Due to the horses not needing a break they arrived back in Stena earlier than expected, the gate opening for them as they trot up to it. Jumping out of the back of the wagon after waving goodbye to the workers. The workers begin conversing with the gate guard as Crimson’s team begins walking back towards Stena’s main building.

“This haul was so worth it,” Echo confirms happily looking through the sack of materials Deidra is hauling. “I was about to go mental without this stuff.”

“Can smithing be addictive?” Crimson asks in curiosity,

“She does seem rather dependent on it.” Deidra agrees.

“It’s not the worst thing she could be addicted to,” Mon says. “I mean; it gets us cool stuff right?”

“Isn’t Crimson supposed to be the one to get bullied?” Echo groans in annoyance. “I’m not liking this shift in dynamic.”

“Everyone gets a turn, after all you’re the weakest link at the moment.” He says with a hint of satisfaction.

“Ugh, I’m gonna go report our success,” She says annoyed. “Can you bring those materials to the forge for me Deidra?”

The two split off towards their destinations leaving Crimson and Mon now walking towards the spiral stairs.

“Guess it’s just us going to ask Grunt then.” Crimson says with a huff.

“Oh, I was going to go get some food. We didn’t really have time to eat lunch after all,” Mon says hurriedly. “Don’t worry I’ll save you a spot and some milk!”

Crimson goes to argue but can’t as he watches her hop off the staircase and onto the canteen floor, quickly outpacing his ascent. Shaking his head, he continues to climb the staircase until coming up to the third to last floor. Stepping onto the floor he looks around. The floor had multiple long hallways opening up immediately in front of him. A small lounge area spread out next to the staircase, a few members milling about in it. Some look at him confused but none give him any trouble. Crimson steels his nerves as he begins walking through one of the hallways before quickly realizing that none of the doors had any type of discernable markings. Anxiety begins to creep onto Crimson before he spots a janitor exiting one of the rooms. Deciding to take his chances he walks up to it.

“Hello, can you tell me where Grunt is?” Crimson asks slowly.

Crimson sees a green tinge blossom from the janitor’s hood as it begins walking away from him. Choosing to take that as a yes, Crimson follows it. Eventually, after walking past an unreasonable number of rooms, the janitor stops in front of the room at the very end of the hall. Before he can say anything it leaves him in front of it.

“I’m getting sick of people up and leaving,” He says slightly angry. “…I hope he’s here.”

Knocking on the door he steps back and waits. The rapping of a locking mechanism sounds as the door opens.

“Oh! Hey hypno,” A shirtless, sweat covered grunt says. “Why are you here?”

Shaking off his initial confusion Crimson continues with his objective.

“My team and I found something disconcerting while on a mission to a nearby refinery,” He says quickly. “We figured someone need to know, but we weren’t really sure who to go to.”

“Well I’m glad you’d come to me,” He says with a brotherly grin. “What’d you find?”

Crimson quickly reiterated the incident, focusing on the odd death of the two Butchers and the organization of the attackers.

“Well…that is concerning,” Grunt says as he leans against the door frame. “Not any bandits I’ve heard of. Maybe they’re getting organized?”

“Their leader had well-crafted gear, stuff rivaling a lot of the gear Stena has to offer.” Crimson interjects.

“He could have taken it off one of the Butchers, but that’s unlikely. Most equipment is usually custom and or unusable by normal people,” Grunt muses. “Could be one of the opposing hunter groups, though they’ve never tried to oppose us before.”

“Opposing hunters?” Crimson asks confused

“Just a few small fries, some try to take our territory and work from time to time,” He explains, grunting after. “I’ll tell one of the senior members. Thanks for letting me know.”

He goes to leave but Crimson stops him by putting his hand on the door.

“I actually have a few more questions.” He says quickly.

Grunt is about to come back but the sound of bed springs makes him look back to Crimson while closing the door.

“Vulture’s room is right there,” He says, pointing four doors down. “Go ask her, I’m too busy for anything else.”

