[ There's definite lack of refinement to Avenger's casual speech patterns; crude and blunt, a little uncomfortable to deal with in conversation with his predisposition to ignore what other people thought about him for it. He talks like somebody who has never had a lick of formal education or ceremony in his life. ]

For what?

[ He asks, fairly certain he could take a guess at what Kirei, missing years and in a post-apocalypic place like the Tower, would pray to god for. The man wasn't anywhere near as predictable as the hero of justice, but he wasn't on the difficult end of that scale of predictability either. ]

This? [ He holds up the red cloth. ]

Ah, I'd have thought you would recognize it right away, given your line of business. It's one of your Church's Holy Shrouds. [ A pause. ] Seems like all the holiness has gone outta' it however.