Dark Heresy - Wisdom is the beginning of fear.

[Capntastic]

Tools corrode with use. Weapons break, and jam. This is the way of things; why there are techpriests to mend them.

The aura of lasfire all around him and the heat and smoke of the burning tents and the thumping of his own heart were naught more but a forge for his spirit and mind- gifts of the Emperor, honed in this fashion over the years.

The forge of battle had heated and hammered at Mik's mind and soul many times. And, as a blacksmith would know not to hammer a completed glowing hot blade into smithereens in the hope of somehow tempering the steel into a higher state, Mik knew when to quench his own temper.

Aiming the shotgun at the prone heretic before him, he fired it once, and then stepped back to fall in line with Xerxes.

[Jak Snide]

Aristarchus turned to Mithras and shook his head, the stench fading gradually. The seer was unwounded, yet his appearance still shocked Mithras. For the first time since he'd been placed under the man's command the psyker seemed old, the bright spark in his eyes gone and the lines of his face more pronounced.

Mikolas and Xerxes kept firing, the former retreating as las-fire continued to puncture the air around him. A nearby detonation made the pair duck reflexively, shards of shrapnel whizzing through the tent their left. Amidst this chaos Aristarchus laid a hand on Mithras' chest and focused his powers again.

The guardsman watched as his charred flesh paled and reformed itself, now an inflamed pink. While the pain dulled his skin crawled at the sight of something so unnatural.

Crisis watched as Kos'ke's laspistol grazed the head of the man with a faulty lasgun as his hand-vox sputtered to life, Mithras' voice distorted and grainy. He raised his sights slightly and put a bullet through the temple of the man behind him, the target dead before he hit the ground. The man Kos'ke had injured threw himself into the melee, drawing a straight blade. The milita with Abbot Skae swarmed in, swiftly surrounding the two men but failing to put them down. Lamark and Skae advanced towards the melee, both chanting a prayer as the former raised his lasgun and waited for an opportunity. The other priest, the one called Severus, scurried away and across the road to take cover behind the imobile truck, a long-las clutched in both hands.

(Map updated. Mithras has been healed 2 wounds, though the experience was highly unnerving. The only fatality this turn belongs to Crisis, everyone else bar Kos'ke failing to even hit their targets.)

---

Cryvus watched as the dying man's wound began to close. But it wasn't enough. It hadn't fully sealed and blood was still seeping out onto the ground. He almost didn't hear Mithras' message as it crackled through his vox.

(Check your PMs)

[Christian]

Witchcraft...

The words blazed before his eyes almost as if written on his retina by the God-Emperor Himself. Heresy, witchcraft... The things that had happened, the things he'd blinded himself too... they became clear in an instance as a mask of rage covered his face, smeared across his visage as he tore away from the seer, forcing down the bile that was rising...

He had been placed with Aristarchus for a reason, and he would not doubt the words of the Inquisitor. He knew better. She knew best. With the briefest of nods, the closest he could get to a thank as the wound healed and the pain in his chest abated, he set off past the seer, clutching his weapon to his chest, breath shallow as he had to mentally force every muscle in his body not to turn and fry the brains of the seer... mutants... His teeth were clenched as he checked the light on the vox attached to the strap on the left side of his chest, dashing past Xerxes and Mikolas, hunched low to present as small a target as possible before sliding to a halt next to another burning tent.

[Run to D20... which I think I should manage? Otherwise, run to C19]

[Capntastic]

Mik moved to a position that would grant a better view towards the gates.

(Run to R-27)

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis, on the other hand, had no need to move...and he had one major target still in sight. The communication could wait for the fight to die down; as it was, it was better that that the fight be ended...

[Aim, fire on FE5. Who is so delightfully unaware.]

[Kelne]

Cryvus looked up to meet the woman's eyes, "There is risk in another attempt," he said, "Too much and his body will reject all that has gone before, hastening his demise. If you know where a medic may be found, that would be the safer course. Otherwise, we can only trust his fate to the Emperor."

