11. Steeple of Inquisition
.
The man crouched behind the Four Cardinals statue as a procession of golden knights and vacants marched by. He waited until they passed from sight, then dashed for cover beside a wooden stake. He stayed watchful of the skies, fearing the angels might drop down at any moment.
Another movement caught his eye, and he crouched again as two bird-masked Inquisitors entered the courtyard, unaware of his presence. They continued to the base of a soaring tower, unlocked the heavily barred door, then disappeared into the spire.
The Lucid One formed a theory. If the Sentinels held one of the cathedral's keys, the Inquisitors might have the other. If so, it was likely kept in that guarded steeple. Besides, he still had the Inquisitor's slime-coated keys, which would certainly grant him entry. It was his best and only choice.
He reached the doorway, then tore the fetid keyring from his pocket. It took him a moment to find the right fit, but soon the entrance opened with a creak. As he stepped past the threshold, a peculiar and unexpected sound reached his ears.
Someone was playing an organ with fervent enthusiasm.
.
.
The antechamber was bathed in indigo light, emanating from crystal beacons along the walls. They shimmered between statues of hooded figures cradling ornamental staves, casting shadows across the black-and-white checkered tiles. Above, the domed ceiling depicted a scene from legend. A man dressed as royalty knelt before Cardinal Andros, with his unmistakable mitre and golden cross-spear. At the nobleman's back was a mountain of riches, and in the clouds above, a choir of juvenile angels rejoiced.
The Lucid One ignored all this; he was fixated on the organist ahead. The hunched, black-robed figure was larger than any man, sporting a wide-brimmed hat and a pair of ragged raven wings that shed feathers with each impassioned stroke of the keys. The enormous organ had glass pipes stretching out of sight, and the sounds issuing from it were jarring, each chord clashing dissonantly, creating a squall of pandemonium that echoed throughout the tower.
The only benefit to the noise was that it masked his approach. As he entered the chamber, he gazed up into the hollow spire. Overhead were perpendicular stone beams with a crystalline chandelier hanging from its center, and far above, countless walkways crisscrossed like a chaotic spider's web. Screams of torment drifted from up high, drowned out by the bellowing organ.
To either side were twin staircases curving along the walls. The Lucid One crept towards the left, eyes locked on the maniacal organ player, and quietly ascended.
As he neared the top, a caged door suddenly swung open. An Inquisitor stepped through, holding a black cane and blue-tinted lantern. This one wore no mask, revealing sunken eyes and ashen skin, and immediately pointed a finger at the intruder as his pale face stretched into a terrifying howl.
The raucous music stopped abruptly. The organist raised its billed facemask, glass goggles magnifying its clouded eyes, and the mottled wings spread wide in a burst of black feathers. As it retrieved its cane from the floor, the opposite door flung open, and two more Inquisitors rushed in.
Without hesitation, the Lucid One charged ahead, hoping to overpower the lone enemy and escape. The Inquisitor raised his lantern and released a miasma of purple mist that enveloped the man, burning his eyes and throat. He covered his face as he choked, fighting the instinct to retreat, then forced himself onward.
As he stumbled through the cloud, the Inquisitor locked the door with a snap. The Lucid One whipped his cane in fury, but the opponent tumbled over it and struck back with his own cane. The man nearly fell down the steps as he leaned to avoid the blow.
Across the room, the others closed in, following a walkway that curved behind the glass pipes. Below, the organist raised its cane and launched an orb of bubbling shadows from its gold pommel. The Lucid One rolled, but too soon; the viscous sphere swerved in midair and burst over his body. He staggered on his feet as the darkness seep painfully through his clothes and skin.
A black cane cracked across his face, sending his vision reeling, then another miasma washed over him. He lost his sense of direction and dove wildly to escape the mist, its poison building in his veins, while the Inquisitors rushed after him, canes raised like spears. He ignored the nauseating toxins and dodged between the numerous blows. One caught him across the temple, then another nearly impaled his shoulder, but he rolled past as it slammed into the walkway.
The organist fired a second orb at him. He deflected it with his shield, and when its chimes rang, he recalled the miracle he had learned. Summoning every ounce of faith, he thrust the shield high.
As the Inquisitors neared, rings of light constricted around their waists, and they suddenly struggled with each dragging step. The man repeatedly whipped the first two targets, shredding cloth and skin, until they dropped into lifeless heaps.
