D.A.P.P.E.R. Case 1; Of Kings and Legacies.

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CASE 1: OF KINGS AND LEGACIES​

West Berlin HQ.: 1966, 9th of December. ​

The world keeps turning. The World, keeps changing. The boots of technology lead a steady march over the spiritual sensibility of mankind. And with it the jobb at the "Department for Apprehension and Protectiom against Paranatural, Extradimensional and ReAnimated" gets at once both easier and more difficult. More tools and better equipment allows them to track and deal with threats easier. But it also allows for their rivals to do the same. And for occultists and other unsavory individuals to achieve their goals easier as well.

190 000 amerians on Vietnamese soil shed blood, in a world already soaked in it. And their blood and their agony in turn feed a allready rampant population of local vampires. A very specific breed, of the flying head variety. And all the while, D.A.P.P.E.R is facing budget cuts, as the threat of Thule has been all but handled. Never mind that the Red Brigade is still as active ever, and that Chinese agents are trying to acquire artifacts from the Ming Dynasty. Or that the aaforementioned Vietnamese vampires are capable of hitching a ride on ships without caring about native soil. The supernatural is not as scary anymore, our weapons are so much better then the day of the sword and bow. Funny that Piere had started to train his exterminators to use swords along with modern firearms such as the AK-47 and M16. Pierre, who had survived the worst incident in D.A.P.P.E.Rs history, knew old methods still worked well. And sometimes, the sword would save you, not the automatic carbine.

He lamented over USA's latest cut in the D.A.P.P.E.R funding. More and more money was being put into helicopters, tanks, battl ships and the bloody CIA. Communism in itself had become the big threat and the war of Ideology is best fought with money and proxy wars. The supernatural was less important. Pierres own country, France, cut the funding after suffering a losing Algeria. They had spent their money on their nuclear program instead. Pierre had not forgotten Margaretes words, about humanity being a speck of dust in comparison the universe. The old lady had been part of the start, the very beginning. And she had slowly been eaten by the thing from under the pacific. He had believed the dying old lady and her warning, and he believed her all the more now.

"Sir" A voice called to him. He turned to face the young man, a Delta Rank officer by the named Tomas Lind. A former member of the Swedish Paratrooper Unit. Built like a Viking, with the beard to match. And the dead eyes that stared at you until you felt you better ask him if he had seen Valhalla.

"Yes?" Piere raised a eyebrow.

"Diplomatic Liason, Ferdinand Tompson has returned Sir!" He stood in salute. He looked chuffed, out of breath and Piera allowed him to catch his breath.

"And why do you look so haggard and out breath." He spoke, arms akimbo as he stared at his subordinate.

"He told me to get you as soon as possible Sir! Its about The Count of Bones Sir! He is dead. Sir!" The man spoke and Piere stared. He opened his mouth.

"But the Count was in good heal-" Pierre paused, about to say something then paused again. He lifted his hand to his face, fumbling for a cigarre not there, but in his pocket still. The Count of Bones was the code name used for a former Prussian Aristocrat. Roland Leipwig was one of the few Prussian officers to have survived the war without either getting killed or persecuted He was called the Count of Bones because his interest in anthropology. He owned more bones and skulls then any man should. He also owned countless less then usefull artifacts, anything of use he sold off before it got him killed. Most often he sold to them, to Dapper. The man had survived Nazi assassination attempts, The Russian Horde, even a American raid at his house at the end othe war. They said Hitler had been afraid of him and that Thule had left him alone. The foremost collector of famous necromemorabilia and likely a collector of many things not even D.A.P.P.E.R knew about. IF he somehow was dead, his entire collection was up for grabs. And a report from a french operative a few days ago came to mind.

"Get me a team, now. We won't be able to get to his house before the Russians, its located in East Berlin. But we sure as hell can get to his actual collection before them, as he kept the family home is in the Westphalia tterritories And that's on our turf." The man ran off with the new orders as Piere dialed the man in charge of Artifacts; Schmidt.

"Are you aware of the pile of crap we are about to step in, Special Liason Schmidt." Piere spoke as soon as the line was picked up, his voice tense.

"I just got the word. I never thought I'd see the day when the Count of Bones bit a bullet. Or whatever it was that took him out of the game." The Austrian Articifer and Liason answered back, he sounded just as tense.

"I need verification. We are sure his real collection is in Allied territory, yes?"

"Certeinly. I allready sent my reccomendations as to what Liasons to send with the team."
"The Reinheardt fellow, no doubt." Piere spoke without thinking. "He is a good choice. He knows the way the Russians operate, he can become somebody else and help us keep the russian spies off the trail. And I suggest we send Burbank down there. The man picks up on everything around him. What we might gleam from his mind afterwards could secure us further funding. And.. I think we just recently aquired a recruit fit for indentifying the collection and verify it's authenticy."

