Under a Steel Shadow

You step inside Wigsby's and witness its unorganized interior design. One may think that this establishment would have lost a lot less of its former dignity had it been a homeless shelter instead. At least that way, it explains the drunkards that now lie on the floor and the raunchy scent of month old garbage that perpetrates the area.

You survey the bar and notice a familiar figure. A tall man with pale and near-leathery skin topped off with disheveled hair that covers his weary eyes. His hunched posture keeps himself unnoticeably integrated with the pack of mangy mutts here that frequent this bar as customers.

You stand still at the sight of Farkus Mckaye. Frozen with indecision that all your hard work for may all go down the drain if you act ostentatiously. You realize how salient you are just standing there that Farkus noticed you in the sea of moving patrons. You just want to slap yourself silly for acting like such an amateur at such a crucial time as this. The opportunity may never knock on your door again.

Farkus slowly rises from his seat with some difficulty due to the clothes he's wearing which may seem like dusty rags on the outside but underneath, reveals a fully armored body suit. He gains speed in his attempt to escape colliding with the boozehounds that block his way to the back door.

You are still able to catch up to him under these circumstances but time is running out. What are you to do?