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INQUISITORIAL REPORT | THE HOLY INQUISITION


Dairsad
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A one-eyed bastard lingered in a foreign realm as he questioned the acts of what happened earlier in the basilica. Fiat iustitia et pereat mundus, he thought to himself, that flexio could have a reasoning behind the acts. Still, his thoughts of an unborn child under his conscious beleaguered him further.

At long last, he came to a shrine of God to pray and found his answer in the silence of thoughts, a commitment that justifies the means. He stood up and confidently whispered.
"Let justice be done, though the world perish." 

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A horrified Elf, once in the employment of the crown, vomited before thanking the gods he wasn’t Canonist.

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A woman read the missive, her nails growing to an oddly and inhuman length as they destroyed the papers with a quick slash. A tear was shed for her friend, and a grin for the head inquisitor.

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Naexi read the report carefully. Still rather sad that it had to be the librarian who was a vampire, and at the fact that child hadn't made it. "But at least only one innocent died." she muttered.

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One Liridona Amador scoffed at such a report, throwing the missive onto a table. "What lies..." After the initial anger of reading the missive subsided, however, the woman let out another sniffle and swiped at her tear filled eyes.. signing the lorraine as she prayed for the souls of her dear in-law and unborn cousin's child for the upteenth time.

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"A strange day it is when the smallfolk weep fer vampyrs n' other creatures o' the nigh'," grumbled Ser Arthur Gant. Nonetheless, the knight lit a candle for the babe that never was.

 

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The Lady Via Weiss Colborn heard of the news soon enough, and she tried to make sense of it.

Is that what happened to her Governess?

How many things were hidden? 

How many did this woman kill?

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"Unfortunate that the babe was killed. Such wanton brutality is unbecoming of the Inquisition - but, I suppose, the child will enjoy itself far more in the Seven Skies than it would have in the care of an unholy vampyr." Ontillas spoke a prayer for the victims of Ibleesian temptation, and then continued with his day - stowing away the Inquisitorial Report for future reference.

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"The Inquisition?" Muttered a short 'Ame from her living room's loveseat. She skimmed over the majority of the report carelessly, brows furrowed as her mind lingered on an all-too-familiar religious order.

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The missive would reach a paricialr one eyed man, resting upon a stone as he looked over the city of Valdev. He'd click his tongue as he'd open his notebook scratching Allessandra's name off his list. "Oh dear sister.. what did vy become.." A slight tear would leave his eye before he'd raise going to the nearest tree where he had spotted a owl nesting some time ago going to burry the book scracthing the letter A to its bark. "I shall miss you Sandra, yet vyr memory will never die... that I promise.." he then pulled his hood over his head going on his merry way

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Amaya lit a candle within her chambers that eve, mourning the babe's life that was lost. The Queen had not been there to witness the execution of Allessandra herself, but the news pained her all the same. The sting of betrayal from a longtime friend, and a longing for what the child could have been.

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A fellow woman of the church found herself retching into a basin, her forehead slick with sweat. She bit back tears between shuddering hurls, grieving for her unborn neice. . . Vampire's spawn or not, that child had been blood. And now- never to see the light of day. "Killed in a church!" She muttered. "Whatever happened to Sanctuary. . ." Nicolette Amador signed the lorraine o'er her chest, a prayer let out for the not even born young. . .

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Brendell Colborn felt sick to his stomach for the loss of life, and in particular, the knowledge that this woman had admitted to being his kin. Admitted to being his father's sister. He thought he'd seen her perish before, but she had re-summoned herself, it seemed. How many had she deceived, lied to, killed? 

 

He thought back to the times he'd felt their conversations go a bit funny, a bit off. He should have trusted his gut. 

 

Bren began to pack away a bag- he was going on a trip. 

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A 'young' blonde medic had been at the scene, subjected to tests just as Allessandra was. Searched for suspicious material, shouted at. Though, this was not what lingered on Elizabette's mind, the image that lingered was of the unborn child that she wept for. The child that she'd promised to care for regardless. The vampire that had passed had expressed deep worry for the safety of the child, safety that Elizabette had hoped to provide. She'd failed. I suppose that was the price the long-lived had to pay, seeing so many die. Though, the death of innocent beings was enough to spur something in the pale, old, Waldenian.

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