[Suzerain of Sheol]

The door to the Ecumenical Office of the barracks of Holy Corinth is thrown open by Joseph Kytos, lieutenant of the city's militia. Inside, Saint Acacias glides out from his desk to meet him.

They speak in hushed tones, the lieutenant harried and concerned; the Saint a picture of serenity and forbearance.

Eventually, Acacias nods and steps toward the door, saying, "Very well. I'll take twenty-five men with me." Looking back at the lieutenant he adds, "It was good of you to come to me. Your faith is well-placed."

[Sage]

Jeanne noted that Feenai sat them far from the door, as if a protection measure, but didn't complain. She would have done the same thing, especially due to the large number of people in the building.

"Right now, for a decent meal," she stated. "I have been traveling for a while and needed to relax." There was a menu on the wall next to their table and she studied it before looking around for a waitress. She found one soon and waved her over. "Beef stew, please," Jeanne told her before glancing at Feenai, assuming that she, too, would like to order something.

From outside came the sounds of gunshots and yelling. Automatically Jeanne's hand went for her knife, but once she realized that she was in no immediate danger, she pulled back. "I assume that fights are common in this city." Still, she was on edge.

[Funkduder]

Everything moved so fast. He didn't even have time to point his weapon at the man he just tackled when a foot slammed to the side of his head. Although disoriented, he could see his former employer being stolen away by the gun-handed man. "That jerk off," he thought as he tried to get a hold of his surroundings. A hand extended towards him as well as a voice from the man whom he saw as dangerous...but it was a gesture of kindness, or so he thought, so he took hold of the hand as he tried to recompose himself.
"I...I'm fine; just a little disoriented," Michael said to the older man. People were starting to flood in, and the crowd wasn't necessarily comforting to Michael due to the gun shots. Getting to his feet, he beckoned the man towards the street, hoping to walk with him into the tavern he was in before.
"We should get to somewhere more suitable before getting to anymore conversation. My name is Michael."

[CupcakeDolly]

Rue was more than a little annoyed. She had underestimated the power that one tiny rumor could hold, and even more so she had underestimated the people who might answer such a call. Now she was being strung along with hardly enough time to get a word in edgewise. Regardless of that, however, it seemed her new bodyguard was serving her well. Most initial doubts she had about the man flew from her mind the moment he acted as a human shield.

"This way!" She took hold of the Lev's wrist and began running on her own, attempting to take back control of the situation. They needed someplace to hide, but she hadn't been in the city long enough to have found any such place. Oh, and they might need someone to stop the man from bleeding all over her, as well.

With one hand still holding Lev, Rue checked the interface on her wrist and simultaneously reached out with her mind. There was a strong presence nearby. She scanned through thoughts, feeling somewhat dizzy as she did. Yes, that one would do.

Moments later she burst through the door of a tavern, with the bleeding Lev still in tow. She looked over the room as heads turned toward them, picking out her target from the crowd. She faltered for a second - the person looked male, but she could tell from the mental patterns that it was female. That hardly mattered anyway.

"You!" She pointed at the girl. "This man needs medical attention! I will pay you, just do it. Now!"

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Shealtiel follows along with Micahel, relieved that he won't have to expend any energy healing him. He isn't getting any younger, and he feels the toll of his magicks a lot more now, than he used to.

Glancing at his MID, he is alarmed to see that the woman's presence is right ahead in the tavern. Before he can say anything to Michael, though, they're already inside.

[Espy]

A strong dark purple aura and a strong bright red one...These should be the ones he'd met earlier. Grabbing the edge of one tile and swinging onto yet another roof, Dante ran, wolf-like, towards his target. The people around her, at least the one with the purple glow, were strong, but all he needed was a single well-placed bullet, else a quick slash to an artery...Preoccupied, he nearly missed the edge of the tavern roof, catching his foot on a flagpole just in time.

Pushing himself onto the slanted surface, Dante took several deep breaths; the adrenaline rush was taking its toll. He managed to retrieve a single succor capsule, swallowed, and sat back, trying to figure out the proceedings in the tavern based on aura movement alone.

After half a minute, he decided it was relatively safe, felt around in his pouch for a cigarette, and lit it.

[Funkduder]

Leading the old man inside, Michael bumped into the one person he was hoping to find...later....His rival, the stake-handed gun man, was bleeding heavily on the table as he was receiving medical assistance, but that didn't matter as much as the inevitable situation that was about to occur unless he did something. Michael went to the red hooded girl and spoke softly enough as to not create more chaos where it is not needed.
"A lot of good men will die if something breaks out now. Head to the back. We need to talk."
Michael activated his psychic block and extended as far as he could in the bounds of the tavern, with the exception of the healer and the patient he was treating.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Shealtiel follows a few steps behind Michael, trying to get a sense of their surroundings -- both what is going on inside the tavern, and any further disturbances that might come from outside. After all, the blind man doesn't seem like the sort who'd be willing to talk things out. Shealtiel is hoping for more success with the others, especially considering that one is wounded.

