Blue Beating; Bloodbath on 99th Street

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Reference for Inspiration: http://www.myfoxchicago.com/story/27887145/woman-brutally-beaten-by-bat-wielding-trio

It was dark that night, in one of the parks of 99th street. Even in all the lights that littered this 'Chinatown'-esque section of the city, there were still parts of that luminous square that were as dark as the Midnight Continent itself, where only the stars in the sky were there to light the way.

A defenseless young woman, of whom was trying to make her way to the festivities of the party going on at the square of 99th, as was common in such a culturally popular part of the Dusk, found herself taking a turn down the wrong corner of the wrong alley at the wrong time that night.

"... The fuck is this bitch?" said one of the thuggish women lurking in the dark alley, of which all her gang members turned to meet the eye of.

"Someone who just fucked up," said the man standing next to her, already on the ready to snatch up his weapon of choice and bash her face in for whatever loot they could get for it.

Startled, the girl began to run, trying to find her way in a frantic fluster through the dark maze that were the streets of the more dangerous parts of this part of town... However, her assailants, money hungry and filled with malice for no real reason whatsoever, gave chase, seeing only their next target for whatever scraps they could get off of her, even if it was only a couple bucks. They would never know, and, if it was, what would have been on their heads? Something worth far more than quite possible the dollar or two that was within this young woman's pocket. Not that they thought that far ahead, clearly.

"I don't like the way she's looking at me..." Ashcroft muttered in Krikor's mind.

"Relax, Ashcroft," Krikor mentally responded.  "If she can help us get in contact with the others, we'll be golden.  Let's not throw away this opportunity."

"You see, Ms. Cheshire, it's like this," Krikor began explaining aloud. "I'm what's called a Sanguimancer, a blood mage.  When Sanguimancers first start out, we undergo a ritual that flushes all of our blood and cartilage out of our bodies while simultaneously replacing it with that of someone or something else.  We save a portion of our original blood, then, when we have gained more experience and wisdom, convert that blood into a metal called blood ore, which is what all of my armor and sword are made out of.  When the blood is converted into blood ore, the ore itself -- and, by extension, anything the ore is forged into -- takes on the personality and memories of the person it came from.  As such, they're not machines, but they do have individual souls of their own."

"I'm not sure what good feeding them souls would do -- though my sword, Mara, was particularly bloodthirsty, she'd probably enjoy it -- but it sounds like there are some people knowledgeable about what's going on somewhere in this world. Oh, and to answer your question, yes, they can take a physical form, called a Bloodwraith; however, without all of their power contributing to mine, I can't give them their form."

"I think that would be prudent, unless you need me to explain something to someone. I recall you being mad at me for interrupting your work?" Krikor replied, a quizzical look on his face. "If you need me to apologize to a superior or something, I will." There's a sincere tone to his voice, like he genuinely wants to make things right if something could go wrong.