There was never any need to be subtle about this. The Black Flame commander had more than did her fair share of homework about this crude, little scummy area of town. There was little to no need to hide herself even when she stalked through the grime ridden streets, towards her target. A target that seemed more out of place than it ought to had been, considering the its rundown state of affairs. Any sane person would deem the failing architecture creepy. The horrendously scarred woman in the Vindicator, deemed it fetching, and endearing. There was little to no need for an open assault, after all, from what the data says, there was only ever one person living here at the church. A person who was recorded to be old, and seemingly blind. Although the total extent of the blindness, remained much of an unknown factor.
A softly whispered hiss in its ear by an invisible mouth gives a reminder to keep to the plan. The Vindicator marks the time, understanding that by now Nails, Ebon, and JaX would have made it to the kennels. No doubt facing off against the Brood Mother before some form of cavalry arrives. Just how is it that Cain is able to calculate this much? It borders on precognition.
As the Vindicator strode towards the church doors of Saint Agnus, the suit raised its black arms up to withdraw two shimmering blades of crystalline constructs, somewhat thin and long, much akin to a katana. Then, as she approached the church door, the assassin lifted her right boot, and simply kicked out at the old church door with enough ferocity to knock it down. And knock it down she did. Once the door had fell inwards, having been ripped from the foundations of the wall, it struck the ground with an almighty clap, spraying dust up to momentarily cloud the shadowy figure that now perched itself atop of the fallen entrance, the glowing swords humming, as if vibrating the molecules around the blades.
?Thhhhhhheeeeeeee geeeeeeeem, nooooowww. Or diiiiiiiiiiiie?? Came the serpentine wheeze of the Vindicator, as it stepped through the cloud of dust billowing out into the holy place.
"What gem?" Sister Maharette cries out in shock at the sudden commotion. Standing in the middle of the aisle with a broom in her hands, she looks to the floor with milky white eyes. "I'm afraid there's been a mistake, anything of value in this holy place left its walls long ago."
Her head slowly lifts to look in the direction of this intruder, chin jutting out defiantly. Despite her words, Maharette's breath quickens perhaps from fear and she tightens her grip on the broom. She knew this day would come. Someone always came for it.
It would seem, the information, was correct. Blind as a bat. Intimidation would not work quite so well, considering there was a distinct lack of visual aid in regards to instilling fear. And Vindicator was anything but an interrogator. ?Youuuu haaave, twwwwwo, choicccessses. You eeeither sshshhhow meee, wheeere the gem isss, or, I tarreeee down thissss buuuuilding with youuu in, iiiiiiit.? Hallow footsteps took her towards the broom wielding woman, her swords purposefully pointed towards the floor, the tips just barely scratching the surface of the old masonry. She stopped within arm?s reach of the woman, and simply stared the purple visor in her direction.
"Then, I fear you will have to tear the building down for what you seek cannot be taken by force." She says with a tinge of sadness in her voice.
The Vindicator tilted its head, and lifted a blade to place the sharp humming edge underneath the woman's chin, the point pressing harmlessly in her flesh where the pulse was strongest. For the moment, that is. "Sssss, youuuu dooo knoooow whhaat I waaaant? Hmmmmm?"
"You are not the first to come seeking the gem. They each came as you, kicking in the door, threatening violence and making the exact same statements as yourself. Like broken records." Maharette's voice grows in confidence, even as she feels the blades humming edge against her chin, the warmth slowly burning at her flesh. "What makes you th-"
The Vindicator heard enough and swung its arm once, severing the nun's head from her shoulders. The suit's purple visor swivels to look at the altar at the end of the pews, scanning not for an image but the energy signature Cain told it to watch for. The entire room saturated with it. "Thhhhhhhhere."
Black boots move forward to the wax idol hanging upon a cross at the back of the prayer altar. The strongest layer of swirling energy coming from within the statue' chest. A hollowed out cavity that, truly, many would have overlooked. That many were not the Vindicator, nor did they have its talents. It's black fist palls up and punches through the idol's midsection, reaching up to close fingers over the gem, it fit within the palm of her hand, perhaps an inch long and oval.
