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Varis decided that he'd had enough of waiting for the fight to conclude, Varis began to lead the boy out, "Come on, it wouldn't be right for them all to die protecting you and us to survive." He held on to the boy, but not as a shield, and kept the other hand on his pistol. A quick assessment let to him noticing the enemy in the car. He raised his pistol and fired.
The shot went laughably wide.
I'm still here, though as a short range fighter in a long range gunfight, there is little I can do beyond what I have.
At the sound of gunfire without an apparent source, Varis grabbed Titus by the arm and pulled him toward one of the buildings nearby. "The others can handle this, and I will keep you safe!" He announced. He found an open building for the two of them and ducked inside, with Titus in tow.
"Someone must always die," Varis said simply. He approached Orestes, and knelt down near him, praying over him for a moment. Finally, he kissed the man's forehead, adding "Walk with the Emperor's grace in eternity." When he was done, he got to his feet and brought the axe down on the man's neck, severing it. He looked back at the others, wondering if they would dare to accuse him. He offered a defense anyway. "We haven't the time and I haven't the skill to treat him. And do you believe his fellows would stay their hand if they knew we hadn't killed this one? We should move now."
Watching the tech priest puzzle over the dead man's belongings for a little too long, Varis felt the need to interject. "We left survivors who have scampered off to tell their friends. Soon these streets will be flooded with gangers out for our blood. In this situation, haste would not be unwise." Noticing that Wraxus was wounded, Varis stowed his axe and approached. "I have no training in the healing arts, but if you can walk, I can help you." He said, offering his shoulder for support.
"Indeed," Varis said, looking at Jene for a moment before returning his gaze to Titus. "Young Titus has shown wisdom enough to comply. Is the fight over?" If the fight is over: Varis entrusted Titus to Jene's care, claiming he needed to minister to the dying. First he approached Orestes, quickly separating the man from his weapons. Then he knelt next to the man, offering the High Gothic prayers that he'd been taught to memorize for just this purpose. Finally, he said "May you find peace in what the God Emperor has for you." He finished the prayer by bringing his axe down on the man's neck. He repeated this process for the others as well.
Varis listened intently to Titus, and then replied by drawing his axe and pointing it in his direction. "The Emperor of Man places trials such as these in the path of the righteous to test their worth. If you would just consider this one of them, and wait a moment, it will be over soon."
It had always been Varis's intention to grab the man and run, so he had little idea what Phedra and Wraxus were plotting when he approached Titus, and with a sweeping gesture, offered to lead him away. "If you would just walk with me a short way, perhaps I can help you with your grief as we get this matter sorted out."
Varis stepped forward, his axe sheathed at his side. "I suppose we have come upon my reason for being involved in this endeavor. It would seem as though our employers expected hesitation on your part, and decided that having a cleric of the God Emperor would serve as reassurance. I agreed for the chance to minister to the downtrodden."
"Outside," Varis announced. "We needn't trouble these wretches more than necessary. Besides, getting caught indoors is the last thing we want." As he spoke, Varis followed Wraxus's advice, retrieving his weapons from the locker and heading outside to wait for the exchange.
Varis looked from one to the other, not sure what exactly they were discussing, but wondering if they were planning as well as they thought. "And when we get him then what? We don't know where we are headed." He looked at Jene as though she had missed a lesson from a sermon. "The Emperor protects his own, but he will not save the foolish. Scouting the immediate area is far less important than knowing several routes off of this level, and ideally out of the skull masters' territory. We have to assume that we will not be allowed to leave without a fight, and to run blindly is to tempt fate."
"Time conspires against us, the only possible answer is, as much as it takes." He changed his focus, addressing Jene specifically. "I am quickly turning to your reasoning. I had intended to learn a little about this place and it's people before deciding how to proceed, but these tight lipped curs seem to have decided for us." Varis snarled as he spoke of the other bar patrons.
Having paid for the lockers, though unsure as to whether he would use them, Varis wandered the bar, questioning its patrons about various things related to the local gangs and authorities.
Varis spoke to Phedra before following the others, "That these people deserve execution for their crimes is not in question. However, I am not yet sure that painting the streets with their blood is the best way they might earn atonement. I think we should play along for the moment and let the emperor's grace guide us." He followed the others into the bar in time to hear the cost of the lockers. He set five thrones on the counter and smiled. "There may be more if you can tell us how we might impress the skull master."
Varis clearly did not appreciate the thought of going unarmed. "I am unconcerned with my own safety, I know how to tend to that, I am more concerned about the weapons I am to surrender, what assurance do I have that I will see them returned?" He wondered if he should adopt some form of persona to attempt to blend in. So far he had heard a shocking absence of references to the Holy Emperor. Was this place the steaming pile of fetid heresy that was implied by that? He supposed time would tell, but he watched carefully.
"They chose for me the name Octus Rolf, but I'll die by the name Varis Sieran, just like I was born. I am a confessor, teacher, and giver of last rights in service of the God Emperor. People tell me things that they would otherwise keep to themselves, and I learned to fight on a world where weapons more advanced than swords and bows were rare."
Varis began to equip himself, first the helmet and flak jacket. Above that he donned his Ecclesiarchy robes, pulling the hood over his head to hide his armor. The weapons, or at least, the axe would be more problematic. He strapped the shield to his arm, and rigged the holster for the hand cannon there, to provide easy access. He did not expect a cleric to be questioned much about, so he felt confident that the shield would not cause concern. He was surprised that the bag did not contain a hymnal, or even a book of the Emperor's teachings. Did this inquisitor not know of his calling? He supposed he could do well enough from memory, but still. . . Varis left the axe in the backpack and looked over the false identification he'd been provided with. "I suppose introductions are in order," He mumbled, mostly to himself, as he looked at it.
Varis listened carefully to his instructions, certain of his duty at the word 'acolyte'. After determining that he was sitting in the dark, he closed his eyes again until the light returned, silently offering prayer's to the Emperor toward the completion of this task. The voice told him that his old life was dead, but he knew better. A false, arranged death would not absolve his sins, they were still his to atone. When the shackles released, Varis stood and grabbed the bag. He began looking through it, wondering what had been provided for him. Once he was satisfied with what was inside, he looked at the others and said, "We have a worthy task and little time, best to set ourselves to it."
I suppose that means me. Allow me to start off by saying: "May our feet be anointed with the blood of the Emperor's foes!" |
