Chapter 4-112: Stumbling Around (1/2)

“I know little about the Night Prowlers, and I don’t think they have a base nearby. I’ve no personal bias against them. I can’t help you with this,” Sama told him firmly.

He held up a hand. “I’m going to be a manipulative bastard. We’re good at that, you see.” She just smiled slightly, and lifted an eyebrow in interest at his shamelessness. “What’s your attitudes on the Elder Fangs, Senpai?” he asked carefully.

Her smile turned upside-down rather quickly. “Fucking puffed-up non-Accord wolfweres who think humanity has overstepped its bounds. They prey on humans wherever they can without being caught and bringing down shit on themselves. I’ve had to kill a few of them, and we don’t have a good relationship at all.” Like that pack had thought hunting a lone human female out in the wilds on her trip here would be easy and fun. They became rugs.

He nodded. “The Night Prowler base I’m going to be visiting so cordially has been giving shelter to Elder Fangs hunting in the area, apparently a trade of kiss-me-ass favors. It seems there’s a very aggressive faction of the Elder Fangs wanting to strike a better blow against the human herds while they can, and in return for wandering along with the Night Prowlers against the neo-undead, they are being allowed to quietly pick off whoever they like in the areas around them.”

Sama’s breath came out in a hiss. “It’s likely not that simple.”

“No, it’s probably not,” he agreed. “I have no idea what Lerch did to earn the ire of the Packs, either, they just clamored for us to do something, and I got sent out to get something approaching results and fair report back. If it came down to it, I could simply acquire evidence of what they were doing, get some help from the Churches, and come down on them.” He paused, then sighed with a forgiving smile. “But I’m pretty sure there’s a sect of Druids supporting them, too.”

Sama rolled her eyes. “At least they are goddamn not working with Hags,” she mused, keeping a close watch on his expression, and narrowed her eyes. “You’ve got something else?” she pressed.

He shrugged slightly. “There’s a lot of work being done by the Church of Imprus to stir up hatred against the weres in Iowa, particularly Des Moines, and they seem to have an almost preternatural knowledge of who and where people have died,” he mused to the ceiling.

Sama’s heavens-blue eyes were starting to roil. “That is very damn manipulative,” she acknowledged his efforts, and he grinned shamelessly and half-bowed to her. “Imprus doesn’t have much of a rural following at all. His racism would find human converts, but he so blatantly favors the Powered he turns the common folk right off, because they are just chaff to Him. He isn’t losing any people, and is probably fine to see any or all of them killed off...”

Just like that Asshat the Third’s criminal empire had thought...

“They might be feeding information to the weres, or they might have a greater purpose. Stirring up conflict among enemies is them thinking they are being sly and cunning.”

The Mick nodded. “The elders of the Blooded play the same game,” he agreed. “So, you think there’s a deeper game at play...”

“Yes. In addition, many people underestimate just how much knowledge and power the wealth of the Imprusar’s faithful can buy. Their power in corporate circles is not small, and the weres in general loathe a lot of modern development, especially the faceless corporations. They are seeing an opportunity here... two Were Packs, and a Druid Circle, and the excuse to wipe them both?”

“They’d need a really good excuse to mobilize enough manpower to do that...”

“So, what’s in the area that would provide a good excuse?” Sama asked him. He just shook his head... it wasn’t an area he knew. “I’m going to contact a Shaman of one of the native tribes, and see what he has to say about this. I will tell you what he says.”

“Appreciated. I dinnae want to go back empty-handed, but I’m not stupid enough to make a bad situation that much worse, either.”

“I’ve heard that Imprusar keep back door contacts with the Blooded, because you keep a human appearance, and you move in wealthy circles. Is that true?”

“To an extent. Civility on the face of it, a hearty knife in the back when they can’t be seen, cooperation if there is benefit involved. The Blooded are just another Powered human race of a sort now, after all,” he admitted, even if it nicked his pride a bit. Pride was cheap.

“While I admit them wooing your people would be a huge coup for them, especially with your control of the other neo-undead clans, I don’t think that’s going to happen, given how poorly your Ancestors get along with Clerics and religions in general.”

“That is so very true, and I must confess, their sanctimonious preaching and the deviltry they get up to behind closed doors does not make my empty platitudes to gods who can’t hear us more pious,” he acknowledged blithely.

“You’ve got Uskvar all over you,” she snorted, and he blinked in shock. “Please, I know a need for vengeance when I see one, and it fairly oozes out of you. It made you what you are. Uskvar doesn’t much care for the reasons why you want revenge, but he’s not the God of Spite, Ruilvei does that. True vengeance is best served cold, after all.”

“Aye, that is true.” Without thinking, his hand reached out to touch the white hilt of his new Sword, and his eyes were looking at other times, and other faces, both friends and enemies.

“What did you Name him?” she asked with a nod at his Weapon.

“Smior.” She shook her head, not knowing what it meant. “It means Marrow in the old tongue. Because it’s where the blood comes from.”

She thought about that, and nodded in understanding. Smior would indeed be putting out a lot of blood...

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“Strikes at Shadows, this is Sama. I have a question for you which is both going to cost me favors, and probably do you a big favor at the same time.”

There was a grunt from the other end, and she could picture the Manitou werewolf’s face twisting. They still owed her debts, even after she had vanished for so long, and if her voice was scratchy, there was still no mistaking who she was. “Ask,” he grunted out.

“The Church of Imprus is meddling in things down in Iowa. The Night Prowlers and Elder Fangs are being too active, stirring up trouble, and there is a Druid Circle helping them out.” She gave him a moment to digest all that happening, turn over who in his mind he would need to contact. “My guess is that the Imprusar want to use this as an opportunity to rile up opposition to the Werefolk and Druids, and they are planning on making a big move.