"And who, Pray tell, had you inmind would do security detail?" Schmidt asked, the sound of scribbling could be heard on the other end of the conversation. And from the sudden increase of volume Piere surmised the Liason was noting things down while having the phone between his shoulder and head.

"I am gonna send Sister Williams for supression and Corpral Popescu for exit strategy. " There was a paus in the scribbling at this notion.

"Popescu is Roma ins't he? He is not gonna like what they found down there. You know this right?" There was a sudden edge to Schmidts voice."

"Gods willing, it only works to send them faster out of there once they found their objective." Piere spoke, nknowing fully the reputation of the Count.

"What are they looking for again." The Head of the Hades Vaults was suddenly as tense as he had ever been. The two men stood silently by their phones. Contemplating.

"Durendal. The sword of Roland the Paladin." Piere breathed out, clenching the phone. The sword that was supposed to have been indestructable. According to myth, Roland hid it upon his death. And ofcourse Thule scientists had wanted to study its properties. But according to sources, The count of Bones had a personal interest in Rolands legacy. And found it first. They had never approached him about it, in fear of him releasing artifacts to the Reds in retaliation. To Piere, this was part of his countrys origins, and to D.A.P.P.E.R was a class 1 artifact. The name hung in the air.

"I'll have the full list of operatives to retrieve it shortly Piere. I'll leave the briefing of our charming leaders to you. Over and out."

"Yeah, leave it to me." Piere put down the phone. He took out a cigar and lit it, savoring the taste. "Viva la Charlamagne. " He spoke with a grin on his face. He had begged for a miracle, and he had gotten it. France would be throwing money at them after this. "Viva la France."

12:22 local time, 10th of December, 1966.
Outside the "Mansion of Bones", Family residence of one late Roland Leipwig.​

The air was freezing with the winter cold of December. Snow lay as a blanket across the prussian country side. Well, it was German country side now. But the snow didn't care. It crunched under the wheels of the "Toad", one of three Wolkswagen vans that rode up to the gate of the Mansion grounds. They were rather normal looking from the side, other then being black and a bit heavier set when in motion. But inside each sat 5 people plus a driver. Inside "The Toad" was the team of one executioner;Sister Matthews, The Toads own, very relaxed driver; Joseph. A fell RDD grunt like Joseph himself was among the team aswell, "Shawn". The team leader and Hunter; Oliver Reese sat in the front seat next to Joseph. Then there was the two nerds; One folklore expert by the name Duncan McShale and one scholary looking gentleman Joseph knew as "West Bank." Last but not least was the Liason; Wilbur Reinhardth , whom Joseph wasn't sure why he was brought along. He wasn't sure, becouse they were usually doing tip of your hat, shank his back kind of hits. But then again, the Count had contacts everywhere. If Wilbur could find any of his documents, it would be a great asset to the Organization.

"The house was truly massive, a castle more then anything. And its courtyard was just as immense and imposing. The walls were a good three meter high and ended in spikes of iron pointing skywards. As some sort of extra measure, there was barbed wire there as well. The gate was closed. And looked both incredibly heavy and ominus.

"We are here, Captain Reese." Three teams had been sent here. They did not expect anything fierce. But there might be counter measures, or his bonecollection might attract creaures once they got trough said counter measures. Who knew what the infamous aristocrat had done with the place. And it was a big place, with limited time to search it. Apperently, only McShale had been told what exactly they were looking for. The back doors of the Toad opened to let out the troops into the cold, frozen air of Prussia.

"Place is huge." Joseph said as he stepped out himself. "Gonna take forever to find something specific, even with three teams. Good defensive perimiter though Captain."

---

Casefile
Operation White Blade
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Operation White Blade
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Operation White Blade


  • Case File and Orders;

    The infamous Count of Bones is dead. He was found stabbed in his hotel room in West Berlin on December 9    th​. His killer is unknown, and his visits purpose as well. What is known is that he possess a great private collection of bones from famous indiviuals as well as other necroticly charged memoribilia along with artifacts. His real Collection has always alluded D.A.P.P.E.R up untill now, the Count having been a shrewd and tricky man. His Mansion has been a heavily fortified and hard to infiltrate base for the count for a long time. This is our first opportunity to see it past the lobby.

    Sent to location is three teams of six. You are to take point, being the specialist party. The two follow ups are mainly there to help with the search and set up a perimiter. We have no reasons tobelieve a immediete threat is present, but do exercise extreme coution when handling the collection.

    Your loadout priviliges are after rank only.

    Good Luck Operative.

