Father's Blessings

[Roger Smith]

"From the sounds of it, this is not an undertaking that will be anything approaching easy." The paladin turned his eyes back forward, toward the distant gate to the endless dunes. "But be that as it may..." One hand slowly lifted to adjust his glasses, the lenses momentarily cast into an eerie silver sheen. "...exterminating such vile creatures as the ones you describe has been my personal mission for decades." It was with an all too delighted grin that he turned back to the Templar, and extended a hand. "So come on then, mister Cormac. It seems like we've got business to tend to, and it just wouldn't be polite at all to be late for it."

With just a moment of trepidation, the man in armor reached up and took the priest's hand, and with minimal effort was all but hauled up onto the back of the horse by the giant of a man already astride it. And in a flash, they were moving. Hooves raising a thunder as Anderson spurred the horse to movement, swiftly building up speed to a full charge.

"It's quite strange, I have to admit," he spoke only a moment later. "Before I came here and found ye...I had just finished dealin' with another group o' petty bandits and thugs. Naught but highwaymen, preyin' on the poor and unfortunate who happened to wander past their territory." Rarely was such a thing ever truly a coincidence, when the business of the Lord was at work; Anderson knew this better than most. But it was a remarkable occurrence, all the same. "Their leader turn tail and ran, managing to escape, but his pride and courage were broken. He left them behind to wet the earth, along with the blood of his subordinates." There was a quiet, almost manic chuckle, nearly drowned out by the noise of rushing wind. "He will not be a threat any time soon."

"That...is quite the coincidence, to be sure." Shay spoke up in agreement. "I think we'll be dealing with a lot more than just a few rogue thugs in Nippur, however."

"I would hope so!" Anderson voiced. And though his face was hidden from the Templar, it was a mask of sheer, murderous delight. At the reins, his hands were locked into a grip so tight that his gloves were stretched taut in protest over his knuckles. "It would hardly be an endeavor worth being serious about otherwise." He turned to look back over his shoulder. The lenses of his glasses were shrouded, obscured in a flare of silver and blue light seemingly without source. And at the angle of his gaze, the grin bared teeth which seemed almost pointed, feral and inhuman. "The more there are, the more sure that they are safe in their chaos and despotism. And the more righteous it will be to shatter that misguided belief." His head turned forward again. "They are naught but a field of withered, diseased straw, and we will be the blade that reaps them and tears their roots from the earth."