Letter to the Church

[Kurt Alimar/Markus]

Greetings, My name is Kurt Alimar and I am writing to the church on a matter concerning a recruit who is possessed.  We have him held in a cell, but we are not at liberty to do anything to him.  We humbly request assisstance.  Thank ye for reading this letter and we hope for a response soon.

*Signed*

Mercenary, Kurt Alimar

[Michael Vandrik]

*Friar Vandrik approached the strange fortress now on the site of the preceptory he had left so many months ago. The blueish stones reminded him strongly of the church at Stonekeep. He ran a mailed hand along one wall until he had reached the portcullis, on a hunch he took out his old key and put it to the lock. He was soon rewarded with the click of tumblers falling into place. He gave a weary grin; he would sleep on a real bed this night, thank Higher Being he had survived to do so. He moved about the place warily thrusting his torch into the rooms before him. It seemed empty, nearly deserted; yet the smell was not of old stones and mold. Had the Templi abandoned their post, Higher Being forbid such sin! After some wandering, upon intelect alone he discovered the small nearly minuscule prayer room. He dropped upon his knees in this place and gave his thanks to Higher Being. He had survived, he had done Higher Beings Will, his purposes where fullfilled. His prayers would last late into the sanguine night until he would stir a message in his ears. The message of Higher Being; If the Templi were gone, Cove would need his guidance until help might arrive. He must see that the Church still stood and seek out the Clergy.

He stood quickly and slamming the portcullis behind him; trudged quickly off to Cove with sword in hand. He marched past the buildings of Cove, familiar yet foreign. He soon reached the Church. His sigh of relief was quite audible as he looked upon the stone edifice, unmarred and standing after his long absence. He went to the door and pushed his way inside. The candles where unlit and nothing stirred within. It was as he had feared, the Templi had fled or where quite dead and their Clergy with them. This Church had not been tended in some time, no hymnals sung, no sermons read. . .  Higher Being would not be pleased. He stepped within and started as he stepped in mud, the sound and texture surprising him greatly. He looks to the floor, illuminated only by moonlight and saw that it where tracks; tracks leading up to a decrepit message board. He struck tender to a nearby candle and read the message. His eyes narrowing and the grip on his sword tightening. He would have to speak with this Mercenaries leader. Mercenaries? How far had Cove fallen into sin and heathenism? What blasphemes and dark rituals where now practiced in their fields and behind their doors. How many children had gone unbaptised? A talk he would have indeed with whom ever lead this ragtag band of brutes, these mercenaries calling themself "The Company." *