The friar shook in his polished armour as he proceeded up the steps to the preceptory. He shook from anger, he shook from fear, and he shook from hysteria. “Unclean, unclean my Lord, all vile, defiled. What is thy servant to do? T’would seem the hands of the clock tick away Cove’s final hours 'lest we can eradicated these vermin sins that crawl o’er the souls of the Covian folk.” The squire sat down at his desk and with a plume gripped in his gauntlet he began searching for parchment and the wax seal of the Templi order. “I must send missive anon.” He muttered with a sigh as he began to pen a letter urgently.
To His Eminence, Cardinal of the Northern ChapterFather Superior,
‘Tis an imperative time at which my quill doth sing a mournful hymn to thee. For the Baronship of Cove hath fallen into a state of depravitye, lust, and vice. Most terrible of all there is wytchery afoot throughout the Baronship Houshold. A “spirit” which is likely a wytch’s Sylth hath been discouver’d inside the Green Goblin tavern. In addition to this, no less than three blasphemous documents hath been observed and confiscated in this night alone by Inquisitor Altair de Nostra. Thou shalt see these veritable details upon study of the affixed copper print below that doth depict the search of the Tavern.
We shall brand. We shall baptize. We shall cleanse.
Help me to guide these lost chyldren, so that they may be spared from the infernal pit. I shall conduct mass on the sabbath so that Cove may return to the blessed state of the renate and prithee I might laye mine unworthy eyes upon thee once again anon.
Forgive them for they know not what they do.
*Signed and bound by the chapter seal*Thy humble servant,
Friar Vortimer
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