B.C.A. [26/01/17: Where The Interview Is Not About Her Job]

well this is awkward.

>Do you know our new prisoner?

> Interrogate this classy broad with a shotgun. It's the obvious thing to do.

You find the idea of torture distasteful. While you have no compunction against hurting your fellow man in fair combat, you are not a cruel person per se. You lack the petty, small-minded personality necessary to enjoy the suffering of others. You need to come up with another way to figure out this rabbit person because you are convinced that he is lying to you. You are not sure of specifics yet, but they are much too forthcoming with information to be trusted.


You nod at Euphrasia, who and gathers her things without saying a word and takes a position looking at the cavern entrance - the very same one your captive used to ambush you.





You turn your attention to your other prisoner. She is short and slender in build, and barely out of her teens. The uniform she is wearing is an old Westmore brigade one, that was disbanded after the independent barony was annexed by the Empire some twenty years ago. She starts coming to but winces when she tries to move, and resigns herself to staring at you full of hatred. “Lapdog” she whispers under her breath.

You prod the rabbit with your scabbard and then point at her. “Do you know her?”

“Not very well! She’s called Constance and she’s with the rebels. Doesn’t talk much but is a good shot. She appeared in my clinic and/or diner a couple weeks ago, got along with Blake like they know each other from before.”

“I see.” Your eyes go over her supine form. She makes angry faces at the rabbit and mouths shut up repeatedly at him. Even so, she is clearly in pain. “I am not an expert, like you doctor, but I am pretty sure that human feet aren’t digitigrade. Shouldn’t you do something to help your companion, hmm?”

Lapin avoids your gaze and taps his fingertips together nervously “I really shouldn’t. Looks like it’s broken and if it’s not set properly it’ll heal wrong.”

“Really now.” Ire starts creeping into your voice and you cross your arms, ready to pin him down on his lies.

“Look, I’m more of a naturopath not a surgeon!” he says with wounded pride. “Come to me if you have a persistent infection or want just plain healthier lifestyle and I’ll brew a tea for you, but I don’t handle grimey gorey stuff like that.” he waves his arms towards Constance’s general direction.


You go through her stuff. Her rifle is old but in good condition and clearly state of the art of its times, an ornate piece lovingly crafted by some human mastersmith. Otherwise her possessions are disappointingly meager - besides gunpowder, shot, and winding key she carries just some small change in Imperial currency, a piece of acacia gum, and a bit of lint. Not a single incriminating letter detailing their plot or a signet ring of long-lost noble family is to be found here, unlike in the stories. How inconsiderate of her! Trying to address her directly nets you only being spat on, so you leave her be for the time being and start thinking of your next move.




Then Linnea, who has been praying silently as you speak, finishes and draws her knife. “Welp, time to get rid of the prisoners.”

Not so fast! The Beastfolk Code stipulates that prisoners must be "respectfully consumed" and you're not the least bit hungry right now!

> Yeah sure. Let's axe them. I got no problems here. (LYING THROUGH YOUR TEETH AS HARD AS YOU CAN)

>Mourad: Linnea's actions are rather strange right now. This is probably a very good time to disarm the Sergeant either through cunning or force. Perhaps a display of misdirection is crucial. See anything that can cause a huge ruckus?

Somebody, Anybody: Lasso that mantis and ride it like a bucking bronco!

Mantis: Dispatch the prisoners.

Mourad and Linnea: Be disappointed for different reasons.

>rebels: LEVEL 8 ESCAPE TECH: OH DEAR GOD MONSTER RUN FOR YOUR LIVES

>Joe: use the distraction to disarm Linnea and subdue her.
>Joe: order a defensive formation




>C̱̊̏ͬ̎ͭ̍͢͟H̸͙͕̘͓ͥ͌̓̈̊̌͛ͫ̀∀̴͚̭̙͉̮̈́͑̑̇̾O͈̞͎͂ͪS̨ͥ̅̈̍ͬͩ̓͘҉̮͉

The enraged creature rushes at you!

The mantis moves with the jittery tick-tock motion of an insect, the nervous clicking of its legs against the stone floor sounding like a swarm of marbles rolling down stairs. It reaches you with the speed of predatory lightning and you have the time just to yell “To me!” before all you can do is to defend yourself. You block its initial glancing blows but fail to counterattack, your graceful art proving ineffectual against its nonhuman shape, its limbs bending in strange ways and its vulnerable spots being shielded by a hard shell.