From his periphery, the Lucid One spotted another dark projectile, and dove behind the organ pipes for cover. The sphere shattered the glass, raining shards across the floor. He shielded himself from the jagged pieces, but the last Inquisitor also fired a deep-blue sphere. This time, he waited until it was close before leaping aside. The spell sailed past before exploding harmlessly against the wall.
In an instant, his staff snapped forward, impaling the Inquisitor's throat. The gaunt figure choked as the weapon returned, then the man charged forward to club him over the head. The crystal pommel cracked against his skull, and the enemy tumbled limply from the walkway.
The organist screeched as it soared upward on molting wings. The Lucid One dove to avoid the golden pommel, which cracked against the marble tiles. As the wispy sorcerer floated down, he cast a soul arrow into its chest, causing it to recoil violently.
With a wave of its cane, four dark masses appeared above its pointed hat, each with a smaller pair of orbs like misshapen eyes. As one, they floated towards him. The spheres moved slowly, but he knew they would pursue him like the others. Gripping his silver staff, he waited until they were right before him, then dropped to the floor and rolled off the walkway. The spheres tried to follow, but burst against the ground with a wet splash.
The Lucid One tumbled into open air, straight at the winged organist, and plunged his staff through its glass goggles. The creature shrieked in agony as he drove it deeper, then its clawed hands flung him off. The Inquisitor clutched its broken mask, flailing blindly, and he pressed his advantage.
He shot an orb of light into the air, which exploded in a shower of arrows. As they rained down on the enemy, he simultaneously lashed out, landing three blows. The Inquisitor swung its cane, but the Lucid One dodged low and counterattacked from behind. He whipped once, then the staff snapped together. Gripping it like a sword, he drove it between the dark angel's wings.
The creature gave a shrill cry as it folded, fading to ash around him, until all that was left was the shattered white mask on the floor. The Lucid One shook the dust from his cane, then drew some purple blossoms from his pockets and chewed them eagerly, purging the poison from his body.
Something else glinted within the soot pile. Leaning down, he brushed aside the remains to find a silver ring with a square, purple gemstone. He inspected it curiously, then slipped it on his finger. Though its properties were a mystery, any assistance was welcomed at this point.
He gazed around the chamber, now eerily silent without the discordant music. Even the mournful echoes from above had ceased. As he climbed the staircase again, he sipped his Estus to restore some energy, then withdrew the slimy keys from his pocket. After a few tries, the door unlocked, and he journeyed on into the tower.
.
.
The next hallway was devoid of illumination. Only the soft glow of the seal on his forehead lit the stone path. The man climbed a short stairwell before reaching a curved corridor, with heavily barred gates lining either side. To the left was a lever, which he ignored. His concern was drawn to the groans coming from the gated rooms.
Moving forward, he realized this was a prison ward. Each cell was full of lamenting vacants, chained and cuffed in uncomfortable positions. Some wore iron restraints around their necks, forcing their arms to either side, while others had their hands trapped before them in supplicating poses. One poor soul hung by his wrists from behind, shoulders dislocated, toes barely touching the floor. Yet another had his arms bound, numerous needles penetrating his body.
The Lucid One stared at the atrocities as he passed. He noticed each prisoner had a blackened seal on their forehead, scabbed over and shedding no light. Some showed signs of infection, with gangrene spreading across their faces.
A metallic screech made him jump. A blue light appeared around the bend as a pair of masked Inquisitors approached, spotting him immediately. Both produced parchments from their black robes and slid them along their canes, coating their weapons with a slimy purple substance. Then, they charged.
The man ran for the lever, using both hands to force it down. As expected, the cell bars began to rise. The Inquisitors paused, glancing around in alarm as the vacants marveled at their freedom. In an instant, they flooded the corridor, falling upon their captors with vengeance.
As the Inquisitors vanished beneath the shriveled bodies, the Lucid One rushed in, weaving between the claws and chains flailing wildly. A prisoner lunged at him with bound hands grasping, but his silver cane lanced through its mouth and out the other side. He never slowed as he tore it free, kicking another vacant from his path.
He rounded the bend and slammed into the exit, fumbling for his keys, while the cries behind him drew closer. At last, he unlocked the door and slid through, shutting it tight, then fell back as frail hands reached through the bars, trying to drag him back into the mindless mob.