[Jak Snide]

Aristarchus slumped to the ground as Mithras dashed forwards, speeding past Xerxes as he launched another shot around the corner, his target flinching and weaving. Mikolas dashed around the corner, putting himself squarely in the sights of the raider Xerxes had just shot at. Fortunately the man toppled over a moment later, a ragged hole punched through his flak vest by a silenced shot. The warrior watched a mob of town militia and what remained of Kos'ke's men bring down the two foes they'd surrounded as the warchief himself stalked forwards, turning his head to yell a question.

"You there, champion of the God-Emperor! Why did the Voicers attack so? This is madness, even for them! What has Skae done to anger Warlord Seth?"

His attention turned towards the two priests that approached them, the Abbot himself and Brother Lamark. The former was still belting out encouragements and prayers, while the later simply gave Mikolas a reserved nod, lasgun clutched tightly in both hands.

(Map updated. Mikolas can't make out anything useful in the distance. The burning tents are truly aflame now and the smoke being blown across the road by the wind is enough to impair his vision.)

---

The woman's face conveyed her emotional turmoil to Cryvus. The horror of her father's situation had only been added to by the direct experience of warpcraft, the benevolence barely a mitigating factor. The old man's steady demeanour and tone only confused her further. Her eyes flicked between him, her father and the sky above before, upon the realisation that there would be no divine intervention, she nodded her head weakly in consent and Cryvus reached out to the injured man again.

He watched in horror as the man's flesh began to twist and deform, a cry of one being driven mad escaping from the young woman's mouth as she clutched her face. It discoloured, turning a horrible dark purple and began to flow together, the recipient howling in pain and jarred into consciousness.

A moment later the wound was sealed, a huge, dark bruise the only reminder of the mortal injury there moments before. The girl collapsed into a sobbing mess, wrapping her arms around her father. In response his head lolled to one side as he emptied his morning meal all over the ground.

[Christian]

Mithras saw little of what was happening from where he'd come, he glanced around merely to spot friendlies and non-friendlies, beads of sweat trickling down his face as the fires engulfed the tents... peoples' lives were ruined, their meager belongings stolen from them by these raiders...

He shoulders his lasgun and unsnapped the buckle keeping his axe strapped to his belt, gripping the head and jerking it up into the air, twisting his hand and catching the wooden grip of it, turning it around so the blunt side would be the one to inflict damage... He was going to get answers for this.

Having been able to run this far, he decided to test his luck once more. He darted out between the tents, running a short distance towards another inferno, his legs working furiously as he kept low in case of enemy fire. They had almost won... here at least... he had no idea how things were elsewhere... a silent prayer played on his lips as he prepared himself for the last stage of his plan...

('Holstering' lasgun and bringing out axe, intending to try to cause non-lethal(!!) damage to remaining enemies, and then running to F13.)

[Kelne]

Deciding that his further presence would only further strain the situation, Cryvus withdrew somewhat, keying his vox to check in with the others.

"His Will is done. Do you require aid?"

[Capntastic]

Mik ran straight down the road, bellowing to any remaining heretics in earshot.

"You chose the wrong fething day! To attack the wrong fething village! Of the wrong fething people! In the wrong fething Empire!"

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis continued to point his rifle down the road...there was at least one more who got away. He was certain of it--only because nobody had gone in the direction that the first escapee went...it would have to be dealt with, to say the least...

[Delay action, fire upon FB or FE2 if either comes out in the open]

[Jak Snide]

Mithras noticed Xerxes slipping forward as he did, wearing a mean look and clutching a sparking shock maul in one hand. As Mikolas ran down the road bellowing threats a shot lanced out from behind the tent, barely missing him. A trio of shots punched through the cloth of the burning structure, one a silenced bullet and the other two lances of energy. The protruding lasgun vanished around the corner as the warrior heard the approach of the town militia and the ever-preaching Abbot. Severus slipped forward to his right, long-las still held tightly.

(Map updated. Mikolas isn't hit thanks to the penalty to shooting at running targets, and FE2 takes a glancing hit from Lamark's lasgun through the tent.)

