Originally Posted by
Myrdin
In a darkened room, with just few shimmering lights, a man wearing disctinct leather clothes slowly moves away from the window. First daylight has yet to shine, but he is already fully awake, his actions filled with purpose. Reaching towards the thick wooden table he dons a wide elongated top hat hat with ornamented decorations. One that only the members of the certain part of the Church are seen to wear. Men and women who are known to seek out evil at its root and cleanse it with fire and steel. Men and Women of grim disposition, whose hearts hardened by sadness, pain,rejection... and horrible gacha pulls. In their darkest moment they have found their strength and joined the ranks of the few. They are the hidden blade that brings justice into this unjust world where foul magic and heresy is present at every step, and corruption seeps from every crevice. They are.... The Witch Hunters.
Swiftly counting his inventory, he ensures both flintlock pistols are loaded. His rapier sharpened, vials filled with holy water, silver chain coiled around his waist, and pointed wooden stakes tucked on the inner side of his black coat. Heavy leather encased book binded in iron is hanging from his waist, filled to the brim with holy texts to ward of and punish evil. A litany of Fury, the Hammer of just, the flame of the Pious. He nods in satisfaction. Everything is ready.
With a grunt he bends and picks up several pieces of parchement on which, information for his eyes only written in black ink can be seen. As if to reconfirm his mission he gives one more read through the scattered lines.
The writting is hard to decipher for those un-initiated however from what you can see several names appear to be written there:
"Cult leader of Devils Pull - The Witchlord Moarsi , exact caution. High ranked colytes: Wutan the Betrayer and Noheart the Deceiver." The list goes on a bit and fnishes with simple instructions: Smite the heretics with holy might ! May they find redemption in the heat of the Clensing flame. All wicked shall yet fear the unrelenting fury of our divine charge".
Croocked smile appears on the grim face of the man, inner flame of vengance and righteousness burning in his eyes and a coarse voice of low tone resounds the room:
"Time to hunt me some heretics !"
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