He turned away from the insane prisoners, finding a spiraling stairwell lit by blue crystals. With a weary sigh, he continued to climb.
.
.
After many turns, he came to one of the bridges spanning the tower. There were no guardrails, only a dizzying drop to the chamber below. Numerous cages hung by chains from above, some human-shaped, others like massive birdcages.
He refrained from looking down as he crossed to the other side, where he found a sturdy oak door with a grated window. Through it, he beheld two masked Inquisitors hunched over a screaming vacant, restrained in a metal chair. A complex contraption forced its head back, and prying clamps pulled its mouth open. One Inquisitor used a pair of steaming cold tongs to stretch out their captive's tongue, while the other carefully severed it with a scalpel. Blood gushed from the wound, but most poured down the vacant's throat, and the Inquisitor dabbed the excess spillage with a cloth.
Carefully, the Lucid One tried the handle, which gave way with a faint click. With the Inquisitors distracted, he burst headlong into the room. Their masks snapped up in surprise, and they hastily dropped their tools to draw their weapons.
Taking the initiative, he cast a soul shower into the ceiling, where it exploded over the twin targets. As they were pelted by projectiles, the man caught movement from the corner of his eye, and barely blocked a third Inquisitor's cane. He had been hidden from view in the corner, and further back, another captive lay strapped to a table, countless needles pincushioning his body.
The Inquisitor swung again, his gold pommel clanging against the shield's bells. The Lucid One struck back, but the opponent tumbled under the whipping staff and joined his companions. All three withdrew parchments from their robes, glazed their weapons with purple slime, then charged as one.
He backpedaled desperately as their canes staked into the floor. He lashed out again, but the trio dodged the attack with ease, then one raised his lantern and spewed forth a purple mist. The man covered his face against the poison, though oddly, it did not burn as badly. However, two bubbling spheres shot through the cloud and collided with him, nearly knocking him down with their force.
As he staggered, an Inquisitor leapt through the mist and jabbed a slimy cane between his ribs. The man gasped as the poisonous substance soaked into his lungs, but quickly retaliated by driving his staff through the enemy's shoulder. He kicked his foe back, then the segmented staff flailed viciously. The Inquisitor was whipped twice across his body as the others advanced.
The Lucid One tried casting his miracle, but a pommel slammed into his stomach. As he fought for breath, a second cane cracked him over the head. He stumbled back, warm blood trickling down his cheek, then another liquid sphere raced towards him. He barely dodged in time, and it flew past to explode over the table-bound vacant. It screeched in agony, tore one arm free of its leather restraints, and began clawing at the others.
The Inquisitors charged again, giving the man no time to collect himself. He blocked a thrust, dodged beneath a swing, then caught a blow across his back. He raised his shield in desperation, but the next strike was too strong and knocked his guard aside. Left wide open, he could only watch as an Inquisitor gripped his shoulder and ran him through the midsection, dropping him to his knees.
The trio gather around, preparing their deathblows. Suddenly, a thin needle slid through one of their necks. The Inquisitor collapsed as the vacant roared in victory, having freed itself from the table, and leapt upon its captors with abandon, tearing out the needles to use as weapons.
While the Inquisitors were occupied, the Lucid One took the opportunity to cast his miracle. Rings of light surrounded the others, hindering their movements, but the frenzied prisoner ignored it. With a needle in each fist, it drove them through the eyepieces of an Inquisitor's mask, and he fell to the floor in spasms.
The last one launched a watery sphere at the vacant. It shrieked as the spell burst over its withered body. The man began casting a soul arrow, but the Inquisitor flung a knife into his forearm. He winced in pain, almost dropping his staff as the poisoned blade tainted his flesh.
As the miracle faded, the vacant was upon the Inquisitor in an instant, driving another needle into his chest. They struggled for a moment, until the black sorcerer finally rammed his cane through the prisoner's jaw. The tip burst from its skull, and the vacant gave one last moan as it slumped in defeat.
The Lucid One thrust his separated staff, catching the enemy's mask and knocking it aside. The gaunt visage spun to him howling, cane raised, but the man struck repeatedly and interrupted his spellcasting. He rolled forward, lashing the target across the face, then blocked a counterattack. The staff snapped together, and with grim determination, he plunged it into the center of the Inquisitor's chest. The sorcerer's pale features went slack as he toppled over with a dying gasp.
