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[fathers_cleric]

The nether.

Quiet. Dangerous.

The shadow moving through it in front of a long line of soldiers blends in perfectly.

[Here sir?]

John Preston nods before stepping in front of a doorway and glancing backwards to Partridge.

Nothing. No fear, no emotion-

The door is brought down with a swift kick, and Preston moves foward, guns in hand-ready

Comments

[deals_in_terror]

Nearby, someone is laughing.

[fathers_cleric]

Preston doesn't pick up on it, but he does continue moving his gun in a constant sweep.

[deals_in_terror]

"Hey," he says more loudly, "there's nobody here to shoot but the boogie man."

[fathers_cleric]

Preston's guns go up, one after the other.

"...Halt. Identify yourself."

[elder_fray]

And Erin's patrolling.

Man inside wall with ... wow. Guns.

She pulls hers, quickly, cop's precision, and holds it out.

"Put the guns down, fella."

[fathers_cleric]

Preston looks up sharply, weapons raised in her direction.

A cleric is not thrown off. Ever.

"...Give me reason to comply." Clearly she must be from the resistence. not recognizing a cleric.

[elder_fray]

"Because you're not where you think you are, sir, and I'm the rutting officer here. Don't believe me, look up."

Sure, the skies in Haddyn are bad.

Even they aren't this bad.

[fathers_cleric]

Preston peers upward, noting the sky.

"...Fallout." He knows enough about that, " There's no reason to assume this isn't some unprotected corner of the Nether."

Preston's eyes go hard, "...And I'll need to see identification if you're with a sweeper unit."