[Suzerain of Sheol]

Shealtiel checks his MID once more while he walks, only to discover that the powerful signature is not only nearby, but has been joined by second, though the first dwarfs it. Only a few streets away, he quickens his pace, subconsciously letting a trickle of Sheol's power seep into his muscles and lungs, so that he will not get winded from the exertion.

Rounding a corner he comes to the end of an alley where three people are gathered -- no, make that four; the blind man from earlier is on one of the rooftops -- in what looks to be something of a standoff. Drawing himself up, approaches from behind the woman in the crimson cloak.

As she jerks her head around to see who else has disturbed their meeting, he raises his walking-stick, pointing to her.

"You... you are from Babylon." He feels her psychosis thunder into his mind, but it is a trivial thing to fill it with enough memories of horror to drown out his own paltry personal narrative.

"Oh, do not look at me like that, like I've somehow bested you. It doesn't take psychosis to notice the Whore's mark on you."

Lowering the walking stick, with a shrug he reaches under his left sleeve and casually presses the button on his MID to create a field of psychic static -- though with this one, she'll likely be able to overcome its effects, at least to a degree.

Stepping forward again, he says "Now, then. All of you, lower your weapons. As pathetic as they appear to be, the police forces of this city could still deal with the likes of you. And, you!" he called up to the blind man "come down from there!"

He leans against one of the buildings, never taking his eyes from the woman. "Now, then, my dear, shall we talk about the man you killed this morning?"