The High Priest

The High Priest was not known as a man of action, and that was by design. A priest should be slow moving, approachable and above all else, unthreatening. It had taken him years to learn the discipline to stop himself acting on his every thought.

His childhood had been one of decadence. Loved by his parents, well educated and given everything he asked for the character he now played was who he should be. But he had always contained within him an evil core, a darkness he always knew he had to hide. It was also a thing he needed to vent. Continue reading



With the paladins gone Finn’s city was a different place. He had been here for five days now, and still he remained hidden for fear of being caught. He had promised the old man he would head to the Golden Raven, but that was now a burnt out husk. Kole, on order of the king, had set to the torch a number of seemingly random buildings over the last few days. Finn assumed he was going after the watchers, or maybe the rumoured resistance. With the Golden Raven he was fairly sure his promise to the old man was null and void, so he had decided instead to find the resistance and lend his arm to them. This was after all his city, and he believed it was something he should fight for. Continue reading


Warder Quinn sat in the blacked out carriage, being thrown around as it was dragged along the rough road from the city. A little light shone so she could read the many documents, books and reports that were her only travelling companions. Well, that was not entirely true. She was part of the large caravan of paladins moving from the city to sanctuary, but she not allowed out of the carriage while on the move. When they stopped for the night a large tent was connected to the carriage door, and she was kept away from the mass merriment that was the camp fire. Continue reading