---

Cryvus got the distinct impression that he wasn't going to get a response any time soon. The formerly injured man was still emptying his stomach and trying to comprehend what had happened while his daughter was still sobbing, though he could hear babbled prayers of thanks to the Emperor amidst the noise. The pack of children approached slowly, some crying, all distraught and most staring at the strange old man.

[Capntastic]

"Oh, now you have really fethed up!"

Mik changed directions fluidly, keeping his momentum and increasing his speed. As he stampeded, he drew his grisly bat.

(Charge at J-11)

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis, reloaded, noting that he was out of ammo once again. It'd be a waste to try to shoot with such a risk of injuring Xerxes anyway. He's actually COMPETENT. Unlike other people he knows...


[Reload]

[Christian]

Mithras was close. Very, very close. He'd seen the odd brush of movement, and he felt that tingle down his spine... the one that'd kept him safe for weeks in no man's land... And he was going to do exactly what it told him not to, and it seemed a stupid, stupid thing to do...

"Heresy begets retribution!" He roared as he dashed around the corner of the blazing tent, axe in hand, ready to strike at his enemies, the enemies of mankind, of Him. His eyes were pinpricks of anger as he swung high, aiming at the head of the man around the corner, hoping to catch him off-guard while any of his comrades could provide aid from the other side...

But at this stage, he was convinced, wholly certain that the Emperor was with them. Although he had acted through a... mutant, he had shown his favor, and Mithras was not a man who would turn from such a portent!

(Moving to G11 and attacking FB with the Axe.)

[Jak Snide]

Mithras leapt around the corner, axe already in motion, but the raider was too fast for him, ducking beneath the blow, a straight-edged blade menacing in one hand. The other remaining raider wasn't so lucky. Xerxes rushed around the corner and drove his maul down into his leg. He crumpled with the horrible crack of a broken bone, convulsing on the ground as the weapon's electric discharge rendered him helpless.

A moment later Mikolas, who'd been charing at that very man, neatly leapt over his prone form and swung his own bludgeon into the sword arm of the man Mithras had attack. The man roared in pain, dropping his sword as the former guardsman watched his face contort into one of exceptional pain.

Their allies closed in around them, cutting of any chance of escape and ready to put the last of the attackers to death.

(Map updated. The man Xerxes attacked is on the ground with a broken leg and stunned for a significant amount of time. The one between Mikolas and Mithras has lost the use of his sword arm for just as long and is, for the next round, stunned from the pain. Crisis can no longer see what's going on behind the tent, but he doubts it's going well for the raiders. Cryvus may move to join the combat here should he wish, though it'll take him a few turns to arrive.)

[Christian]

"No mercy, no surrender..." Mithras muttered as he saw the man clutch at his struck arm, a somber and determined look on his face as the axe fell from his hand, his right hand unholstering and drawing the pistol at his side. One was down, that was all they needed.

With a twitch in the corner of his mouth he raised the weapon quickly, aiming it between the eyes of the man. His own were narrow, almost close, a cold look of hatred on his face as he delivered the Emperor's justice to the traitorous scum.

(Half-turn aiming, then firing in the face(aiming at head, so no -40 I presume?) of FB)

[Jak Snide]

The man started to mouth something, fighting through the pain, but the punctuation provided by Mithras' laspistol cut him short and, as a result, covered Mikolas in giblets of smoking brain matter. Behind him the militia laid into the sole surviving raider, eliciting additional screams of pain from between gritted teeth. Xerxes seemed keen to join in as well, delivering a sharp blow to the groin that rendered him unconscious. The beating continued until the abbot stepped forward and barked for them to cease their attack.

"Take him to the Cathedral." he commanded, his voice firm and his face a mask of hatred. "We shall make an example of him before the faithful. Brother Lamark! See to the flames and the injured then join us beneath the gaze of Drusus."

The captive, face covered with bruises and eyes swollen shut, was hefted by two of the militia and hauled away. Lamark was setting about commanding those that remained to fetch water when Aristarchus approached the acolytes, leaning heavily on his staff.

