven't seen anything indicating that we're safe or in danger.

>>2022819
If we're gonna do this and bring in one of the teams as bodyguards or whatever this is anons have voted for, I vote that it's Ram. Ram, apart from being made up of two Jaegers as well, who, from memory, massively outclass Werewolves and a lot of other stuff in close combat, probably has four 'assault specialist' werewolves, while Trebuchet likely has more sniper-y werewolves. That's my guess, anyway.

>>2022857
Correct. Trebuchet is currently stationed to provide fire support from the roof of a neighboring building. Ram is specialized for CQC in an urban setting. Also, Jaegers are incredibly strong, fast, and tough, though less intelligent than werewolves or humans. They are also difficult to locate or produce.

More options:

>Bring in Ram as a show of force.
>Wait for a more... effective moment to bring Ram in.
>Tell both teams to stand down.
>Other (write-in)

>>2022878
>Wait for a more... effective moment to bring Ram in.
I hope we only have a button to press to bring in Ram instead of us having to use a walkie talkie. That shit takes too long. Hint Hint

>>2022878
Thanks for the info OJ.

>Wait for a more... effective moment to bring Ram in.

>>2022887
I'd just have you say a retconned codephrase, no big.
>>2022888
You're welcome. Also nice trips.

>>2022887
This, especially the quick deployment part

You decide to hold off Ram's entrance until it's more... effective.

"Miss Petrov" arrives after two minutes. She seems calm and collected, but years of diplomatic training easily pick out that she's incredibly stressed. She's about 5'8, with blonde hair - dyed, you note - wearing a pinstripe business dress and high heels. She has a Sokolov earring, golden instead of silver, meaning that she's a werewolf. Her brown eyes dart around the room, glancing over you, Bas - who's smiling his usual irreverent smile - and out the window at Ram's van.

Her eyes settle back on you.

"[Hello, Lord Sokolov,]" she says with strained ease. "[To what do we owe the pleasure?]"

>I have come to reclaim what belongs to House Sokolov.
>I have come to inquire as to your abandonment of House Sokolov.
>I have come to check in on this safehouse.
>Other (write-in)

>>2022932
>I am here to check in on this safehouse.
No reason to accuse her of anything yet, right?

>>2022932
>I have come to check in on this safehouse.

>>2022932
"[I've simply come to run a routine checkup on this safehouse. I trust you were only following Protocol Smoke Signal?]"

Relieved that you're offering her an out, Petrov nods eagerly.

"[Of course sir, this safehouse only went to ground to avoid retaliation from the hostile party that cut communications. Now that we've received confirmation that House Sokolov stands, we'll resume regular reports.]"

"[That's just swell, Ms. Petrov. Now...]"

>I'll be taking my leave.
>I'd like a tour of the facility.
>Other (write-in)

>>2023023
>I'd like a tour of the facility.

>>2023023
>>I'd like a tour of the facility

>>2023023
"[...I'd like to tour the facility,]" you say. With a definitely forced smile, Petrov gestures behind her.

"[If you'll just follow me this way, sir, I'd be happy to guide you.]"

You nod graciously, then, with a malicious smile, say:

"[I hope you don't mind me bringing a party of six.]" At that moment, Ram slams the door open, and the fireteam streams in, taking up positions behind you. Petrov looks like she's about to staple her smile to her cheeks. After a "Klear!" from the leader - Gunter, you note from the voice - the team relaxes and falls into step behind you as Petrov - nearly in tears, the poor woman - leads you into the facility.

Past the lobby, it looks exactly like what it seems from the outside - a corridor with offices and doors leading to storage areas, janitorial closets, and loading docks. However, Petrov opens a door, and demonstrates that every office converts easily into a small two person room. There's space for about forty people here. Petrov tells you the loading docks don't have anything special, but Storage 12 is actually the armory, 13 is where they keep untamed monsters, and 14 is where they keep illicit materials. They have two garages, one for the standard vehicles they need to maintain their cover, and the other for... less standard vehicles. Including...