As Michael whispers to the psychic woman, Shealtiel adds, "Do as he says," gesturing with his cane.

[Serra Britt]

Feenai was just about ready to order when the woman in the red cloak thrust a bleeding man practically onto Jeanne's lap. She hadn't even finished processing that when more people came into the tavern, a very old looking man and a a grey haired man that didn't look nearly as old as his hair suggested. She felt some severe pressure on her mental shields, despite her practice. At least two of the newcomers were psychics, but she couldn't tell more than that without dropping her own shields and she didn't dare do that with all the commotion. Already the pain from the bleeding man was leaking into her mind, and it felt far more horrible than it looked.

Putting as much as she could into keeping the shields up, Feenai stood and moved over to Jeanne. "John, just tell me what you need and I'll get it for you."

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Looking on, Shealtiel notes to the young woman, "your friend is a theurge. Assuming she can get the bullets out without damaging him further, she should be able to close his wounds." He doesn't feel the need to add that he could do so himself, as it would require him taking a great deal of the man's suffering into himself.

[Sage]

Jeanne was surprised; she hadn't expected to have a bleeding man sprung on her. She was thankful that he seemed to be breathing well, though, and opened his jacket to reveal two entry wounds. The poor waitress was even more upset, and as Lev was put on the table, she ran off. Not being a psychic, she didn't notice the block, but a quick check on her visor told her that not only was the newcomer a powerful one, so were several others who entered a minute later.

She didn't need to be offered money to heal the man. Thankfully, her reserves of theurgical energy had not been used in some time, so she had no need of creating more on the fly. Closing her eyes and placing her palms over the twin entry wounds, she concentrated and Lev's pain dulled. The wounds began to glow a pale yellow, and she could see the location of one bullet and the exit wound of the other. The bullet was deep, though; its removal would be more damaging than letting it be. After all, her patient had a stake nailed to his right hand, so it wasn't as if he were a picture of health to begin with.

Thankfully, none of the vital organs were pierced, although there seemed to be significant internal bleeding. She pushed energy into his body and closed the heaviest-bleeding veins and arteries.

Jeanne glanced back as the old man, who must have arrived when she was concentrating. She was slightly disturbed by the fact that her skills were so easily discovered. It wasn't by accident that the young woman had come to her instead of a hospital.

"Thank you, Feenai. Just something to clean the blood off of his front," she said, trying to make it not sound like an order. Then, taking a look at the people around her - they seemed to be embroiled in their own conflict - she returned to Lev.

[CupcakeDolly]

Rue glared at both men as they spoke to her, feeling fury rise inside of her at being ordered around. She didn't bother to read their intentions - it was the blind assassin that she was most concerned with, and if these two men were here, then he wouldn't be far behind.

"I do not have time for this," she said, crossing her arms stubbornly. "I am going to have him fixed and then I am leaving. You may say what you will to me in the meantime." Rue's words sounded harsher than she'd intended. Her head throbbed, and her stomach growled. She was accustomed to fasting and eating little, but it had been a while since her last meal and she had expended much of her energy in scoping out her potential enemies. Caution had its downsides at times, it seemed.

[Espy]

Exhaling smoke, Dante noticed a weaker aura travel farther into the tavern with the purple and red ones. Closer to the door, there seemed to be a small transfer of energy between two others and what seemed like the man with a stake through his hand.

He stood and took a few steps across the roof, sitting back down directly overhead of the red psychic.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Shealtiel is about to respond to the woman's belligerent remarks, but he stops as he notices her, Michael, and the other young lady suddenly wince. The three psychics in the room. That can mean only one thing: a reciprocity generator active nearby.

Damn it, they're here already, he fumes inwardly, and even as he does so, blinding light fills the tavern as Saint Acacias steps in, revealing himself in all his theuric splendor.

In a powerful, harmonious voice, he Commands them all to "Stand down." Shealtiel buckles beneath the magickal compulsion, but manages to withstand it for the moment, though he can feel his bones straining with the effort. His breath begins to wheeze from him.

Behind Acacias, a number of armored soldiers file into the tavern, bearing heavy assault rifles, all pointed at the group in the back corner. Others usher the civilians who haven't fled out of the tavern.

[Serra Britt]

The sudden pain seared Feenai, granting her a pain she had never felt before. A.. reciproty generator? At least the pain was only momentary, and was fading quickly. She almost didn't notice when the Saint came in and issued his Command, as she was rushing to get a wet towel for Jeanne. Returning to Jeanne, she handed her the towel, and finally looked up at the commotion. Panic started to fill her, she had never before seen a soldier before, let alone so many heavily armed ones.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the panic down as best she could. She carefully addressed the soldiers, "Please.. if only for a moment. Please let my friend at least stabilize this man before he dies..."

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Acacias inclines his head slightly, giving his assent. He is not in the habit of causing needless death. Though he could have easily restored the man, he does not want to drop his guard, especially with that Servant of Sheol slamming his will against the Command.