It seems for once, Evangeline and the Inquisitors were of one mind. Though unfortunately, they were quicker.
The Brume was devastated, most of its 'buildings' were wood and scrap, built in the shadow of more proper stone dwellings. Castoff materials and Debris from the society above, much like the people who lived there. Was it any wonder then, that those who had the least, and were the most vulnerable, those with whom heresy took easiest root?
Huddled survivors had been rounded up, those too slow or injured to avoid the sweep done by the inquisitors. So they stood, huddling in the chill, as the inquisitors 'interviewed' them in a small tent. Every so often they would leave, either tossed out, bloody and bruised onto the cobblestones, or led off towards their headquarters, bound and hooded.
Evangeline feels the bile rise in the back of her throat, as her hand twitches involuntarily towards the satchel of grenades at her waist. Was this what she had come north to defend? This Ishgard, which seems to have only changed for the worse? This bastion of evil that had stolen her brother from her?
White hot flashes of rage speckle her vision, as she surveys the damage of the attack. Yet if the Holy See fell, the Dragons would have their way.
Growling she slams a mailed fist into a block of broken stone, cursing at the uncaring sky, "I will find a way to help end this, damn you." She is not sure who her outburst was aimed at, but it makes her feel a little better. With a groan she stretches, before trotting off towards the mid levels of the city.
There is still one task for her to accomplish.
The Brume was devastated, most of its 'buildings' were wood and scrap, built in the shadow of more proper stone dwellings. Castoff materials and Debris from the society above, much like the people who lived there. Was it any wonder then, that those who had the least, and were the most vulnerable, those with whom heresy took easiest root?
Huddled survivors had been rounded up, those too slow or injured to avoid the sweep done by the inquisitors. So they stood, huddling in the chill, as the inquisitors 'interviewed' them in a small tent. Every so often they would leave, either tossed out, bloody and bruised onto the cobblestones, or led off towards their headquarters, bound and hooded.
Evangeline feels the bile rise in the back of her throat, as her hand twitches involuntarily towards the satchel of grenades at her waist. Was this what she had come north to defend? This Ishgard, which seems to have only changed for the worse? This bastion of evil that had stolen her brother from her?
White hot flashes of rage speckle her vision, as she surveys the damage of the attack. Yet if the Holy See fell, the Dragons would have their way.
Growling she slams a mailed fist into a block of broken stone, cursing at the uncaring sky, "I will find a way to help end this, damn you." She is not sure who her outburst was aimed at, but it makes her feel a little better. With a groan she stretches, before trotting off towards the mid levels of the city.
There is still one task for her to accomplish.