"Iz dat a T-90 MBT?!" Caroline shouts excitedly.

"Yes, it is," Petrov says wearily, in a heavy accent of her own. "And no, you can't drive it."

The second floor is much more what you'd expect from a Sokolov safehouse; it isn't incredibly upscale, like the Manor or even the Kennels, but it's perhaps what you'd expect from a three-star hotel. There are much more permanent rooms here, along with a rec room, restrooms, mess, and what Petrov calls "the brig."

There's also a "penthouse" suite, which is just a very nice room for visiting Sokolovs.

There's a garrison of 40 werewolves here, including Petrov. The receptionist is just a regular girl under geas. There's also the T-90, as well as some transport trucks and vans.

You could stay the night here or go back to the hotel.

>Here
>Hotel
>Other (write-in)

>>2024322
>>Here

>>2024322
>Here
We're supposedly safer here, and our bodyguards would cause less of a public incident if shit went down. From the way this is being written, we're 100% gonna get attacked by something tonight. With luck, we'll be able to defend ourselves with the help of our new Russian "allies". If they attack us, we're kind of fooked, but they would still use the same force as they would at the hotel so if anything we save a few hundred bucks.

>>2024343
Um, what implies that something's gonna attack you tonight?

>>2024322
>stay here

You make the arrangements, have your few travel supplies brought from the hotel, and settle in after dinner. You only celebrate with one small shot of vodka, but you still go out like a light at 10pm...
+++
You wake up in a cottage. Deep red sunset light shines through the window above you. You lie in a small cot tucked in the corner, in your pajamas. Cold air whistles through the open windows, piercing through the meager warmth provided by the fire a few feet from you. A pot whistles on the stovetop above it. A door is set in the wall across from you.

Something about the way the room seems to... sway... puts you off.

>Get up and look through a window
>Get up and investigate the door
>Pretend to be asleep
>Other (write-in)

>>2024544
>Get up and look through a window

>>2024544
>>Get up and look through a window

>>2024544
>Pretend to be asleep

>>2024603
I don't trust them.
May be some kind of gas, we open the window and get some fresh air while we are at the window.

>>2024561
>>2024603
>>2024606
You throw off the furs that had been set on you like a quilt, and catch how truly cold it is. You shudder from the cold, and, clutching yourself for warmth, stand and peer out the window. The Caucuses gleam in the twilight, far in the distance. From the sun, they're to the south, so you're at least still in Russia. You look down. You're in a forest, surrounded by trees, and at least 40 feet in the air. Looking below, the cottage is surrounded by a fence, which appears to be made of human bone. Tasteful. On a hunch, you check beneath the house...

A single chicken leg, thick and tall as a tree trunk, supports the cottage.

You lean back in, turning around...

And recoil from the old woman who's just appeared behind you. She appears truly ancient. Her back is hunched, her skin is leathery and wrinkled, and her eyes are sunken. Her grin can't have more than four teeth in it. Her head is wrapped in a shawl, and on the floor behind her, an oversized mortar and pestle rest by the door.

"[Hello, child,]" she says in Russian.

The wind howls louder through the open windows. She looks annoyed.

"[Shut up, you naked crybaby!]" she snaps, and the wind cuts off instantly.

>Baba Yaga?
>Is this a dream?
>Other (write-in)

>>2024656
>>Is this a dream?

>>2024656
>Is this a dream?

>>2024656
>Is this a dream?

>>2024668
>>2024780
>>2024817
"[Is... is this a dream?]" you ask, tentatively. Baba Yaga cackles.

"[No, no, not a dream. A vision, if anything. Or, perhaps I spirited you to my cottage upon my mortar? Time, perhaps, altered. All these things are possible, but unimportant. What matters is that you are here, and we speak now, free from those who might listen in otherwise.]"

"[Are you... Baba Yaga?]"

She cackles again. There's really no other word for her laugh; it rasps like old leaves and whistles like a teapot.

