The hunters gathered.

The way to the Chandler household was twisty and difficult to navigate, but in the end they all arrived in their own time. Robert met them upon the porch each in turn, looking down at them somberly for several moments before offering each a quiet greeting and thanks. The strange man seemed distracted several times whenever spoken to, his eyes often buzzing about as though the answers he needed were flickers of light just within his peripheral vision. Yet upon crossing the doorway into his home, he would turn about and look each in the eyes. In that brief instant, the man no longer seemed as lost and would say the same to everyone who entered his house: "Never invite anyone in without asking me first." No explanation was given, no reasonings made. Just a simple statement that no one should give another permission to enter the house.

Robert still had done little to reorganize or move his vast literary collection. A table had been cleared off in what must have once been the dining room, and half of a couch was now visible sitting before the great fireplace within the living room. The many bedrooms upstairs were cleaned out as well, and the sheets and blankets all freshly laundered for his guest's comfort. He bid those who needed a place to stay to take any room of their choosing save for the last at the end of the hall, saying simply that the master bedroom was his. Otherwise they should all make themselves at home and do their best not to move too many of his books around. He did apologize about the food situation. "I don't eat much," mumbled the hollow eyed scholar vaguely, "and I didn't know what anyone would want. If someone wants to run into town later, I can cover expenses. There's no food delivery out this far that I know of. I tried ordering Dominos Pizza once... They thought it was a practical joke. I think I have some ramen left if you're hungry now. And there's some coffee in the pot by the sink... or there was a month ago. I've got lots of tea, though."

Once as many arrived as he could reasonably expect, he asked everyone to join him around the dining room table. Several large maps of Boston and the surrounding area had been laid out along side newspaper clippings, internet printouts, photos, and books on local history. It was early evening when they held the first meeting; that was when Robert functioned best, even if it made the eccentric traits that marked him all the more apparent.

"So... Yeah, thanks again for coming." He paused as he tried to figure out what to say next; thrust into a vague role of leadership, his mind scrambled for what was worth mentioning and what wasn't. This was not a comfortable situation for him at all. Still, they were all [i]looking[/i] at him! Robert had a difficult time not mumbling at first and was unable to meet anyone's eyes, staring instead glassily at the table around which they all stood. His voice was quite, distant.

"For those of you who don't know the area, The... Society of Leopold had sponsored a group of hunters known as the Forlorn Hope to keep an eye on things... and to take care of any troubles that arose. I was part of that group." There was a long pause, and Robert's voice quavered a bit even as his hands shook slightly. In all the time that had passed, he hadn't spoke to anyone of what had happened for the simple reason that there was no one he knew of who would believe him. Opening up now in front of other hunters, even strangers, released emotions that he struggled to control. His voice dropped to a hush. "Two years ago almost the entire group was wiped out. We walked into... something. A war, a battle, an ambush... They tore... They tore us apart faster than you could blink and by the morning? I was the only survivor. Since then it's... been quiet."

Squaring his shoulders and looking at the table, he gestured to the array of papers. "Until recently. It's nothing obvious at first glance. Put it together and you can tell that something is going on." As he spoke, his voice began to gain some strength. Facts and figures! They were his saving grace. The emotion was for the past and now he needed to focus on business, on now. Robert shoved the grief off as he always did, always putting it into the back of his mind so he could at least get through the day in front of him, always telling himself he would deal with it later and never doing so. Instead, it always came back in nightmares to haunt him.

"To begin with, the levels of violence within the city have risen rapidly in just the past few weeks. Assault, kidnappings, and murder, mostly. By itself, that's nothing, and I wouldn't have blinked twice. Only there's been a sharp increase in animal attacks as well, both in and around the city. Oddly enough, none of the witness or survivors can agree on what sort of animal they were each attacked by. Sighted species include: black bears, cougars, bobcats, Canadian lynx, coyotes, large dogs, grey wolves, and one woman... one woman is adamant that it was a Sasquatch. Leaving that last one aside for now, all of these are possible but not highly probably given the location of many of the attacks. And while there have been substantiated reports of grey wolf sightings in the state, more sightings have been documented of late regarding unidentified wolf species that are definitely not grey wolves. This map here shows the locations of all of the attacks within the past year. There's an index... here... that gives all the information.

"The local hospitals are desperately trying to keep up with the influx, emergency rooms are filled nightly, urgent care centers are filled daily, and the major thing in demand by everyone... is blood." Robert pushed forward several documents from the Red Cross and local media, as well as a public bulletin by the CDC. "There is an extreme shortage of blood supplies in the Boston area, which is strange because donations are at an all time high. The trouble is that a lot of the donors coming in are highly anemic. Even existing supplies are strained. The media has been going on thefts and black markets, but there's no evidence to any of it."

Next Robert pointed out the newspaper clippings and the police blotters. "What's most concerning is the number of missing persons reports. Those, too, are on the rise, up over 35% from the previous ten year average. There's generally nothing connecting any of the missing people... except for these seven." One fine finger tapped on an article. "Seven military veterans went missing from the VA hospital all in the same night. Some were in the ER, some were in-patients, one was just a visitor. Hospital logs showed they all entered, but nothing shows any of them leaving. Security videos showed nothing. The story was big news for a day... and then nothing. Like it was squashed. This second map and index also give all the details about each incident; names, last known locations, occupations, marital status, and... Well, you get the idea."

Robert looked up and licked his lips nervously. "So at a guess, after reviewing all of the relevant date and some of the not so relevant gossip, we're looking a large scale vampire infestation. Bigger than Chicago, maybe. And outside of it, all around and just outside the suburbs with occasional forays into urban areas? Werewolves. Or at least some other creature than can either change its shape or otherwise camouflage itself well enough to avoid tracking." His briefing finished, the scholar coughed and blushed a bit. "At least... that what it seems like." 

Robert gestured in the direction of the old stone barn outside. "My family's been filling the barn with junk for decades. If you think anything's of use, you're welcome to it. I doubt there's any sort of weapons in there, not unless you're into rusty axes and scythes, but if you find something useable take it. If you think the barn itself is usable as... I dunno, an armory, a workshop, whatever... go ahead and clean it out. There's some old cars and a steam powered traction engine in there if you tinkering with that sort of stuff. Just be warned that it doesn't have the same sort of protections on it that the house does, except for the barn hexes. Lots of iron rods in the foundations and running through the stones, though, just in case you're worried about faeries." His voice was absolutely deadpan. 

"I'll leave it you folks with the guns and things that go boom to figure out where we go from here. I just don't recommend all out war in the middle of the city, is all. Beyond that... I'm... not much of a leader. Sorry." And it was clear that he meant it. "But if there's any information you need, anything you want researched? I know where to look and not look."

He paused then, eyes flickering as though he had forgotten something. "Oh," he concluded absently, "There's a big Saratoga trunk up on a couple of palettes towards the back wall of the basement? You probably shouldn't dig around in it. It's got a special collection of books that... ah... If you've ever heard the term 'never see the light of day? It kinda applies to a lot of those for a bunch of different reasons."

Looking around at the assembled faces, Robert retreated back into his shell again, shrugging. "So... there you have it."

The effort of dealing with so many people at once combined with the emotional toll the memories brought was too much for him. "I'll... leave folks to look everything over. If you... if you need me I'll be on the back porch."