Jack the Ripper: Hunter Clan

Having completed his crash-course, the rookie hunter must face missions where a single mistake can cost everything. Monsters are never to be taken lightly; reckless bravado ensures swift death.

Dodge what must be dodged. Wait for an opening. Then pull the trigger.

Weapons

Pistols, shotguns, machine guns—many tools of death are available, though whether you can afford them is another story. Price alone does not equal power. A true hunter knows when to draw which weapon; that is what separates veterans from greenhorns.

Ammunition

Most firearms were designed to slay humans; many monsters shrug off ordinary rounds. Experiment with different ammo types to find what truly wounds each foe. Hoarding bullets is prudent, but remember—your life depends on them.

Citizens & Police

One might expect hunters to be hailed as saviors for bringing a measure of sleep to Whitechapel, yet the opposite is true. Citizens distrust you; the police are openly hostile. Fending off monsters is bad enough—now bullets from Her Majesty’s constables rain down as well. Complain later; survive now.

The creatures in Whitechapel are grotesque and unreal. They did not fall from the sky; mankind made them, somehow. Pity has no place here. Few who see them live to tell.

✦ The Tarnished Slaves

A mass of human bodies fused into a grotesque, spider-like shape. Its devastating strikes hide brief blind spots created by its bulk. You may not be able to save the victims inside, but you can grant them final rest.

✦ The Grisler

A monster that resembles a living Minotaur—except this one is real and stalking tonight’s streets. Think you can stay safe by keeping your distance from its fists? Its impossible speed will prove you wrong. Never stand idle as it closes.

By 1888, London runs like a perpetual-motion engine. The industrial revolution is long past; no one calls it a revolution anymore because its horrors have become ordinary.

Workers slave without sleep, collapsing from exhaustion. Clean air is a forgotten luxury. Only the sooty chimneys crammed across endless factories hint at the countless laborers dying inside each day.

Pollution reaches its worst, yet the upper class—severed from reality—proclaims the future brighter than ever.

In humanity’s feverish pursuit of progress, an unforeseen side effect has been unleashed… and it now stalks the night streets of Whitechapel.

Arrival in London, 1888

Penniless and alone, the protagonist steps off the train in London. He is certain that in a city teeming with people lie countless chances to rise—just keep working and success will follow. No formal schooling, no trade to his name, yet he has armed himself with the resolve to tackle whatever work appears.

Reality is far harsher. The only jobs he finds are back-breaking, life-threatening tasks for wages barely high enough to keep him alive. He refuses to squander his youth in endless drudgery.

Just as he is about to give up, a shifty-looking stranger approaches.

“You’ve got a sturdy body. Interested in a job that pays real money?”

The words real money drown out everything else. Without a single question the protagonist follows the stranger. Whatever future awaits, one thing is certain: that stranger was not lying.

A Ramshackle Training Facility

Led by the stranger, the protagonist is taken to an underground compound beneath London’s Whitechapel district. It resembles a makeshift military camp. After a brief course in basic marksmanship he is told he will be deployed into actual combat—immediately.

Recently, unspeakable creatures have begun prowling Whitechapel after dark. Normal folk surrender the night to the monsters and barricade their doors. Yet others smell fortune in the fear. Beneath the streets, the clandestine hunters’ guild “Ripper” readies a new recruit while they await the arrival of a legendary hunter foretold in rumor.