[Damian Reis]

The large stone doors of the castle creaked slowly open, then slammed shut. The hall fell silent again for a few moments before footsteps could be heard heading down the long hallway .. slow, calm, and methodical. Through the darkness, a figure emerged, clothed entirely in bright white regalia. A second set of footsteps followed, with another figure emerging. The man, likely an apprentice clergyman, handed a large book to the figure in white, who took a few steps forward into the throne room. The thick fog of the night still surrounded the throne room, which was open to the elements, as dawn had not quite yet arrived.

Stefan Heloise, the Order's high priest, and last remaining active founding member of the Order, breathed heavily as he took in the ghastly sight in front of them. A body ripped to shreds and left on the floor, the Lord Reagent's table, and the White Throne of God King Brutus. Stefan held up a piece of cloth to his mouth, prepared to stifle a gag, before recomposing himself and putting the cloth back into a small pouch on his waist. The other scenes had been sickening in their own right, this one was worse, and had an added element of discomfort .. the White Throne giving a heightened feeling that otherworldly forces were watching.

The priest looked down to his tome and began to speak, his voice calm and soothing:

Save this servant,
Who has placed their trust in you, my King,
Grasp their hand in yours,
And lead them through the fog,
To your Eternal Glory,
So they may partake,
In the triumphs of all those who came before,
And may bask in your light forever more.

Stefan held an Ankh in his hand and stepped forward, still looking at the tome, but keeping just enough attention to miss spots of blood and pieces of flesh on the floor as he moved.

We ask you to cleanse your seat,
To convert the blood of these martyrs,
Into a ward against the enemy,
A fortified keep against the darkness,
And cast out all the unclean spirits,
From Caerleon, your city, with your people.

Setting the Ankh down into a pocket, the priest then removed a small container from the belt on his waste. It appeared to be a small ceramic with a firm lid on the top. He removed the lid and placed a small twig into the container. As he pulled out the twig it emerged covered with drops of water. Holding the twig up into the air, he twitched his wrist forward, flicking liquid straight ahead at the White Throne. He continued around the room with slow, calm, steps, the apprentice clergyman stood silent as each uncomfortable silence was broken with the sound of the branch.

After navigating the entire circumference of the room, Stefan returned to the entrance, closing the tome and handing it back to the apprentice.

"Have this one cleaned, like all the rest."