"Come, to the Cathedral. Summon the others. It is important that you witness the fate of the heretic."

(Combat is over, though Aristarchus is already issuing them new commands. Crisis and Cryvus will have little to no idea what is going on until someone notifies them, of course.)

[Capntastic]

Mik was content to nod, wiping his face off with a rag he'd kept in one of his many pockets.

"So we're not gonna beat on him until a new tire for my truck emerges, eh? Or some new tents? And what else?"

Mik scowled as the heretic was drug away.

"I'm glad you guys got somethin' better in mind than me. 'Coz while satisfyin', in a certain type of way, I don't think my particular blend of... heretic fatin' would be most useful, in the long run."

[Christian]

Mithras nodded silently as the body of the heretic slumped to the ground, holstering his weapon and fishing up the axe from the ground, ignoring the sound of the other man being beaten by the remaining militia and Xerxes.

His rage was abating, but he felt... he shook his head as he tried to clear it from the remorse that stung silently in the corner of his mind like a wounded beast. These hadn't been mutants or xenos or witches... Heretics were terrifying, because they proved that even normal humans could become so twisted as to turn from the light of Him.

He flicked the com-switch of the portable vox-unit and spoke into it:

"Crisis, Cryvus, we are done. The heretics are dead."

[Kelne]

Judging that he would not arrive on the scene in time to make a difference (an opinion soon confirmed by Mithras), Cryvus turned his attention to checking the bodies scattered about for signs of life. He thought it unlikely that there would be any, but he should be sure.

With this done, he made for the cathedral. If this had been a distraction, surely their foe would have made a move at the monument to the Emperor's Glory.

[Jak Snide]

Cryvus sound no signs of life among the fallen. The vicious axes the raiders wielded had inflicted horrific wounds, severing limbs and hacking open torsos. His own kills were clean, holes punched through his foes with system shock claiming those whose wounds were not instantly fatal. The militia seemed to have used their bludgeons well, for all the good it did the-wait. Movement among the bodies. One raider still lived, breathing shallowly, the right side of his face swollen and bloodied and his left hand twisted and broken. A moment later Mithras' voice crackled through the vox.

---

Crisis heard Mithras' report crackle through his own hand-vox. Scanning the settlement he could see no further signs of conflict or infiltration; only the men and women who hadn't been inside the Cathedral tending to the flames, the injured and the dead. He was suddenly aware of the several sets of eyes behind him. Some of those who had not taken up arms hovered just beyond the doorway, expressions fearful.

"Is it over?" a woman asked him, her voice barely audible.

[Christian]

He turned, looking at them all. His flak armour had a hole punched into it in the chest, and scratches and black spots from where the fire had touched him when he had moved amongst the tents. His uniform under the metal of his armour was tattered at places, the material worn with age and use. With one motion he raised his hand to his helmet, unfastened the strap and took it off, beds of perspiration and sweat escaping and trailing down his face, drawing lines over the dust and dirt that coated it.

He drew a gloved thumb over the sign of the aquila on his helmet, the gold eagle gleaming despite the layer of dust and grime. His eyes fell once more on the crowd and a look of utter exhaustion fell upon him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. He was unsure how to handle this... and the growing ball of relief and terror coiling in the pit of his stomach made it so much harder to think.

But he had to say something.

"...Fools." he mumbled into the word, his throat having been too dry to pronounce the words correctly at first. He coughed and repeated what he'd said. "These men were fools. Fools because they believed they could catch us off our guard, to catch Stern Hope unknowing. They were fools to believe we would fall with the light of the Emperor at our side. Many are dead and wounded, but where the fallen of Stern Hope will join the Emperor at His side, there is nothing but damnation waiting for these heretics."

He coughed once more and drew his hand through the pepper and salt of his hair, "It is over."

