"I can't fault your logic there," Qui says, shortly. He waves all but two of the remaining mercenaries back out into the sewers. "Lucca and Jordan, I need you to help my people collect any Kindred who haven't been destroyed. Agad the Imperishable will assist me with our friend, Henrik."
"There's a key next to the vials," Lang says.
It takes you a moment to browse the dark-stained tabletop and find the tiny silver key—it's been saturated in gore and stuck to the wood. You have to pry it up with your fingernails.
Stepping carefully around the Blood trough, you reach up to slip the key into the iron shackle. It looks ancient and reminds you of one of Alisha Grey's exhibits on medieval torture devices. "Ah," Lang says when the device springs open. "Free again." He hobbles behind the table and retrieves what you presume to be his clothes, pulling a deep-black shirt over his head. When he's fully dressed he leans over the table and starts plucking vials of Blood from the collection and stuffing them into his pockets. "Can't let them go to waste," he mutters to himself.
Next
As you wait for the eccentric Primogen to collect himself—prisoner or no, you can't parade him through the streets Blood-soaked and in the nude—you avert your eyes and notice Qui speaking quietly with the lone Sewer Rat. From what little you can make out without intentionally prying into their private conversation, it sounds like they have a long history together. It's somewhat surprising—despite being a Nosferatu himself, Qui usually does his best to avoid others of his clan. To your knowledge he's rarely associated closely with the locals.
On a whim, you take another look at the photograph of a young teenage girl you took from LaFlamme's corpse. His daughter, Heather. Saved by Sheriff Qui from the Sabbat. You look back to the young vampire. The Nosferatu curse treated her worse than most—her hair is gone except for a few errant grey strands twisting through a bald pate littered with oozing open sores. Her nose is twisted and distorted into a parody of a human face, her cheeks are blotchy and covered with whiskers. And yet…that impish smile. You look back at the photo. It's her. It's definitely her. Does she know what just happened to her father? Did LaFlamme know what she became after Qui "saved" her? The mercenaries' riot gear covered most of their distinguishing features; in all likelihood she doesn't even know he was killed.