Without another word the door closes, leaving Crimson alone once again. Seeing no other option, he walks towards the indicated door and knocks.

After waiting for longer than he would have liked the door eventually opens to a very bedraggled Vulture looking at him. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes she looks at him for a moment before putting her finger up in a “One sec” gesture and closes the door.

Waiting another long while the door eventually opens to Vulture looking much similar to how he first met her. Major difference being the lack of blood and armor.

“What’s up ranger?” She asks with a smile.

“I was going to ask Grunt some questions but he referred me to you.” Crimson responds honestly.

“I wasn’t your first choice?” She asks, faking disbelief. “I’m hurt…though I’m not surprised he pushed you onto me. He’s busy right now after all. What did you need to ask?”

“Well, after our recent job we realized we were missing some pretty basic information,” He says. “Like, who do we report sensitive information to, or the right response to take when we are attacked by non-monsters.”

“Come on,” She says as she walks past him and towards the staircase. “I’m hungry and this is going to take way too long.”

“Lunch then?” He asks as he hurries beside her. “Mon is currently there; she should have saved me a spot.”

“It’s lunch time?” She asked, showing her lack of an internal clock. “Whatever. That’ll work.”

Walking down the stairs, they enter the canteen and quickly spot Mon sitting in her usual table closest to the food. The girl’s ears poke up as the step off the stairs and she looks towards them, a smile on her face before her eyes zero in on Vulture.

“I so love feeling like prey,” Vulture says as her own eyes land on Mon. “She acts far too much like Fey for me to eat comfortably.”

“Really? She seems nothing like Fey in my opinion, aside from the point of view on lives.” Crimson says.

“You haven’t spent enough time around Fey then,” She explains as they continue walking. “It’s all in the eyes, the way they trace you, the way they check all the most sensitive parts first. They see all the ways to kill you, sometimes I think they have to hold themselves back from doing it.”

“You act as if they’re monsters.” Crimson accuses.

“I’m not sure if Mon has it in her,” Vulture muses as they approach. “But for Fey…monster is a lacking description.”

Mon’s predator like gaze had disappeared by the time they had sat down, now replaced with a surprising caution. Mon didn’t say a word as they sat down, simply messing with her food for a moment.

“Relax,” Vulture says, leaning back against her chair. “I don’t hold it against you. No need to act like a scorned kid.”

“I didn’t mean to, I thought she was gone and I was so an-“ She begins but is cut off.

“Don’t. At least I’m alive,” Vulture says with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t be here if Fey thought you were gone. Now no more of this. I’m going to get food and then you two can ask all your questions.”

She stands up and heads towards the long line of food being served. Crimson checks to see Mon looking much better and now happily eating her food. Seeing this he stands to get his own food. Grabbing a healthy serving of nearly everything, his eating habits starting to resemble Mon’s, he sits back down with Vulture just behind him.

Removing his gloves, he begins to dig into the food but then looks up to Mon.

“You did wash up before this right? You were the only one of us to get bloodied.” He asks.

Instead of answer she dangles her hips to show him her gauntlets strapped to her side, the blood now dried.

“I’m not eating with them at least.” She says with a full mouth. The lamb she was eating clearly a priority.

“So,” Vulture interrupts as she sits down, already munching on numerous items of food. “What exactly did you want to ask?”

“Well it was mainly where to take important information we find. Among other things, I guess what to do with prisoners, any notable organizations we should be wary of, and what to do should we encounter them.” He says quickly.

Vulture begins thinking about it as she continues to eat. As she eats she noticeably begins to look healthier, the sleep in her eyes disappearing.

“For one, you take anything you feel would be vital to Stena to the top. All the way up the staircase, someone will help you from there,” She says as she takes a bite of a fresh loaf of bread. “Don’t take prisoners unless instructed to, though that’s up to the team. Improvisation is important after all.”

“We just walk all the way up to the top? No one checks our claims?” Crimson asks confused.

