Thread: Varena Eberhart vs. The World (Decepticonsneedlovetoo x Atroxa)

I'm afraid this mission will hardly scratch the surface of your talents, my child, yet it must be done. The voice, though wilted with age, still held a authoritative resonance, and in the dimly lit room, swirling with galaxies of dust, it was as if it were decreed by the Lord Himself. Its source stood proud, facing away from three, kneeling figures. A tall man, standing straight in defiance of the weight of time, he stared sightlessly at the image before him A stained-glass window. The craft had been lost to the test of time, and yet the piece still remained intact, a painstakingly rendered image of an angelic battle against evil, frozen in time. Multicolored light dappled his face, cast by the setting sun, and though he could feel its warmth on the creases of his age, he had long since lost the ability to witness it, eyes, milky white, staring at only the void. Of course you know of Minotaurs. The stories that prevailed in an era, long since passed, of a darker, more ignorant time. Unfortunately, your foe will not be so easy to dismiss. It calls itself Ironhoof, the brutes aren't exactly ones for subtlety, and in two days time, the anniversary of its crude existence will be upon us. The disgust on the priests voice was palpable, as if merely speaking of such an abomination was enough to taint his words, and his ancient hand tightened on the head of his cane, a pearlescent rod etched with numerous verses of the Old Testament, slightly yellowed with time. That shall be plenty opportunity to eliminate such a loathsome beast. Go now. Flanking Varena Eberhart were two younger priests, both with heads bowed low, and, when dismissed, they stood promptly. On the left was a young man, with barely twenty years at his back. His dark complexion made him stand out amongst the primarily white priests of the temple, few as they were, but despite his age he had an almost prodigal tactical sense. As such, he was one of the closest advisers a hunter could have, whether it as about the beast itself, or even the human it had once been before being consumed. Giving a bow Aaron Whiry only cast the briefest of glances at the hunter before retreating quietly. On the right, however a pale, almost pallid priest opened his mouth as if poised to speak but shut it tight as he reconsidered. It was likely wise, as Early's comments were almost always bitingly sarcastic, but even he wouldn't dare speak back to the Father. The Armorer gave a quick, stiff bow before retreating, knowing he'd have plenty of time to speak with Varena personally soon enough. Once alone, the Father walked, with the help of his cane, to a large, plush chair, likely one of the only semblances of comfort this place had to offer. Seating himself he remained facing away from the young hunter, though he only remained silent a moment. My Child, this battle may seem easy, but rest assured, I'd only be sending you if we received great gain from it. he knew he didn't have to explain himself. That his words were enough of an assurance that their path was righteous, but he also knew that setting a young hunter's mind at ease was as much of a necessity as arming her with weapons or knowledge. Isolated in a forgotten monastery did little for morale, and though the stone of the walls seemed secure, they were as fragile as a bird's egg, hoping to remain hidden from the serpents that slithered all too close, eager to crack it open and consume it completely. Now, prepare yourself.