Objective accomplished the Vindicator turns on a black heel and strides out of St. Agnus, stopping only long enough to turn around at the body of Sister Maharette. There is one last order to follow before returning the gem to Cain. One boot planted, the other kicks the head of Maharette into the opened cavity on the idol at the back of the room.
Too easy.
(big thanks to Vindicator's player for doing this scene!)
A softly whispered hiss in its ear by an invisible mouth gives a reminder to keep to the plan. The Vindicator marks the time, understanding that by now Nails, Ebon, and JaX would have made it to the kennels. No doubt facing off against the Brood Mother before some form of cavalry arrives. Just how is it that Cain is able to calculate this much? It borders on precognition.
As the Vindicator strode towards the church doors of Saint Agnus, the suit raised its black arms up to withdraw two shimmering blades of crystalline constructs, somewhat thin and long, much akin to a katana. Then, as she approached the church door, the assassin lifted her right boot, and simply kicked out at the old church door with enough ferocity to knock it down. And knock it down she did. Once the door had fell inwards, having been ripped from the foundations of the wall, it struck the ground with an almighty clap, spraying dust up to momentarily cloud the shadowy figure that now perched itself atop of the fallen entrance, the glowing swords humming, as if vibrating the molecules around the blades.
?Thhhhhhheeeeeeee geeeeeeeem, nooooowww. Or diiiiiiiiiiiie?? Came the serpentine wheeze of the Vindicator, as it stepped through the cloud of dust billowing out into the holy place.
"What gem?" Sister Maharette cries out in shock at the sudden commotion. Standing in the middle of the aisle with a broom in her hands, she looks to the floor with milky white eyes. "I'm afraid there's been a mistake, anything of value in this holy place left its walls long ago."
Her head slowly lifts to look in the direction of this intruder, chin jutting out defiantly. Despite her words, Maharette's breath quickens perhaps from fear and she tightens her grip on the broom. She knew this day would come. Someone always came for it.
It would seem, the information, was correct. Blind as a bat. Intimidation would not work quite so well, considering there was a distinct lack of visual aid in regards to instilling fear. And Vindicator was anything but an interrogator. ?Youuuu haaave, twwwwwo, choicccessses. You eeeither sshshhhow meee, wheeere the gem isss, or, I tarreeee down thissss buuuuilding with youuu in, iiiiiiit.? Hallow footsteps took her towards the broom wielding woman, her swords purposefully pointed towards the floor, the tips just barely scratching the surface of the old masonry. She stopped within arm?s reach of the woman, and simply stared the purple visor in her direction.
"Then, I fear you will have to tear the building down for what you seek cannot be taken by force." She says with a tinge of sadness in her voice.
The Vindicator tilted its head, and lifted a blade to place the sharp humming edge underneath the woman's chin, the point pressing harmlessly in her flesh where the pulse was strongest. For the moment, that is. "Sssss, youuuu dooo knoooow whhaat I waaaant? Hmmmmm?"
"You are not the first to come seeking the gem. They each came as you, kicking in the door, threatening violence and making the exact same statements as yourself. Like broken records." Maharette's voice grows in confidence, even as she feels the blades humming edge against her chin, the warmth slowly burning at her flesh. "What makes you th-"
The Vindicator heard enough and swung its arm once, severing the nun's head from her shoulders. The suit's purple visor swivels to look at the altar at the end of the pews, scanning not for an image but the energy signature Cain told it to watch for. The entire room saturated with it. "Thhhhhhhhere."
Black boots move forward to the wax idol hanging upon a cross at the back of the prayer altar. The strongest layer of swirling energy coming from within the statue' chest. A hollowed out cavity that, truly, many would have overlooked. That many were not the Vindicator, nor did they have its talents. It's black fist palls up and punches through the idol's midsection, reaching up to close fingers over the gem, it fit within the palm of her hand, perhaps an inch long and oval.
Objective accomplished the Vindicator turns on a black heel and strides out of St. Agnus, stopping only long enough to turn around at the body of Sister Maharette. There is one last order to follow before returning the gem to Cain. One boot planted, the other kicks the head of Maharette into the opened cavity on the idol at the back of the room.
Too easy.
(big thanks to Vindicator's player for doing this scene!)