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis heard the report. His absence of targets was a hint that the end was near, but with the exception of a second wave ready to attack--which those people don't seem to be smart enough to do--he was done. Reslinging his rifle that had faithfully taken so many lives today...there was not much more to do currently--at least before the woman asked him. Taking out his pad and writing tool, he wrote something to show her--hopefully, she'd understand. If not...well, tough to be her.

'The immediate conflict is over. However, the potential for another attack still persists...'

...it was only then that he reconsidered two things. First was that truck that Mik had gone and gotten wrecked. It was thankful that the workshops were also in the direction of the generators that he had saved. Hopefully one or more of them could repair the truck to a functioning state.

If not, the imbecile would CERTAINLY pay for any extra problems they would have returning.


But more pressing was his reflection on the fresh state of the battle. His thoughts normally didn't go out of control like that. He had been angry before. Many times, in fact. But it was always at someone else. The imbecile, often. Or Mithras and his combination of poor tactics and nigh-obsequious attitude toward authorities that are BELOW them as Acolytes. Or that witch, who had tried to shoot him with his own weapon. He still hadn't quite forgiven her for that.

But not at himself for a perceived inability to kill the enemy fast enough. Or these thoughts of power and the right to use it. He was aware of his own failings. Of the ins and outs of his preferred weaponry. Rifles take time to load. To aim properly.

Nevermind the "power" thing.

...something was off. And so he pondered, behind the gas mask, trying to figure out why those thoughts were inside his head...

[Jak Snide]

Xerxes simply grunted in response to Mithras' proclamation, nursing his injured arm for a moment before grabbing his own vox and speaking into it, casting a glance at Aristarchus. The old man was already making his way to the Cathedral, leaning on his staff for support yet moving with haste.

"Get yourselves to the Cathedral. We got us a live one and the Abbot wants to make an example of him."

---

Crisis was outside when others to make their way up the hill. A query from Xerxes snapped him out of his contemplative state and the five of them entered the Cathedral, Aristarchus still ahead of them, to find an ugly scene unfolding.

The prisoner had been thrown down in front of the alter, lying on his back and conscious one again, head rolling from side to side and mouth moving wordlessly. Brother Severus and Lamark both stood nearby, a wickedly sharp axe in the hand of the former. The Abbot was not speaking to the masses, though, instead casting his gaze beyond the prisoner. Esha Raine stood before him, cowl cast off to reveal a wrinkled face and windswept grey hair.

"Let us not give these heretics the satisfaction of disrupting our purpose. Let us illustrate the fate that awaits all of his kind and finish what we have begun. This changes nothing!" the abbot shouted. Kos'ke and what remained of his men, having entered just behind the acolytes, barged past and hurried to the woman's side.

"Honoured Abbot Skae," Raine replied, her voice clear and authoritative. "how can you not see? Look at this man, he has been maddened by some force. He is touched by unclean spirits, his mind clouded and whispers names that shall not be spoken even now. He knows not who we are, or even why he has fought. Something is very wrong here, how can you not see?"

Aristarchus pushed Raine aside, drew his pistol and shot the man through the head, the sharp crack silencing all within the Cathedral.

"Heretic!" he shouted, his voice stripped of fatigue and harsher than the acolytes had ever heard it. "We await a holy miracle here, woman. A miracle that has been revealed to me by the Emperor's grace, and all those who would stand against it are heretics! Do you stand against it?"

Kos'ke had his saber in hand a moment later, bristling with rage, only for Raine to fling out a hand. "Enough!" she cried. "There has been enough bloodshed this day. We will go and shall not return. I see now that I was wrong, I see now that you are damned and the crow sits whispering upon your shoulder. You have led these people to ruin. My people will have no part of it!"

Slowly and deliberately she raised her hands in a warding gesture before turning and storming down the aisle, past the acolytes and out the door. Kos'ke and his men lead the way, making sure none barred their passage. Aristarchus stood beside the corpse of the raider, trembling with rage and the Abbot seemed visibly appalled by this development, but he quickly gathered his wits and began a sermon to the crowd.