 
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Wrought iron spikes along a formidable looking wall, late 14th or 15th century stonework (he assumed), and a size and layout that suggested wealth, power, and history. Carl Burbank adjusted his glasses. With the sophisticated Fae Glass in his lenses, he could see there was a residual bluish-violet aura around the house. That in and of itself wasn't substantial; there was usually a glow like that in an area where someone died. He suspected evidence of some sort of disturbance in the local energy from the departure. Unfortunately, he couldn't determine anything more. If there was anything dangerous inside, it wasn't giving off any sort of trail or residual energy, at least not from this side of the ramparts.

"Yes," he said with absolute certainty at the steps of the castle. "This is a very big house. I shudder to think who will attempt to move on this particular piece of real estate."

He pulled out the EMF meter he carried and watched the needle move only faintly.

"I suspected more activity inside anyway," he said dismissively at its lack of a response. "Shall we go in then? Guns first, please."
 
Duncan stepped out of the car a tad wobbly, his legs having fallen asleep on the way there. He, too, noticed the energy radiating from the house as he took a step back. It was most certainly impressive and would indeed be hard to search for their quarry. He adjusted his spectacles as a fierce wind blew from the east as he trudged through the snow.

He stopped next to his fellow researcher Carl Burbank and said, "Agreed, I as well expect much more activity inside. I shudder in equal sense of fear and anticipation on what we may learn."
 
Wilbur adjusted the winter coat around his neck, not because he was freezing, but rather because he was uncomfortable about his current situation. Three american capitalistic bastards (one of them being a "catholic" and the group leader) and a Rumanian man that bears a strong hate against the Commies; who was the idiot that had the idea to team him up with his worst enemies? But it didn't matter right now, since as long as he kept his mouth shut, he might be just fine. Besides, if they were the only men that could help him to get his revenge, then he had no other choice than to work with them.

He climbed a few steps of the castle, staying a little further from the rest of his squadmates, and stopped to observe the vastness of the place. It was amazing what a human's hand could do, even when the nature itself was against them.

"I agree, this place is huge. Do we have any kind of clue of where we might find the artifacts?" he asked the others, releasing a small cloud of vapor through his mouth in the process.
 
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The air was cold and dry. Not unlike the winters of Chicago. The Windy City was known to have cold gusts of wind that would come off Lake Michigan. So the bite of the frigid air didn't both Oliver all that much being born and raised in the city. Still, the man couldn't stop himself from pulling his gray jacket in a little closer to his body as he stepped out of the Toad. After getting out of the vehicle he turned to survey the huge mansion. The walls were tall and thick. Even without the barbed wire on top, Oliver doubted many of them could have climbed it. The team captain scanned the windows to see if he could see any signs of life or un-life but of course, he could see nothing. The castle like house appeared to be totally empty. The biggest issue was getting through the gate. It was heavy, and likely locked. They might be able to pick it. If not they might have to use some explosives to blow it open. That was not his preference though. An explosion would be too loud and might draw unwanted attention.

"Gonna take forever to find something specific, even with three teams. Good defensive perimeter though Captain."

"Hmm, agreed. You know I have to wonder though. Were these walls built to keep things out or in?" Oliver said cryptically.

"I agree, this place is huge. Do we have any kind of clue of where we might find the artifacts, or for that matter, Bones' office?"

"His artifacts are most likely stored in some type of vault. I imagine that his vault is close to the office. The office could be any where. If I were him, I'd pick some where safe. Some where I can lock down or have an easy escape."

"Shall we go in then? Guns first, please."

"We have to get through that gate. See if you and Duncan can detect anything extra-dimensional about it. If there's a trap let me know. Wilbur standby with Carl. If it's locked see if you can unlock that gate. Hopefully we won't have to blow it open. Team two do a sweep around the walls then report back to me. Be sure to move as quick as you can. Team three stack up at the gate and watch over the non combatants." ordered the captain. It was standard procedure to sweep the area before infiltrating. Once the gate was open they would make their way through the court yard and into the castle.

"Only God knows what's inside." Oliver thought to himself. The thought of God caused him to pause. Before the war, his faith seemed unshakable. Once all the paranormal and extra-dimensional stuff happened, his faith had been rocked. So much death and darkness had come into the world. If God loved humans, then why allow it? Was it mans fault or Gods? Was God as all powerful as his word said, or was he just one of many gods now? These were just a few of the questions that had been plaguing him for years. In the end, he decided that he needed to believe that someone out there was watching over him. Some powerful entity that was fighting on his side. That thought didn't answer his questions, but it let him sleep at night.
 
Inside the back of 'the Toad' Miyoki couldn't help but find her concentration constantly disturbed by the most odd of distractions. Normally, she attempted to zone out the irritations that might ruin meditation: but she always found that it was impossible to do so just before a mission. All the normal things distracted her: what he smelt like or what he said or why the road bumped like that or what kind of bad guy was she going to have to bash in today or why were the upper-people so against her wearing her robes on a combat mission?...All of 'em questions, but so few of 'em worth answering.

