Divina made her way along the once-well-travelled forest road toward the abandoned town of Orholt. Her silver armour rang out clear with each step along the silent, forgotten path. Each step in her confident stride became a statement of faith, stronger than words, that declared that the goddess Audrashni walked with her. At her side hung a cruciform longsword, cast with elegant simplicity, as was the custom of a Paladin in training. She would be gifted in her career with her true weapon. An enchanted blade that would carry within it an aspect of the storm. But for now a regular blade was all she had. Next to the sword, along her belt hung a series of small pouches filled with sundry items, everything a Paladin might need for a ritual, and nestled among them was a wickedly sharp, curved, silver-handled dagger that sat in a leather formed sheath. The dagger had been a gift from Akkoni to mark the anniversary of the first year that they had been together. Over her shoulder she had slung a satchel that contained her most treasured possessions, among which was her copy of the holy texts known as The Wisdom of Audrashi.

She had been returning to the Southern Citadel with important news, when tales of the inhabitants of Orholt and their grisly fate had found her along the road home. They had been gruesome tales of a town enslaved by a terrible and malicious creature of shadows, shame and unholy rot. Terrifying rumours of twisted necromancy and bitter entropic enchantment had been common talk in the bars and taverns she had stayed in along her route. As the stories had grown she had been left with no choice but to investigate and, as was necessary, intervene as a representative of the Southern Citadel of Ilk-Lem-Ardorn. She knew what duty lay ahead.

She shivered at the thought.

“Audrashni, preserve.” She swore under her breath thinking of the stories she had heard from travellers along the road. The fact was, things were rarely over exaggerated when it came to dealing with the denizens who managed to escape from their other-dimensional, abyssal-bound prisons. If anything they were understated by those who couldn’t handle or comprehend the horrific truths. Most likely no one from the tiny village of Orholt had been left alive, and she silently prayed to Audrashni to send swift and merciful deliverance for anyone who had been deemed ‘interesting’ enough to keep for entertainment.

Divina realized that she had stopped walking. She tried to shake the unusual feeling of fear that gripped her. She closed her eyes refocusing her divine senses. She could feel it there. A seed that the shadow-spirit had planted, and that she had allowed to grow.

“‘She sweeps like the winds through this world,” she recited another passage of The Wisdom, this time louder and with more intent, “bringing salvation to those who seek justice and justice to those who trespass against her.’”

The ancient words brought solidity back to her feet. The fear subsided. Audrashni was with her. The seed, the fear, remained. She could feel it. What she was about to witness was darkness beyond her imagination, but it was the Paladin’s code of honour to investigate such claims and so she pressed on deeper into the wood.

Her stomach turned sour as Divina approached the edge of the town. The strong scent of death washed over her. She tried to regain her composure, gritting her teeth and breathing through her mouth as much as she could. The insignia of the goddess blazed with radiant power across Divina’s chest, as the smell subsided under the power of the enchanted trinket she wore. Another gift from Akkoni.

It smelled of sweet flowering trees of Ilk-Lem-Ardorn, it reminded her of the spring rains that disturbed their buds and released their delicious aroma. The insignia itself was shaped like a bird, wings outstretched and falling like a bolt of lightning. It showed that she belonged to the Order of Cleansing, an ancient and honoured faction of holy Paladin warriors. She has studied for years, under the watchful eye of her mentor Akkoni Gwen. Led to the edge of the world by the renowned sage and appointed torchbearer of the order. It had been a great privilege to be chosen. Under her tutelage, Divina had learned to hone her divine giftings in martial combat and the celestial forms of magic. She had learned to be humble and strong. To value justice and mercy and above all to fight the good fight in the name of her goddess.

The three blue stripes that flowed behind her insignia, set her apart as a hallowed Bearer of the Word of Audrashni. A sect within the order, that travelled the world demonstrating the benevolence and power of the goddess. It was the job of those appointed to carry the good word to all that needed to hear it and to dispel evil and injustice wherever it was lurking. It was the starting place for most Paladin within the order, and though the observation of ranks below the High Council was strictly prohibited, there was an unspoken social standing that saw those in Divina’s position as inferior to the other sects and their important works.

Divina longed to serve the goddess in the High Citadel as a Collector of the Wisdom of Audrashni. The Collectors were a sect responsible for collecting and binding the wise words that the goddess would bring when she became mortal and dwelt with her followers on the Day of the Blessed Vessel, an event that occurred one day once every thirty-eight years, four months and seventeen days. She longed to be in the High Citadel of Gram-Tor-Jael when the hallowed event occurred in seven weeks time but that dream seemed a long way off from where she stood today and as always, duty called.