"A single candle illuminates a void, though it may take an eon before its light can be seen from afar. Let this hall be no more candle, but a mighty sun to shine forth into the outer darkness, even in this time of trial we must have faith!"

---

The people filed out of the Cathedral soon afterwards, Aristarchus lost in the crowd, to piece together what remained of their homes and bury the dead. The acolytes were left standing just outside the double doors to the Cathedral. In the distance they could see four figures mounted on dustdogs galloping away from Stern Hope.

"What the fuck was that all about?" muttered Xerxes.

[Capntastic]

"No clue, pal. I'm gonna get a drink, clean myself off, and then take a gander at that thing what the heretics used to crash the gate."

And thus he made to stomp towards the Clotta.

[Kelne]

Cryvus knelt down beside the raider and administered a light slap to the face, "Wake up," he said firmly, "We need to talk, you and I."

[Jak Snide]

(Pardon me, I completely forgot that Cryvus had a prisoner. This takes place before the little incident at the Cathedral.)

The man shuddered as the slap connected, even the unswollen side of his face tender enough to to amplify pain. He looked at Cryvus through one eye, the other one a milky white. Xerxes' message came through the vox just as he felt that he had the raider's attention.

(Cryvus can either heed the summons and indispose the prisoner in some way, in which case he'll bear witness to the incident up on the hill, or he can ignore it and continue with his plan of action.)

[Christian]

Mithras shot Xerxes a glance as he spoke into the vox. Example?

His face creased into a look of bitter realization; they wouldn't keep any prisoners...

Weariness caught him, and he found himself too slow to react to what happened in the cathedral, and he wasn't sure what good he could have done. The words of the woman... ravens...

As they passed through the doors of the cathedrals, he looked towards the leaving dustdogs and found himself in a battle in his mind. The words of the woman... the birds he'd seen... the signs...

"I need to speak with that woman." he muttered as Xerxes and Mikolas had spoken, "she knows more about this than I find comfortable." he glanced at the others, "There are things about this place that we have not been told."

[Kelne]

"Better," Cryvus said, seeing the eyes focus on him, "Now, you are going to tell me why you are here."

[Jak Snide]

The man's good eye swivelled around in it's socket, taking in his surroundings.

"This isn't-" he croaked weakly, his throat dry, "where am-, who are-, what am-, who am I?" he managed to say at last, the uninjured part of his face suddenly expressing confusion and fear.

[Kelne]

Cryvus sighed the deep, disappointed sigh of someone who had really hoped for better.

"The Abyss has stared into you, citizen," he said, staring deep into the frightened man's eyes, "It has whispered to that dark part of your soul that seeks to cast down your neighbour, to revel in his misery and profit thereby. The Emperor knows what you have done, here among His children," he continued, with a slight emphasis upon that last word, "Yet He has spared you, that you might tell me everything. In His name, you will not turn away from your memories."

[Jak Snide]

The man's good eye widened as Cryvus spoke, filled with a fear only felt when one's soul is imperilled. By the time he finished the raider was outright terrified, sputtering his reply in a broken voice.

"I don't know, I-I think it was Seth-was it Seth?-The Voicer sent us-a strange voice, filled with-filled with the Emperor's wrath, telling us that the heretics planned to-planned to s-planned to-summon-"

The man convulsed, blood gurgling from a corner of his mouth, both eyes swivelling wildly in their sockets as they swelled up, turned red and burst, spattering the front of Cryvus' clothes with blood. He wasn't moving any more.

He was vaguely aware of some commotion atop the hill where the Cathedral stood, but he couldn't take his eyes off the corpse before him. Its ruptured eyes were still bleeding, the blood trickling down the side of the dead man's face like tears. His final expression had been one of excruciating pain and terror, one which was now frozen onto his face.

(And that brings Cryvus in line chronologically with the end of Plainsong Ceremony.)

[NamagomiMk0]

Crisis' gloved palm went straight to his masked face when he heard Mik talk about getting a drink. That imbecile was going to go so far as start drinking on duty?! After he ruined the truck, at that...

