Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20161008211047/@comment-28358106-20161017061512

I hear the words coming from Jorge and I find myself doing the impossible: I actually agree with him. Even though Hound knows Wulf is here, we're stuck between two evils; helping one or helping the other. There's no way we can fight our way through an army...

Hound could. He would, if given the option. He's done it before. But Jorge likely won't let him, and I definitely won't. I have never taken a life, and I will not begin tonight. So far he's mostly ignored my questions, and he's not likely to start listening to me now.

It's strange. I see the siege tents erected, the fires burning. My instinct is to go help, go trudge down into that freezing, churned pit of mud and blood and ash, and search. Find that young soldier, the one lying by himself. Throw up my shield, deflect the arrows, pick him up, take him back, heal him, tell him his wife loves him and that he'll be fine. I did it a thousand times before, for Nilhasse, for Etrugia. For Whitemarch. For the Order, and the Sabbath.

First, do no harm. Not tonight, I won't. But there's nothing else I can do, either. I won't fight these men. I say nothing, for I have nothing to say. I came to fight a vampire, and I find myself in yet another war.

What a godsawful, shitty mess.