@katraya:
She read him perfectly. Remarking about his stiff visage upon settling. "As well I should be. Just north of here, there was a church burning down and there were these men. I got close enough to hear them chant Blood for the Blood God. If there is a cult around here devoted to him, then I believe that is the only logical place to find your assailant."
Really, I was surprised that she didn't feel that amount of vitriolic energy from miles away. "I'd be willing to bet, it's some wacko who got power hungry and stumbled onto some occult reading material, got his buddies to follow him and do dumb sh!t" It wouldn't be the first and last time some regular guy who had no business fiddling with the affairs of supernatural being tried to make himself more than just a regular guy. The delusions of grandeur, however great, however despicably based were always just the result of ones self worth, or lack there of.
"Lets go, shall we" I take Katraya by the hand and jet off, arriving shortly after the seen was dwindling down. It was all to apparent who this bumbling group of delinquents was. I whispered "midlife crisis much". He was a middle aged man, possibly early forties. Salt and pepper hair, with a seventies inspired haircut and full mustache. He looked full of himself. "I think they need to know exactly what being a disciple of a god really means."
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