“Yep, they figure that if you have the gall to do that then anything you have to say is worth hearing. They are pretty intimidating after all.” She explains.

“And no prisoners? What if it’s a kid or something?” Mon says with a cock of her head.

“Stuff happens,” Vulture admits with a shrug. “It’s up to the person.”

Mon nods slowly, the thought of killing a kid not sitting well with her.

“As for the organizations, one of the worst is the Mutts. Real freaks, try to copy what we do by just attaching pieces of monsters to themselves though I have no idea how they do it. I’ve also heard of some purist hunters. Hate us and anything else to do with monsters, including the Mutts. Those two groups usually keep each other occupied, the only other important one is something of a Stena legend,” She lists. “Apparently there are groups of Butchers and Sirens that go on raiding parties to go and drink forbidden prey, the most notable being Kinslo.”

As she says those words Crimson tenses slightly, Mon however manages to hide her surprise.

“That doesn’t seem like something Stena would like, isn’t it like a golden rule not to do that?” Mon says through bites of her food, her nonchalant speech betrayed by the anger in her eyes.

“They don’t, they’ve had people killed for it,” Vulture agrees. “But it’s hard to root it out, especially when its seen more as a ghost story. Like a past misdeed that no one wants to talk about. I think they just want to bury it.”

“But it’s happened?” Crimson questions, leaning in closer.

Vulture nods, leaning in close as well.

“It’s not something many would talk about, but it’s definitely happened,” She says. “I wish I could ignore it has happened but I can’t, not with a second-hand account.”

Crimson perks up at the mention of an actual recollection of one, even if it wasn’t first hand.

“So, where did you get this ‘second hand account’?” He asks, hoping she wouldn’t shoot down his question.

“I’m not one to kiss and tell,” She says. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“Worth a shot.” He says as his suspicions grew.

“You probably won’t ever see a group doing that,” She says. “Much less have to actually confront them. But if you do find one, don’t mess with them. If they’re willing to kill a bunch of innocents for power, I’d bet they’re willing to try and kill you to keep it secret.”

“Let’s hope that never happens, killing fellow Stena members would be hard,” Mon says as she hands a plate to one of the janitors. “What about the ‘Mutts’ and those purists you talked about?”

“Meh, just kill’em,” Vulture advises. “They won’t hesitate and neither should you.”

“How long have they been a problem?” Crimson asks.

“They’ve never been much of a problem. They’re more like stray dogs or wild animals to us,” She explains. “Only a problem if you’re unlucky, or get caught off guard.”

“It’s never a good thing to underestimate the enemy.” Mon says seriously.

“We don’t. They’re deadly, but not deadlier than monsters,” Vulture reasons. “So they aren’t a priority and I doubt they ever will be. Monsters however, never cease to be a major problem.”

Crimson nods solemnly at the answer. His experience with monsters compared to bandits showing that.

“Anything else then?” Vulture asked, now full and clearly bored. “I’m rather ready to either do something, or go back to sleep.”

“When do we stop being hounds?” Crimson blurts out, the question appearing in his mind suddenly.

“The best answer I can give to that…well, its whenever the senior members can’t control you,” Vulture answers with a shrug and a slight grin. “Now is that it?”

Crimson looks over to Mon to see her shrug in response.

“So that’s a yes?” Vulture says, getting two nods in affirmation. “Well ok then, I’m gone. One last thing though, ask Fey about the Kinslo raids when you get the chance. If you care that is.”

Without waiting for a response she gets up and begins heading down the spiral stairs.

“I think I need a nap,” Mon says as she rubs her stomach lazily. “No, I definitely need one.”

“Honestly, after today I think I also need one,” Crimson agrees as he leans back in his chair. “Any comfortable spots your willing to reveal?”

“Not on your life.” She says immediately.

“That hurts. Not even your least favorite spot?” Crimson pleads kiddingly.

“Maybe if you’re good.” Mon says as she jumps up from her seat, lazily walking towards the spiral stairs.

Crimson shakes his head, standing after a while then heading towards their room.