Gasping with exhaustion, the man went to retrieve his purple moss, but stopped. Despite his poisoned wounds, he did not feel its effects, and glanced down at the silver ring in understanding. It must be magically resistant to toxins, giving him a much-needed advantage against the Inquisitor's arsenal.
With the battle over, he drank greedily from his flasks, then glanced around. Various torture devices lay about the chamber, across tables, and mounted on walls. The other vacant was still bound to the chair, gurgling incoherently through its bloodied maw. The Lucid One searched for an exit, then noticed another heavy door to the side. As he approached, he found a sealed chamber, but what lay inside made his mouth go slack.
He needed a better look, so he pushed the door open and slowly approached. A dissected creature lay on an operating table, its internal organs left intact. The being was unlike anything he had seen before. It was a mess of tentacles, with moist, silver-blue skin. There was no face, just a lump of flesh and a narrow stinger. Its only remotely human feature was its four-fingered arms.
Plastered to the the wall was a diagram depicting the deceased thing, with numbers and notes detailing its anatomy. In one corner of the parchment was the word Nephel.
Then, he remembered. He had seen this creature before in the sewers, though that one had been turned to stone. Either way, its abnormal appearance made his skin crawl.
Beside the operating table stood a small basin holding a golden vial. The Lucid One picked it up curiously, its liquid contents swaying as he turned it over. It was an elixir of some kind, and though he did not know its effect, he found a pocket to store it in for safekeeping.
There was nothing else of interest in the room, so he left the mysterious creature to carry on with his mission.
.
.
After another twisting stairway, he arrived at a second bridge. He was near the top of the tower now, and balanced carefully as he crossed the chasm. Beside him hung a massive cage containing another tentacled creature, though this one was petrified and much larger. Blue flowers sprouted from its stone tendrils, and dozens of needles were embedded in its solid flesh.
The Lucid One ignored the monstrosity and pressed on, climbing even more curling stairs, until he came to an extravagant hall. A lush violet carpet stretched across its length, and glistening chandeliers hung overhead. Along the walls were a series of paintings, each one illustrating some fabled event. One portrayed the Basilica surrounded by tumultuous waves; another showed a fleet of ships departing from its walls. In the next, Cardinal Andros pierced a black dragon's neck with his spear, then an ominous knight stood before a kingdom in flames.
He paused before a painting of the Inquisitors battling a horde of feral beasts, with three winged figures leading the charge. The first had armor covered in thorns, including his greatsword, all bathed in the enemies' blood. The second wore a distinct helmet shaped like the very beasts he fought. His shield was emblazoned with a hound's head, and his ornate sword was oddly thick and rectangular. The third was a woman with silver hair flowing from her winged helm, and an elegant longbow launching volleys of flaming blue arrows.
Though the artwork was beautiful, he could not waste precious time. He continued to a pair of tall silver doors decorated in angels and laced vines. With great effort, he heaved them open and entered the final chamber.
The first thing he noticed was a large golden brazier in the center of the room, lit by a dark blue flame that illuminated the grand portrait ahead. It depicted a single figure, the same horse-helmed Cardinal as the statue outside. Twin curved blades crossed his chest, red-gold and silver-black, with cerulean embers dancing around them. Beneath it was a plaque bearing his name — Cardinal Lycian, Grand Inquisitor.
In front of the painting was a bookstand holding a thick black tome, and just above it hung a silver key. Relief washed over him as he quickly pocketed the treasure, praying it was the one he sought. Before leaving, he grabbed the tome as well, certain that the pale snake could find some use for it.
As he turned to depart, pools of shadows bubbled from the floor. His elation vanished as a pair of winged Inquisitors rose from the darkness, each wielding a wicked scythe. They rang their silver chimes, wreathing the blades in deep blue flames, then rushed at him with beating wings.
The first scythe whistled past his head as he rolled, but the second sliced into his chest. The man clutched the bleeding wound, feeling the poison flood his veins again, then a blade nearly severed his leg. He dove aside, each cut numbed by a bitter coldness, and tried striking back with his whipping cane. The Inquisitors dodged swiftly on black wings, then thrust their scythes at his neck.
He avoided the first, but the second nicked him with its curved tip, drawing a gout of dark blood from his arteries. Not only was the poison congealing, so potent that his ring was near useless, but he was slowly bleeding out. His strength faded as he fell back from the twin strikes, constantly on the move, unable to heal himself. He needed a distraction.