You manage to lodge your scabbard between one of its claws and use your entire body weight to pin it shut, but doing so you leave yourself wide open to its other one. The mantis raises the sharp scythe, ready to puncture your soft flesh, but you do not falter. You have no other defense than the trust in your team, the sincere hope that you do not fight alone. Right here, one breath before your impending doom, you test your faith and find it strong.

It is Linnea who saves you by leaping on the creature’s back and straddling it like a riding beast, her whooping and laughter completely unsuited for her usual detached personality. The mantis twists and turns trying to dislodge her, making awkward slashes behind its back, but you dragging on its left arm leave them lopsided and weak. It hisses in anger and bucks violently but the danger simply excites Linnea more, her eyes twinkling and shrieks girlish as she holds on for her life.

The creature’s hide is simply too thick to be penetrated by hand weapons, and you need to end this quick. “Gun!” you bellow “Take the shot!”
“I can’t!” Euphrasia replies from somewhere close, having abandoned her ambush spot to aid you. “Too close you are!”

In a fit of rage the mantis roars and leaps, landing on its back and crushing Linnea under its bulk. You are knocked aside, but you roll and are already on your feet even before you have finished skidding on the smooth stone. The mantis is on top of Linnea, poised to strike, but now in clear sight of Euphrasia bracing her fierce hand cannon against her shoulder. Let her be struck down, the thought skitters across your brain, then the dwarf bags the beast and you can walk away as heroes. You grit your teeth as you pick up speed. Let her die and solve this problem before it even becomes one. She lies dazed on the ground as the beast swipes down. You leap. It’ll be over before you know it.

“Fire, NOW!” Sergeant Joe Mourad yells as he clotheslines the frenzied cavern mantis, knocking its lethal blow askew. Thunder booms and cracks in the cavern as Euphrasia follows orders. The fiery blast strikes the mantis’s abdomen like a thunderbolt, torn armor and flesh spattering in every direction. It shrieks once, warbling cry like sheet metal being ripped apart, then crumples into a huddled mess. You stagger up, blinded and deafened by the flash, feeling the sting of a multitude of small cuts from stray shrapnel, the smell of your own blood mingling with gunpowder smoke and the fresh cucumber scent of mantis guts. You sigh in relief when you see that both Linnea and Euphrasia are unhurt.




Blake and his cronies are nowhere in sight having shamefully escaped during your fight. You are not surprised but cannot help feeling somewhat disappointed and vaguely insulted. You saunter to where Linnea is laying catching her breath, and pick up her sword.
“Welp.” She sits up and props herself on her arms.
“Here we are, then.” You turn her saber around in your arms. It is well made and well used, much like its owner.
“Looks like your mission is a bust, sergeant.”
“So is yours, Lin-Lin.”
There is a pause as both of you measure your steps in this dance. She looks at you, puzzled.
“I threatened you yet you saved me. Why?”
“If you knew me you wouldn’t ask that question.”
She chuckles, a deep rumbling rising from her chest. “You are either brave or stupid, sergeant. I guess I’ll stick around to find out which. No hard feelings?”
“That remains to be seen.” You extend your arm and help her up, you two working in unison to hoist her considerable bulk. Her hand is surprisingly soft.
She dusts off her clothes. “I think neither of our superiors needs to hear what happened here. We should report that the tip was false and Blake was nowhere in sight. What say you, sergeant?” She suggests treason just like that, casually like picking a place for lunch.
You look at Euphrasia who shrugs. She has no personal stake in your mission. “Stearns I know. On general principles alone he will to lying agree.”
You look around in the dank cave. Stone dust has gotten into your wounds making them itch and your paws are sticky with freshly scented mantis blood. Everything about this has started to stink.
“Yeah. Let’s go home.”
“Can I have my sword back, sergeant?”
“Not until you behave.” You turn and walk away, shaking it like a schoolmaster’s cane as you go.

She is not amused but follows you anyway.

>Making rugs at sweatshop wages and slowly being driven mad by a strange elven artifact, or maybe just her brother's whinging.

>Shenanigans that will remain a mystery have left Vivian in an awkward dinner with her brother, the human who he was hanging around with, and a weird uncle. no one knows who's uncle it is.