"Everything is ready for what will certainly be the greatest crusade led by our church… One motion is all that I need to tear open the fabric of time and space and manifest a gateway linking us to the Divine Realm" Pietrus clutched his tall staff firmly.
The holy sceptre was ornate with a fist-sized stone made from pure, solidified divine death energy. A manifestation of his utter and total devotion to Death–To the Pale Lady, Matron of all that is undead. The highest benefactor of the Empire.
The ancient skeleton creaked like old wood with every movement.
"The gods. The divinities. The idols. The Deities… Long ago, they vanished from this world. Banished into silence by one known as 'The Defiler Of The Holy'. Even long after the disappearance of that man, they remain unresponsive to the most honest of prayers. Now, only the remnants–All that believers receive are not genuine responses, but the automated inner workings of the way of power that is godhood"