"[Yes, child, yes I am. And you are little Alex Sokolov, a boy trying to fill his father's crown.]"

You take exception.

"[I am the Lord Sokolov by right and by - ]"

She puts her finger to her lips, and you quiet instantly. Something about her makes you feel like a petulant child.

"[You are a child, dear. I do not mean to disparage you, but please try to realize that.]" She hobbles over to the fireplace, and takes the pot off. She takes some sort of powder from beside the stove and tosses it in. The fire flares to the color of the sunset, and the room warms. Pouring the contents of the pot through a strainer into two cups, she says:

"[I have guided the Sokolovs for generations. Your father, his father, his father, his mother... all of them. All the way back to my first son.]"

She hands you the steaming cup. It is a suspicious shade of green.

"[You are destined to either bring the Sokolov family to its greatest height, or drive it into ruin and grind the memory of it to dust. Beyond those fates, I cannot divine.]"

The tea(?) tastes like nothing you've ever had before. It's not bad, just... very strange.

"[All else I can offer you for now is this, little Sokolov,]" she says, producing a small piece of parchment from her clothes. "[Use it in your time of greatest desperation, and it shall give you aid.]"

>Aid? What kind of aid?
>Have you ever heard of a being called Fate?
>Stay silent
>Other (write-in)

>>2025027
>>Have you ever heard of a being called Fate?

>What do you get out of this? All you otherworldly beings always have an ulterior motive.

>>2025027
>Aid? What kind of aid?
I get the feeling this is going to get a cryptic response or just laughter, but still.

>>2025027
>>Have you ever heard of a being called Fate?

>>2025027
>Have you ever heard of a being called Fate?

You sit a while, examining the parchment. It's blank. You put it in your pocket anyway.

You have a thought. Baba Yaga is supposedly a monster, but there are tales that paint her more as an eclectic wise woman than baby-eating witch. This aspect of her certainly seems knowledgeable and reasonable.

"[Have you ever heard of a being called Fate?]" Baba Yaga continues whatever she's been doing at the stove, mixing different herbs into the remaining tea(?) water.

"[No, child, I haven't. You may have met one of the Greek] Moirai, [or the Norse] Norns, [or perhaps... ah, but I ramble. Suffice to say you've either encountered a new god - those are coming out of the woodwork these days - or something beyond the scope of my knowledge.]" She tosses some herbs into the pot, and the steam turns orange. "[I have never claimed to know all. Some advice, young Sokolov,]" she says, a smile creeping into her voice. "[Those who claim to know all probably know very little and understand even less.]"

You hold the parchment up to the light, turning it backwards and forwards. Even with light shining through it, there's nothing there.

"[What aid does this offer, anyway?]" you ask, a little frustrated. Baba Yaga cackles, stirring the pot.

"[What aid you need, and only when you need it. Though it must be said: you may find yourself in a greater predicament after using it. It is an, oh, what's that game your father showed me, a get-out-of gulag free card! Yes, one use only.]"

She looks out the window. The last of the sun's crown peeks from below the horizon. She sighs, and turns back to you.

"[It is nearly night, and you must truly rest. This is the end of the beginning, Alexei. I do not know this 'Fate,' but I know that the wheels of the world will work less in your favor from now on. We shall meet twice more, young Sokolov. Goodbye, for now.]"

Her cauldron hisses, boiling over. The water snaps, pops. Popopop, popopop...
+++
For a moment, you think that Baba Yaga's snapping kettle has followed you back into reality. Then, you realize what that sound really is - gunfire!

>Get up and check outside
>Get up and grab your weapon
>Pretend to be asleep
>Hide
>Other (write-in)

>>2025537
>>Get up and grab your weapon

>>2025537
>Get up and grab your weapon

>>2025537
>Get up and grab your weapon

>>2025537

>Grab your weapon. Shove your face into a small mountain of cocaine.

ITZ GO TIME!!