So what questions were worth asking? Well, the key one at the moment seemed to be 'What kind of artifacts did the Lord of Bones have stashed away?' Finding artifacts was rarely considered the normal job for exterminators, but Miyoki knew the importance of real, powerful artifacts. She wasn't sure how many of her team mates knew about the importance of the items, but Miyoki was hoping for something juicy: like a saint's bone or maybe even a saint's weapon. A lot of people were being thrown at this mission, after all.

To think that D.A.P.P.E.R might be getting hold of a nee, powerful artifact, or better yet, think about how cool it would be if she was the one who found it? It would certainly be a proverbial feather in her non-existent cap if she found something of worth on a mission. She gripped the shoulders of her coat, pulling the combat jacket closer to her skin as she felt the biting cold upon the Toad opening up.

Maybe her robes weren't such a good idea, after all.

As the techies and her Squad leader filed out the car, Miyoki did nothing more than step out of the Toad and start to walk back and forth: so as to stretch her legs. In truth, she was a little sore after sitting in a vehicle for so long. She had barely gotten used to the sensation, even two years after leaving her isolated home in the mountains.

Miyoki's hands wondered down to her side, gripping the currently-unbladed handles of her weapon. The Katar was always a bit of an eye turner when people first realised it was her weapon of choice. Few people beleived her when she said that she was an Exterminator who fought in the up-close and the personal...That was until they saw her punch a fist-sized hole through a ghoul. Then they saw that she was the real deal.

As orders were dished out, Miyoki noticed a distinct lack of orders for herself. As far as she was aware, she was part of squad one, yet the commander hadn't mentioned her at all. It was like he didn't know what to do with her, which probably made sense. No one really knew what to do with exterminators before they got to fightin'

"So...uh...I guess I'll go and uh...wait by the smart people. Wouldn't want them getting hurt."

She felt her feet twist and pivot, unsure of what the best course of action was. It was amazing how a trained warrior could be reduced to a nervous girl in the face of one of the things she could never fight: a lack of information.

Never-the-less, Miyoki wandered over to the two scientists next to the gate, standing a few steps away before pausing to see if either of them would break the silence. When none did, she shrugged and spoke up. "So uh...how's it goin'?"
 
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Carl paid little attention to everyone else in the group. He listened to the captain's orders, of course, and the reason he wasn't yet responding was because he was busy carrying them out, looking for any nasty supernatural booby-traps. He pulled out a small vial of something he'd been working on. It was holy water, sage and a dash of radium. What it was supposed to be was a new danger detector, though it seemed to only respond to certain extra dimensional entities. It glowed either blue or pink when certain energies were present, but it was inconsistent, sometimes glowing in a way that exposed it to the naked eye, while other times he could only see the result through Fae Glass.

As Miyoki came up to him and Duncan, who was reviewing things a bit more traditionally, he made quiet passing replies to her question.

"We may or may not have trouble," he said without looking away from his vial, which he had pointed to the wall. From his view behind his glasses it had a slight pink color to it. "Do you see this?" Before she could answer he lowered his own glasses and inspected it through blurry eyes. No clear shape, but no clear pink either. He continued. "It's pink. Pink and well-hidden. That could be very, very bad...The EMF is still low. I might be picking up something inside the castle, which would be even more troubling...That is if it's working this time."

"Duncan!" he called to his fellow scientist, further down the wall. "I don't see anything with my glasses, but there may be something more religious at work. I think we should get out an amulet or a reliquary." They usually at least produced an aura reaction, which was something.

"If nothing happens," he added quietly to Miyoki, "then the only thing standing between us and inside is the wall itself."
 
Shawn shook his head. The cold really was getting to him. And after all that time in the ice bath, he was still cold. He drew his jacket closer to him. Alas, it was a Japanese jacket. Made for the heat, not as much as cold. His concentration slipped, and he thought of the time he didn't want to go the mountains. He's forgotten the reason, but he remembered. He shook his head again and he shivered. Cursing himself, he slung his rifle across his back and held his shotgun in his hand. He exited the Toad.

His breath fogged in the cold. His eyes wandered around and in the huge mansion and he... should be surprised. In awe. Something. But he wasn't. He'd seen many mansions like this; made of stone, old, and spiky fences. The windows were creepy, as if unknown eyes were looking at him. He held his shotgun closer to his chest and walked around for a bit, looking for the team leader. "Um...Sir? What would you do with me?"
 
"Indeed, I didn't consider that the very walls have been blessed." He said as he reached slowly into his pocket to where he kept his only religious symbol on him: an old wooden cross. He had requested one prior to the mission in case there was something that reacted to such symbology. He worried, however, that such relics would not work to their full potential since he doubted the existance of any creator. Even when he recited scripture while removing a human spirit from a house prior to his employment just two weeks ago, he questioned whether it was his own will that removed the spirit rather than some god.

