It had been many years since ComeToTheDarkSideWeHaveCookies had made her oath to the Monastic Order of Nairu. She had made that choice with the intentions of her life being one of prayer, meditation, and servitude to the followers of their goddess. Little could she had imagined that that decision so long ago would rest the fate of this town, no, the World upon her shoulders.
It had been two Weeks since their High Priest had been found dead and the rumors of the Cult of Sekham’s presence had become all but demonstratable fact. Despite her desires for a life of peace; when this news reached their monastery; along with her brethren Storyteller0910, Zeriel, and sachetorte; she had no choice but to do what she could to stop the them.
She had come to the town, fully expecting that she may have to lay her life on the line. With the death of FlyingCowOfDoom, she had returned to the monastery alone fully expecting to be the victim of the Prophet’s foul rituals that night. Unbeknownst to her, as she laid awake into the wee hours of the morning, though she laid awake preparing for her own demise, so too were the other townsmen nocturnally vigilant.
The sun had risen, and she had passed out seemingly only minutes before as the crow of the rooster startled her awake. It was, at first, a pleasant surprise to find herself alive until the moment of realization struck as she had quickly found her way to the village square to discover the slain USCDiver, and the battered and bruised pair of Kyrie Eleison and Queuing.
At first, she dared not distinguish the two; instead, she chose to be diplomatic as she offered each a chance to defend himself and indict the other. It seemed Kyrie Eleison was, by far, the more silver tongued, as he had convinced her that it was Queuing who was the Prophet of Sekham to the point that she was assisting him with the preparations for his dunking. But it was at that moment that an uneasy feeling grew in her belly. How could she let these two, neither of whom she could trust, be the ones to make up her mind? And so, it was at this moment that did what any good monk would do; she prayed and meditated.
It was many tense hours, as she sat in quiet seclusion in the temple’s inner sanctum. Queuing and Kyrie Eleison shared the uneasy glare of a hopeful townsfolk and a devious villain, each only hoping he’d done enough to convince her. But morning became noon, noon became evening, and evening became Night as she finally arose from her solitude.
Then, Kyrie Eleison and Queuing listened in ernest, and then in awe, as she laid out the many careful interactions of Kyrie Eleison with the other Cultists they’d found and executed. And so, she was certain, dead certain, that it was Kyrie Eleison who was, in fact, the Prophet.
He was in shock. Quickly he pleaded with her to put the same effort into remembering all the suspicious deeds of Queuing. Alas, his words for futile, for they fell on deaf ears. For better, or for worse, she had made her mind, and would hear no more of their trickery. Not another moment passed before it was now Queuing who delighted to enshackle Kyrie Eleison, as both he and ComeToTheDarkSideWeHaveCookies led the now morbidly silent Kyrie Eleison up the stairs to the edge of the pool of sacred water. With a smirk on the face of Queuing and an uneasy grimmace on that of the hesitant monk, they stood there for only the briefest moment of reflection. While ComeToTheDarkSideWeHaveCookies worried herself over the weight of the decision she’d just made, Queuing took the initiative and shoved the suspected Prophet over the edge.