He rolled beside the great brazier, and as the dark angels closed in, he kicked with his good leg. The bowl tipped over, spilling blue flames across the floor along with blackened bones, causing the Inquisitors to recoil. He hastily drew his sapphire flask and chugged, partially healing his wounds. Even so, the blood still streamed out, and the poison kept stinging.
Amidst the scattered bones, he spotted a glistening skull, and gave silent praise to Nos. Acting quick, he booted the skull across the room, where it shattered against the wall in a cloud of crystalline dust. His enemies instantly raced after it, seeking to devour the shimmering haze.
With their attention occupied, the Lucid One thrust his cane into the cold flames, which clung to its silver segments. In a flash, he lashed the angels across their backs, drawing cries as feathers dispersed in a flurry.
The crystal haze evaporated, and the Inquisitors spun in outrage. They swiped at him with renewed vigor, forcing him to dive madly. A scythe slashed into his back, sending him sprawling, then he rolled sideways as another axed into the floor. He came up swinging, catching one of the sorcerers over the face, and followed with a powerful thrust. The Inquisitor slouched lethargically, but the other flew in and almost decapitated him in a single stroke.
He countered with two lashes, forcing his foe back. The blue flames faded from his staff, but also from the scythes, and the angels were moving slower now. He realized they had been poisoned by the same cold fire that infected him. It was only a matter of time until they succumbed to it.
The man circled the toppled brazier, keeping it between them, until one of the Inquisitors soared above the flames and slammed its weapon down. He tumbled aside and struck back, dealing a harsh blow as the other charged. He tried to block its scythe, but the curved blade reached over the shield and tore through his shoulder. He forced it back with another swing as his blood poured profusely. At this rate, he would be dead long before the enemy.
He rolled far back to drink from his flasks, only to find them empty. He balked as the Inquisitors closed in. His life was ticking away, and even as he dodged the sweeping scythes, despair overcame him. He was out of options.
Suddenly, he remembered the golden vial in his pocket. Taking a distancing leap, he pulled it out, tore off the stopper, and without knowing what it might do, he chugged the silver liquid.
To his amazement, the mysterious elixir fully cured him. His wounds sealed shut, the poison vanished from his veins, and he was rejuvenated completely. The angels charged with a shriek, but he dodged right between their blades, then turned to cast his soul shower.
As arrows of light pelted their shadowy forms, the Lucid One thrashed them vehemently with his cane. One of the Inquisitors collapsed, weak from the poison, and he finished it off with a thrust through its collarbone. The creature wailed as it crumbled to ash, while its companion stared in sudden terror.
Its hesitation only fueled the man's resolve. His cane shone as he fired a soul arrow into its chest, then quickly closed the distance and whipped in succession. The scythe bore down on him, but this time he blocked it perfectly, though the blow nearly flung him off his feet. He tumbled back to avoid a second swing, prepared to shoot another soul arrow, then paused. The Inquisitor sunk to the floor, gradually dissipating into smoke, and gave one last cry as the poison devoured it at last.
He lowered his cane hesitantly, anticipating another ambush, but the tower was silent once again. The Lucid One looked himself over, astounded at the elixir's effect. He had been near death, and now he felt better than ever. Pushing his awe aside, he returned through the hall of paintings and back down the stairwell, before more enemies came to challenge him.
As he crossed the lofty bridge, he paused. The cages that hung from the ceiling were connected to gears, though there was no lever in sight. After weighing his options, he decided to step into the open cage, and with a jerk, it automatically began to descend. It carried him all the way down to the balcony overlooking the organ, still surrounded by Inquisitors' corpses. He paid them no mind as he headed for the entrance, glad to be rid of this torturous place.
.
.
The Lucid One peered around cautiously before exiting the tower. Once more, the courtyard was empty, without an enemy in sight. Exhaling in relief, he pushed the door completely open and stepped through, then froze.
He was wrong. The courtyard was not entirely empty. A familiar face stood before the statue of the Four Cardinals, arms lifted in praise. It was Brother Edson, crying out joyously. Unnerved, the man stepped past the burnt stakes and hesitantly approached the zealous Sentinel.