None the less, he procured the aging cross from his pocket along with doubt. He held the cross out in front of him as proudly as he could muster despite the heavy chain of doubt that weighed on him. He then uttered, "By the power of the father, son, and the holy spirit reveal to me the barrier that shields this wall."

Ten seconds passed, then 20, and finally a minute before Duncan lowered the cross to his side. Through his spectacles he witnessed the cross give off a pathetic amount of energy with absolutely no response or glow besides the light-blue hue it was already giving off.

He turned to Carl and said, a tad defeated, "Nothing changed... I couldn't get a reponse from the wall. Whatever energy you're mixture is detecting is not radiating from the wall."
 
Duncan's confirmation of what he'd suspected didn't make Carl feel any better.

"I was afraid of that. Still, at least the wall won't impede us." He turned to Oliver and took a few steps towards him, pocketing the vial again as he went. "Captain, there doesn't seem to be anything unnatural about the wall. There is, however, potentially something very dangerous inside. My means of detection is not very reliable, but it suggests an unknown entity is waiting for us."
 
"Shawn, go get the C4. If there's a vault we might need it, then give it to team three."

Oliver listened to Carl and Duncan prattle on about the gate. They weren't talking over his head. He had been in the game for longer than most. The captain surmised that there was probably nothing wrong with the gate but he wasn't about to make that call out loud. He knew better than that. Let the men do their job to the fullest extent, and more people got to stay alive. The professors would tell him all that he needed to know. Oliver did not like not knowing things. Too many times in his life good people died because some idiot thought that some information was not all that important. So, when Captain Reese looked at Wilber, he did not like him. He was new to Oliver and command had only given him a few details about the man. He knew his skills and talents but he did not know his motives. Oliver did what he did because in his heart he knew it was the right thing to do. Why did Wilber do what he did? Despite his feelings toward Wilber, he had never showed any signs of hostility to the man. Still, Oliver always made sure he was aware of where and what he was doing.

The sound of a team three member clearing his throat stirred him from his thoughts. The team leader turned and regarded the man. It was Dusty Walker, an entry level exterminator. Dusty had been in the organization for a few years. They had had several missions together already, so Dusty knew how Oliver operated.

"Captain, what's the plan when we get inside?" Asked Dusty

"Team two will set up a perimeter within the wall with two at the gate. Team three will fan out in the castle to search for Bones' office. Team one will also search the house." Oliver replied.

"Captain, there doesn't seem to be anything unnatural about the wall. There is, however, potentially something very dangerous inside. My means of detection is not very reliable, but it suggests an unknown entity is waiting for us."

"Damn, all right. Wilber get that door open ASAP. Once it's open, Miyoki and I will take point. Shawn, stick with Carl and Duncan. Team three, bring up the rear. Courtyard looks clear, but we won't take any chances." Oliver took out his radio and hailed team two. "Team two, what's your status? I need you back soon."
 
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"Got it, captain." Wilbur said in an unexcited voice, with his arms crossed. Then he approached the gate, a bit cautious due to Carl's warning. As much as he didn't like neither him or Duncan, he knew that their help will be crucial to the operation, so he had to trust them... for now. When he was in front of the colossal iron entrance of the old mansion, he carefully pulled out his picklock kit and began examining the lock.

Well, now this is an interesting lock! Its design was way different from what he has seen so far, since it contained at least two dozens of pins around the lock's keyhole, all in different positions and shapes. Whoever who made this lock must've been a master in his job. But nonetheless, not even this lock could stop Wilbur from reaching his goal. The only drawback, though, is that it would take some time to pick it.

"You might need to wait for 5 minutes or so. This padlock is way more complicated than the others I've seen so far." he said while placing the tension wrench and the diamond pick inside the keyhole.

Apparently, Wilbur's expectations were way too pessimistic, since he managed to open the gates in less than 2 minutes, because the pins weren't as challenging as he thought at first. But anyway, what mattered now is that the gate was now open, and the squad could get into the courtyard. After he placed his lockpick kit back in his sleeve, he began opening the heavy gates so the others could get inside.

"Are you going to help me or do you think that I'll open the gates by myself?" Wilbur said harshly, while slowly pushing the slammer aside.
 
"Yes sir." Shawn trudged a path through the snow to the Toad. Opening up the trunk, he looked around in the low light before spotting it behind a bag of... cabbages. Who brung cabbages? He picked up the cold brick of inert explosive and put it in his pack. He rejoined the squad at the gate.
 