(Off in the distance you hear the first bars of "Turn up the radio")

>>2025538
>>2025543
>>2025549
You throw off your covers - can't a Great Lord get a moments rest - and quickly sling on your shoulder holster from where it hangs on the coat rack. Pulling on your overcoat and pants, you're interrupted by a knock at the door.

>Answer it
>Ask their identity
>Check through the peephole
>Other (write-in)

>>2025623
>Stand back and ask for their identity
Make sure we don't get shot through the door

>>2025623
>Ask their identity

>>2025636
>>2025646
Pressing yourself to the wall next to the door, you call:

"Identify yourself!"

There's a second's pause, and then:

"It's Caroline! Hyu need to open up, ve're onder attack!"

>Actually open up
>Fuck that
>Other (write-in)

>>2025702
>Actually open up
Yep, that's one of the names.

>>2025702
>>Actually open up

Cautiously, you reach over and unlock the door. Caroline bursts in, shotgun sweeping around the room. She spies you, and motions for you to follow her.

"Ve've got to get to de garage und get de fuck out uf here!" she says in an urgent tone.

>Who's attacking us?
>Shouldn't we wait for more backup?
>Just follow
>Other (write-in)

>>2025815
>Who's attacking us?

>>2025815
>Who's attacking us?
>inb4 no idea

>>2025815
>>Who's attacking us?

>>2025815

>*Manic grin* Want some cocaine? And who's attacking us?

>>2025815
>Who these dumb dead muhfuggas tryna step to me?
>>2025828
Hell naw mane that shit shrink yo dick

"Who's attacking?"

"Not sure, but de fact dat dere are Abominations und fuckink Schtalkers out dere makes me suspeck Frankenstein. Now kome on, Lord Sokolov, ve need to move!"

The Jaeger leads you out of the penthouse, taking you through the twisting back halls of the safehouse. More than once, she stops you before a door to let something with thudding footfalls and tortured, wheezing breaths pass on the other side. The gunfire outside has slowed, but occasionally comes in sporadic bursts. You make it to what you think leads to the exit, and Caroline stops you.

"After dis door, dere's no kover. Hyu schprint for de eksit on my go. Get out, get to de Kremlin, und tell dem hyu're a Sokolov. Keep tellink dem dat ontil zumone knows vat it means. Do hyu onderstund?"

You nod your head, numb. You feel like you should be terrified, but you don't feel anything.

"Tree... tvoo... vun... GO!"

The Jaeger slams the door open with a closed fist, and you charge out. The door is right there, 12 feet away...

Something massive moves incredibly quickly barely an inch behind you - an Abomination! It blindsides Caroline, lifting the Jaeger off her feet like she's a toy. You turn your head for a look. One oversized arm lifts Caroline at least six feet in the air. She tears at it with her claws, but the Abomination looks like it barely feels it. All it does is wheeze and moan as it slowly but inexorably crushes her to death. Her shotgun has fallen and lies just a few feet from you.

>Intervene
>Run

>>2025913
>Intervene
Running now would just be cowardly. Sokolovs are not cowards.

>>2025913
>Intervene
Yo ugly ass done fucked up now, Lord Sokolov bout to regulate

You can't just leave her there to die. You stop running, turn, grab the shotgun from where it fell, take aim...

>1d20-2

Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>2025979

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>2025979

>>2025979
Taking last roll because we don't have enough people.

Rolled 6 - 2 (1d20 - 2)

>>2026003
derp forgot dice

>>2026004
Well it wasn't a nat 1, so...
>>2025984
>14
You just pick a part of the Abomination and fire. The shotgun kicks like nothing you've ever felt, and you twist with it slightly as it rams into your shoulder. You do manage to hit the Abomination without hitting Caroline, though it seems more annoyed with you then hurt by a round of buckshot at five feet. It drops Caroline, turning for you...

>Run
>Fucking run
>FUCKING RUN DEAR JESUS

>>2026008
>Run

>>2026008
Calling the thread here, and adding it to the archives. Next one on Friday, as usual.