As he drew closer, Edson finally noticed him. "Hello, brother!" he shouted, causing the man to cringe in fear. He expected the angels to come swarming, but they never did. "How fortunate that you should appear now, of all times! I owe you my sincerest gratitude!"
Then, he saw it. At his feet was the copper breaking wheel, with another familiar figure strewn between its spokes. It was Lady Serise. Her bandanas had fallen away, revealing haggard features, splayed brown curls, and a blackened seal upon her forehead. Her arms and legs twisted unnaturally through the wheel, and her empty eyes stared into the clouded sky.
She was dead.
The Lucid One fought back a sickening sensation that bubbled in his throat. "I found this wretch sneaking through the catacombs," Brother Edson carried on, oblivious to his revulsion. "It was only because of you that I was aware of her trespassing. Without your help, who knows what manner of sin she may have committed!"
The man balked, realizing the terrible truth. He had summoned the Sentinel in the tombs. He had revealed Serise's presence. It was all his fault.
"Now, this poor soul can join the others along the wall and atone for her crimes. Please, brother, accept this gift as a token of my thanks." Edson held out a gloved hand, and in his palm was a pale tongue resting on a bloody cloth — Serise's tongue.
The Lucid One finally turned from the horror, afraid of what he might do should he stay. As he left, the Sentinel called out, "Ah, of course! You have a meeting with the Cardinals. Your selfless sacrifice shall never be forgotten, friend! Nos bless you!"
His knuckles went white as he approached the cathedral. There would be no more sacrifices. He had not come this far only to surrender his mortal soul. He had not suffered all these trials simply to die in vain.
No matter what, he would kill the Cardinals.
.
.
Appendix
.
Darklight Blade — A forbidden miracle discovered by Cardinal Lycian, the Grand Inquisitor. Coats a weapon in dark, toxic flames. The existence of Darklight magic has confounded scholars for centuries, for its own nature seems to contradict itself. In spite of their research, the Inquisitors keep its origins a closely guarded secret.
Deep Orb — A sorcery taught to novice Inquisitors. Fires a cloud of deep souls that pursues its target. Even in death, the lost souls of the deep continue to serve their masters.
Divine Blessing — Holy water blessed by the angel Samaras. Cures all wounds and ailments. The Divine Mother pines for her lost children, and seeks to alleviate their anguish.
Grudgery — A sorcery taught only to High Inquisitors. Summons a mass of deep souls which pursue their target. The great flood claimed many lives, and their souls still envy the living to this day.
Inquisitor Cane — A staff used by Inquisitors. Functions as a catalyst or club. The Inquisitors fought many wars under Cardinal Lycian, and were trained in both the arts of warfare and sorcery.
Inquisitor Lantern — A talisman crafted by the Inquisition. It is filled with a dark, heatless flame. The Inquisitors served as vanguards of the Cardinals' army, chosen from only the highest ranking Sentinels.
Inquisitor's Esoteric Tome — A cryptic tome of the Inquisition, written in code. The followers of Cardinal Lycian safely guard their secrets, and none outside their ranks know of their concealed history. Scholars have long speculated on these tales, but few could guess the profane truth.
Inquisitor's Key — A silver key granted to the Inquisitors of Cardinal Lycian. Unlocks the door to the old cathedral. During the war with the Nephel, the Cardinals stayed within the old cathedral, and dictated orders through their subordinates.
Pale Tongue — A severed tongue drained of blood. The Inquisitors often take these as trophies from sinners, relieving them of their source of temptation.
Poisonbite Ring — A ring worn by High Inquisitors. Reduces poison damage. Toxins were employed in the Nephel wars to great success, but unfortunately, they also claimed the lives of many Inquisitors.
Toxic Mist — A guarded miracle of the Inquisition. Creates a hanging cloud of toxic mist. When Samaras spawned unholy abominations, the Inquisitors turned the seas dark with poison in an attempted purge.
Toxic Resin — A parchment of toxic resin that applies poison to a weapon. Used extensively by Inquisitors for its effectiveness against the Nephel. It is said their pale blood cannot withstand the impurities, which turns their kind to stone.
War Scythe — A great scythe used by the Inquisition. Causes bleeding. During the Nephel wars, the Inquisitors were granted pardons to employ these weapons, which bled their enemies dry.
Saint Karine: deviantart (dankbouls87/art/Saint-Karine-the-Archer-769229678)
