The imposing and majestic silhouette of Hillburgh Cathedral stood proud against the dark sky of a winter night. Its tall spires inhabited by gargoyles with demonic faces together with the intricate interweaving of arches and vaults seemed to conceal some arcane mysteries.

The side corridors shunned the light and only the torches illuminated the marble statues, silent witnesses of the events that occurr inside.

The crypt, with its pungent odour of incense, was a tangle of tunnels and secret passageways that unfolded beneath the surface.

And in that exact place, between rough stone walls and locked iron doors, ominous whispers could be heard. Whispers attributed by some to the souls of the deadwho had not yet abandoned that place of wood and stone.

This was the allure of Hillburgh Cathedral so revered and feared by the locals.

On that winter night a tall, a sinister figure prowled the corridors of the crypt. It wore a long cape of black velvet, a shadow in the dark, its face hidden by a human skull. From the dark sockets, a couple of black eyes looked impatiently at the door on the west corridor.

Time in the crypt seemed to dilate and the drafts of wind that infiltrated the stone crevices produced an unclean, gruesome sound, capable of moving even the most resolute souls.

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Finally the door opened with a faint sound and another figure, smaller and stockier, approached with uncertain steps.

It too was wrapped in a heavy cloak and had its face covered by a hood. As soon as the newcomer spotted the masked figure it stopped short and bowed deeply in respect.

"Your Excellency," whispered the cloaked figure in the darkness of the crypt.

In a sharp, cold tone, the masked figure held out its hand.

“So, do you have the list with you?” From the tone of its voice it seemed that patience had reached a fever pitch. The other figure trembled reflexively.

"Yes, here it is." The short figure hastened to answer and, rummaging inside the cloak, extracted a crumpled sheet of parchment.

"How many?" asked the masked figure again.

“A dozen” replied the other.

"Well. Everything will proceed as planned. Fear not. The Red Rose thirsts for blood. You may return to your diocese now. Further instructions will be provided in due course."

The two figures took their leave with a brief nod of their head and then embarked on two opposite corridors.