Such hazards come with the territory as far as Festival of Blood's concerned.
Some of them were just, y'know, dead - partygoers in fancy dress costumes who I'd been cheerfully lamping for the last ten minutes or so. That's until I started to realise that some of them weren't actually undead. 'Pyre Night' celebrations had gripped New Marais pretty hard, real honest-to-goodness bloodsuckers were thronging the streets, and around the town square, I was laying into the undead left, right and centre, and feeling pretty good about things.
The thing about hunting vampires at Halloween is, well, you're going to have some problems with collateral damage.