...that reminded him. On top of the speech and statements that burned through his mind. It felt that he may've needed some more time to clarify the issue, but there may be more to it than it seemed...much more.

...maddened by some force. Touched by unclean spirits...


...it couldn't be. Yet the evidence grows stronger.

Taking out his ever-so-trusty writing tools, he scribbled furiously at the paper, before walking off to search for Aristarchus amidst the crowds...

[Jak Snide]

Xerxes watched Mikolas and Crisis peeled away, the latter searching for their superior and the other simply after a good drink.

"Shit, boy, that goes without saying." he muttered in response to Mithras, keeping his voice low as the crowd moving out of the Cathedral began to thin. "We don't even know who the hell those guys were. Heard them yelling like they were Frateris Militia." His expression changed as he realised something. "Say, where's Cryvus at?" He was on the vox a moment latter, tapping it a few times and mumbling a prayer to the machine spirit before speaking. "Cryvus, old man, report in."

---

Xerxes voice crackled through Cryvus' vox, snapping his attention away from the corpse before him. The children, woman and her father were gone now, though he did not know where. The fires were either burning themselves out or being extinguished by the townsfolk and the air was filled with the sounds of mourning and benedictions for the deceased.

---

Mikolas was not the only one who'd headed straight for the Crying Clotta. A few of the townsfolk were there as well, though conversation was sparse and conducted in hushed voices. He saw a few surviving members of the militia there, hunched over drinks and talking about the West gate. Apparently the watch detail there had been found dead; their throats slit before they could raise an alarm. He was served a weighty measure of amasec without even asking for one, nor was there a question of charge. The barkeep simply nodded his head respectfully at the fighting man and went back to cleaning the same glass he had been when Mik had walked in.

---

Crisis sighted Aristarchus through the crowds, the seer heading back to the Crying Clotta. People were giving him a wide berth and his progress was swift. By the time the marksman reached the inn himself Aristarchus had disappeared, presumably upstairs. The only ones downstairs were the owner, a few staff, some daunted looking townsfolk and Mikolas, the latter being served a heavy measure of amasec.

[Kelne]

With a final shiver, Cryvus turned his attention away from the corpse. The man had given what information he could, and perhaps that would count for something when his soul went to its judgement. Unfortunately, Cryvus suspected that his soul had already been claimed by something old and hungry.

Turning his steps towards the cathedral, he triggered his vox, "Here. We need to talk. All of us."

[Christian]

Mithras shook his head as Mikolas and Crisis disappeared; the giant was getting a drink... and considering his wounds, that wasn't such a bad idea. Where Crisis had gone... he had no idea.

He gave Xerxes a small nod and listened to the transmission from the older man. He was half a mind to cast out his own suspicions, hoping that he would not be alone in his recently acquired fears... but not over the vox.

"We are at the cathedral..." he muttered into his own vox, gloved hand flipping the transmission switch as his mind almost unconsciously recited the minor chant of communication.

[Jak Snide]

Xerxes spotted Cryvus and descended the hill towards him, moving off to the side and waiting for Mithras to follow before speaking.

"Mikolas done gone to wet his throat, dunno about Crisis. Shit, never know what that one's up to most of the time. You missed one hell of an incident up at the Cathedral. Where were you at?"

(If Mikolas or Crisis had their hand voxes activated they would have heard Xerxes and Cryvus talking through them.)

[Capntastic]

Mikolas, heard his vox crackle and repeat the Xerxes' message.

Mentally skimming the proper incantation, and jamming his thumb on the proper rune, Mik replied.

"Yeah, I'm at the Clotta."

There was an abrupt sound of Mik downing his drink, and then the glass being plonked onto the counter.

"Now, I'm gonna make sure my wounds is all neatened up."

He removed his thumb from the rune.

[Jak Snide]

Mithras and Cryvus saw the annoyance flicker across Xerxes' face as he pressed the rune on his own device again.

"That can wait, boy. Get yourself to the base of the hill, asap. Crisis, if you're hearing this...I dunno, tap twice or something and get yourself over here."