The Inquisition Chronicles

Introduction

The following is a collection of missions undertaken by Agents of the Inquisition to purge followers of Daimondom in the glory of the Veiled Goddess. Their stories serve as a reminder to the faithful: heresy, in all its forms, will never be abided by, and shall be rooted out with extreme prejudice.

The Inquisition serves as the Judicial Branch of the Sacred Obia'Syela, tasked by the Oracle and lead by the Grand Inquisitor to police the lands for any activities of heresy.

These are their stories.

Law & Order sound

Inquisitor Adolphus

Orders from Jessica Gildre

Official Documentation of the Offices of the Grand Inquisitor The Offices of the Grand Inquisitor Jessica Gildre charges Inquisitor Adolphus with the investigation of possible necromancy in the vicinity of Avengmil and Ardmore. Inquisitor Adolphus, report your findings to the Inquisition upon completion. "There is no such thing as innocence, only degrees of guilt." Official Documentation of the Offices of the Grand Inquisitor

Jessica Gildre

Roleplay from Adolphus Schwarzherzig

Adolphus raised an eyebrow as cartloads of corpses were dumped in his camp. Apparently, the Grand Templar's men had hoped to test his fortitude with the most disgusting, rotted, bloated bits of flesh they could find. He smiled grimly. It would take a lot more than that to make him squeamish. His cursed bloodline had seen worse than this, caused worse than this, and he'd be damned if a little rot got to him. "Strip them, take note of physical characteristics, and any anomalies. I am going to ensure no more shenanigans occur. I will have answers." Adolphus said, his tone detached, and he came to a sudden stop. "Funny. Several of them bear the coat of arms of Caelint upon their gear and clothing. I wonder what else we'll find."

Adolphus Schwarzherzig

Roleplay from Adolphus Schwarzherzig

"Finally..." Adolphus muttered. A simple formality, assuming command of an investigation, and met with fierce resistance. Couldn't they just understand all he wanted to do was his damned job? "Templars, and their touchy pride." he mumbled under his breath. He didn't care about any of that, he just wanted to be an effective instrument. He stalked the battlefield, organizing men and carts, as the wights were stripped of their gear, and the bodies examined before being carted off to be burnt. He made a beeline to where the Grand Templar's men had been, and noticed with a tinge of disgust, some of the dead had been burnt before examination. The fires were guttering out, and he poked one of his swords through the ashes, and dragged it back out. "By Obeah..." he gasped. "Get 6 men, all of the Inquisiton. Bring them here, now!" he barked at his scribe.

Adolphus Schwarzherzig

Roleplay from Adolphus Schwarzherzig

"S**t." Adolphus breathed, upon seeing the nigh endless ranks of the dead arrayed before the palisades. He stepped forward, to take his place among his men, drawing one of two swords upon his back. A brilliant blade of blessed silver, all the better to send the dead back to their graves. "Purge the unclean. Die a good death." Adolphus said calmly, as the dead breached the palisades. The ensuing melee was chaos. The bit of steel upon gobbets of rotten flesh, the screams of men drug down by the hordes, and the terrible sound of men being ripped apart. Adolphus fought, and kicked, and spat. He whirled about, and his blade flashing in a brilliant arc, taking the head off a particularly bloated corpse. He went to step forward and put down his next next foe, but felt something grab his ankle. His eyes went wide, and he gasped. "By Obeah, not like this..." He whispered, and was abruptly pulled to the ground. His sword fell out of his hand, and he took to kicking and biting and shouting. He felt himself dragged along, and after a few moments he realized that he was not being torn asunder, but instead carried off. He struggled until he could struggle no more, but to no avail. Darkness took him, and when he awoke he found himself in the confines of a cell, completely intact. He had not even been relieved of his remaining sword. Adolphus paced his cell, examining every inch of it for weakness. He found none. He made his way to the door, and stared out the bars. Two banners hung in the hallway outside of his cell. One depicted a skull beside a crescent moon. "Angmar..." Adolphus growled. The other was the unmistakable shield of Caelint. The day drug on, and he could hear activity from near his cell. Men, and women being thrown in cells, some being drug out. The ones that were taken from their cells, he did not know what became of them, but soon after they were taken, screams would echo the halls. He lingered, for days, with no food. No water. He kept his sword at his side, at all times, waiting for his chance. It came. A man came, and after a whispered exchange, Adolphus handed him some gold. "They will come for you soon. I will leave the inner and outer doors unlocked. From there it is up to you, Inquisitor." Adolphus nodded, and readied himself. He pried a rock from the floor, and waited, sword in one hand, the rock in the other. Hours dragged on, and suddenly he heard the rattle of a key in the lock. The door creaked open, and Adolphus lept, smashing the rock into the face of the man on the other side, his sword thrust into the eye socket of a wight. "Not today, bastard." He growled, and leapt to his feet. Please Obeah, let these doors be unlocked. Let this stranger be true to his word. He prayed as he ran, and smashed into the door. It crashed open, and Adolphus shouted with glee. He sprinted down the next hallway, and his sword scythed out, laying open the throat of a guard, and soon he was at the next door, and he threw his shoulder at it... Only to recoil in pain as lightning arced down his arm, to his shoulder. Bastard! Adolphus thought to himself, the cries of the guards and the thundering of their footsteps echoing not far behind him. He looked about, and noticed a window. It was narrow, but it lead outside. He darted towards it, threw his sword out of it, and them himself at it next. He became stuck, and squirmed. He felt hands on his leg, and he kicked with the other, pulled and strained, and was free! Freedom was not all it was cracked up to be, as he fell a good ways, landing upon his sword, luckily overly suffering a few bruised ribs and a nasty cut. He stumbled to his feet, grabbed and his sword, and staggered away from the tower as quickly as possible. He knew not where he was, but he'd be damned if anything stopped him now.

Adolphus Schwarzherzig