Josef got his rifle out of the car checking that it was loaded and ready to go he before sat back inside the Toad. He aimed down the sight at the house, and though he saw something move. It was hard to tell as the weather was turning rapidly worse. The snowflakes were coming down larger and more frequently, and the wind was picking up. He let his fingers drum across the steering wheel as the watched the castle like mansion from within the car. He had a bad feeling about all this. A really, really bad feeling. Absentmindedly he picked up a cigarette and put it to his lips. His lighter didn't seem to work however and he swore.

"Futu-i!" He swore to himself as he continued to fumble with the lighter. Watching the lioson pick the lock with ease, the romas eyes straying back to the spot where he saw the other work earlier. As soon as the gate was getting pushed up he hit the gas and drove in between the gates. Standard procedure, the armored car provided exellent moving cover for the other squad. The tired proppeled the car forward in the snow.

The courtyard was massive, but once inside the gates it was ridiculus how big it felt. Hedges, massive rows of them, were long dead from neglect and the winters bite. They lined up the road up to the house, and josef imagined that in its heyday, this estate had been the envy of all. The trees were all large and twisted in strange ways, they stood like wooden arms gripping at the sky. Josef noted claw marks on one of them that was close to the road. Small gnashes, four of them, and about 2 inch deep. He wasn't sure what caused that.

"... Captain, claw marks on the trees." He spoke into his reciever. A walkie talkie built into the car. The toad was a well of technological wonders. "Looks to small to be ghoul." He said as he arrived at the front of the house"
Infront of the Mansion was fountain with the words "Trog macht der Freiheit" emblazoned into a copper plate at the foot of a statue that depicted a woman holding a large book aloft. The entire place gave Josef the creeps. Something in there was waiting for them. The research duo said so to from what he gathered and that meant trouble. Now, he was no rookie. He had seen action in Algeria, back before he became D.A.P.P.E.R. And as a operative, he had though ghouls and the odd shambling zombie were nasty to face on their own. Of course, a ghoul and zombie went down if you shot them in the head properly. But what was waiting for them, who knew what if would be capable of. He got out of the car, but let the door stay open. Taking refuge behind it for whatever reason.

"That house screams of bad karma." He muttered as he flipped the safety of his Ak onto semi.

About that time, the third team came back from the perimiter scan. One of them jogged up to Oliver. "Reporting Sir. We found traces of burn soil all across the back. It doesn't look fresh however. Corperal Langston thinks its the place of a cremation. He found pieces of bones in the soil. Human ones Sir."
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The snow is falling faster and heavier. Team 3 has come back from their recognicance. There evidence of cremation behind the house. A unknown entity awaits the operatives inside.
 
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"... Captain, claw marks on the trees. Looks too small to be ghouls"

"Duncan and Carl go check that out. I'll be there in a moment, Team two stack up at the door, but don't touch that door." Oliver said as he pulled his custom Colt 45. He flipped the safety off and scanned the area. Other than the claw marks, no clues seemed to jump out at him. The courtyard looked empty still, but something felt off. When you have been hunting for as long as he had, you grow a sixth sense of sorts. Almost like vague premonitions of what was to come. It was the same gut instinct that had kept him alive as a detective. Except now instead of finding crooks he was finding monsters and insane cultists. He just hoped that most of the men wouldn't die today. Every one knew the risks. The death toll among operatives in DAPPER was high. Too high. Especially after Japan. The captain kept his cool though. He had too. If he showed worry or concern too soon, his team might lose confidence. Oliver scanned the windows again, this time he thought he saw movement at the corner of his eye. He looked at the window that he thought he had seen movement but nothing was there. "Everyone have weapons at the ready. That house is not empty." Oliver warned.

"Reporting Sir. We found traces of burn soil all across the back. It doesn't look fresh however. Corporal Langston thinks its the place of a cremation. He found pieces of bones in the soil. Human ones Sir."

Captain Reese clenched his jaw tightly and nodded to the man. "Monsters don't cremate their victims. Cultists do." The hunter thought to himself. Pulling out his radio he addressed everyone. "We have could be dealing with some cultists people in addition to paranormal monsters. Team three set up a perimeter with in the walls and stay on watch. Report anything unusual as soon as it happens. No exceptions."

Oliver approached the claw marks. The braincases seemed to be in conversation. When those two started talking, even he had a hard time keeping up with them. He ignored them and inspected the marks himself. He was a hunter, recognizing these things were part of what he did. He ran his fingers across the marks and looked closely. They were indeed too small for a ghoul, but not too small for a crypt hound. The pattern of the claw marks were unclear to him at the moment. It wasn't a clean mark. What ever had made it wasn't intending to make it. Hounds typically protected something, most often a burial ground. Oliver looked around and didn't see any graves, but that didn't mean hounds couldn't be there. Bones collection was vast. Hounds could be guarding something within the castle. It didn't seem to far fetched that Old Bones might have some how subjugated some hounds for himself. A man of the counts prestige could do many things. Oliver wasn't even sure if it was possible to force monsters to your will, but if anyone could do it it was Count Bones."Duncan, I'm thinking Crypt Hound. What do you think?
 
The walkie-talkies were loud enough so that when Josef informed the captain of the claw marks everyone heard. Physical evidence. Carl frowned, crossing out several theories in his head then and there. Well, that meant that the it wasn't the Duke of Bones' spirit he'd picked up, or the spirit of anyone else who might have died in these historic walls. Actually, as Carl thought more thoroughly, there was no real proof that that wasn't exactly what he'd picked up. He'd have to examine the markings himself.

And so Oliver's order to check it out only reinforced what he'd immediately set out to do anyway. As he walked to the bent, black tree in question, one among many, he waved his EMF meter around, but it still gave only a trace of background noise. Perhaps the energy simply wasn't conducive with electric. He remembered Einstein's famous equation. Everything, at its most basic level, was energy, even seemingly solid matter. Including, he was still quite certain, ghosts and monsters.

There was a faint aura around the scratch marks. He walked up close to them and ran his finger in a couple of the grooves, as Oliver had done. They were rough. Probably fresh, though with this cold climate it was more difficult to say.

"Probably Hounds, yes," he said. He pulled out his vial and pressed it against the scratch marks. It glowed very, very faintly. He had to really study it to be sure it had changed color at all. Blue. He pulled a small container of kitchen salt out of his pocket and shook it over the claw marks. He saw a tiny bit of white steam through his Fae Glasses. He sniffed the air. Foul, like death. "Okay...definitely Hounds. If you ask me, the marks are almost consistent with marking territory.

"You said we could have cultists?" he asked, pocketing the vial again. "It's never reacted with people, but this - " he pointed to the claws. " - is inconsistent with the energy I detected outside. Now, this is just a theory...but the Hounds might be acting as guards for something. Something far more dangerous. Something - " he stopped and pointed the vial at the castle itself. Bright pink. - "Inside."
 
A Hellis-Limey Panda Collaboration

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Miyoki was, unashamed to admit, bored. She was not in her element at the moment, and didn't have any time to spend meditating or adequately preparing for what was to come. For one, she didn't actually know what was to come: which made preparing even harder. She felt the familiar comfort of the Katar blades at her side, wrapped up and ready to be equipped to the hilt of her weapon in a snap. It was feeling more and more like the group was going to be doomed to confusion and blind-ness, until reports came in of claw markings.

The smart people began to ponder and quantify the possibility of what they might be facing, and Miyoki felt a sudden growth of excitement and energy. A murmur was starting to rise about the threat being Crypt hounds, most likely. She grinned as the hunter of the group concurred with the initial diagnosis, which prompted Miyoki to slide the empty hilts of the Katar into one of the blades at her hip. The sound of a loud 'click' indicated that the blade had snapped into place, and as the Exterminator lifted the Katar into the starlight, she saw the comforting sheen of anointed steel glare back at her. At this rate, she wouldn't even require any of her artefacts.

The boss-man mentioned taking point with her, and Miyoki felt the excitement begin to crescendo into what would be a blazing pit of adrenaline that would fuel her for the night.

That is until the call came out for potential cultists.

…damn.

Miyoki was good at killing monsters, not humans. Humans had guns, and guns could do a number on her. She bit her bottom lip as the boss-man began talking, and Miyoki quickly realised that the smart people would occupy him for at least another few minutes. She saw the driver of the armoured van begin to manoeuvre his vehicle into the courtyard, and with nothing better to do, she followed it.

As he stepped out and fiddled with his AK, Miyoki strode up behind Josef, not hiding her presence at all; didn't make sense to scare a jumpy guy with an AK. "So…any thoughts on the situation so far? I'm Miyoki, by the way."

"Josef" The drivers spoke back in his usual, heavy Romanian accent. "Something's terribly off here. I can feel it." He said with a nod to the windows. He felt like they were being watched. Squad two had piled up on the side of the doors, veteran soldiers the lot of them. Some of them carried broadswords and sabres along with their guns.

Squad three was doing a sweep along the walls. It seems they too felt very tense, made obvious by the way they carried themselves.

Miyoki glanced at the window involuntarily as Josef indicated towards it, trying to stare in and see if she spotted anything. Sadly, she did not. "Whatever it is, I'll take it down no drama. Have you got any artefacts on you, or something? I've got a few casks of Holy water spare, if you want." The Sino-Englishwomen reaches into a pouch at her hip and pulls out a fist sized glass bottle, full of very clear looking water. "Wouldn't want the driver to get hurt, would we?" She smiles at the man, offering him real, easy-going sincerity, despite the obvious tension in the air.

"My cross. If it's just crypt hounds, it should work. I encountered one when I was 14. God and some luck saved me that day." He paused, as if considering what to say next. "You are that lady who punch stuff right?" Josef said, glancing at her katars. "I mean, We'll back you up, but you are still crazy for going in close with those things. But I heard about the Bremen job…was impressive."

Miyoki smile shifts slightly at the mention of the Bremen job, and her cheeks tinged slightly pink. She had hardly done anything that impressive in the little German town or anything. "Oh, it was nothing. Hardly crazy, if you know what you are doing." She turns her back to the driver as she pulls the coat closer to herself. "I'm just looking forward to being useful. The scientists are all doing their job and I'm just loafing around, looking out of place." She laughs a little, trying to ignore the small jitters forming. Crypt fiends didn't scare her, but standing around and waiting was getting her on edge, for sure.

As if on cue, the sound of many, many howls rang through the chill air. Suddenly, out of the ground leapt more crypt hounds then he had ever seen at once. "CONTACT!"
 
The snow fell harder as Shawn's breath began increasing, fogging his face. Bad karma was right, he didn't want to be in this courtyard anymore. He was getting less and less sure of his survival during this mission. His hands tightened around the tough wood and cold iron of his rifle as his bleary eyes darted around the stone walls of the courtyard and the mansion, trying to look into the curtained windows. He fumbled for his pocket as he reached for his walkie-talkie. "I... I really do not like being out in the open. What if these cultists have weapons?" He rushed to the Toad, the snow running past his feet. Cursing, he took cover behind the cold metal that was the Toad.

Seemed he was just in time. The screams of "Contact!" over the radio made his skin crawl. His lifted his hand to his chest to calm himself, and grasped the rifle with a new-found confidence. He braced for contact. A hound popped out from behind a tree. And another. And another. He looked around, and saw hounds in every place of escape. He lifted his rifle and fired at the oncoming mass.
 
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"Crypt Hounds are prob-" said as the Hounds descended upon group one. He was glad to have read up on such creatures before this assignment since he had never had the displeasure of meeting one in person. Now he was surrounded by 16 of them and only his wits and his skills the only thing to save him. He quickly reached to the vials attached to his belt as he begun to back pedal towards the armored car. In one hand, he gripped a vial of sage: an attractant of good spirits and is known to repel evil ones. In the other, a standard vial of holy water with nothing out of the ordinary added to it.

Upon first glance, the hounds looked like any other stray dog you might find wandering on the streets. On closer examination, however, they were in various stages of decay with eyes dangling from their socket or the occasional intestine dragging on the ground, leaving a black bile in its wake. They were extremely fast despite the obvious wounds inflicted on them pre-mortem.

While examining these strange new foes, Duncan had lit a match and begun to burn his holy sage and waft the smoke around himself and towards the general direction of the beasts. By the time this happened, he had backed up into the car, visibly shaken but with a determined look in his eyes.
 
"CONTACT!"

Immediately Oliver turned and saw the hounds coming out of the ground near Josef and Miyoki. There was over a dozen of them. His people were too spread out to fight the hounds. They needed to form up and fast. Oliver was a veteran. He had fought on the streets, in the war and against the paranormal. If anyone was ready for contact, it was him. What he was not ready for was Shawn leaving his post. The captain had assigned him to watch over Carl and Duncan. Instead, Shawn was hiding behind the Toad. He made note right then and there to reprimand him if he lived. "Josef, Miyoki and Shawn, form up with your backs to the toad till we get there. Duncan get behind them. Team two set up a firing line and cover us. Keep your backs to the door. Wilber get behind the firing line. Private Dusty, keep an eye on that door. Carl let's go." Oliver ordered sternly. His voice was raised, but still calm. Now was not the time for panic. The squad would form up a line and shoot at the hounds with their backs to the door so the hounds couldn't surround them. Oliver grabbed Carl roughly by the his coat and pushed him in front of himself. He had his pistol out was pushing Carl to the Toad. "Corral Langston, send whatever men are closest to us but have them hold until we can draw the hounds in, then on my signal flank them and shoot them down. LETS MOVE" Oliver yelled as ran with Carl to the toad while shooting at hounds.

Oliver was marksman with a pistol, still it was hard to hit the fast moving hounds. Any that got close he would have to use his sawed offs that were resting in their holsters on his thighs. As soon as he would meet up with the other three, they could use the Toad to drive to the door and give the firing squad something to hide behind. He had to get to the exterminators fast. Hopefully the firing squad could cover them long enough to get to the door. Oliver prayed that they would make it back okay. If they can just get everyone in a defensive half circle against the castle, they could hold off the hounds. Until team three could flank them. A hound came running straight for him maw open and blood leaking from it eyes. Oliver aimed for it's head and fired two shots.
 
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