As William neared the brothel, the stench of alcohol was in the air. Drunken laughing and carousing could be heard. Coming to an open window, he heard course laughter, and looking through the window, he was blinded by what he saw. At first, it seemed to be a radiance of sorts, and within were four beautiful goddesses.

One was tall, lounging on a cushion, her lustrous brown hair in a ponytail falling around her. She wore a red outfit that bared shoulders and dipped far down below her breasts in a v. The movement drew attention to their size as she drank from two flagons. Her tongue licked her pouty lips clean of alcohol as she shifted in revelry.

So this was the goddess Maius?

William tried to look away but found he did not have anything to look at. His spirit was no longer under his control, and he found himself looking her up and down. Trying to divert the thoughts, William looked at her expression to devise her intent. Was this the Goddess Maius? Certainly, the way everything seemed to blur in the room beside her told him that much.

The Goddess of Revelry was here? Why could he not look away from her?

Yet she was not focused on him at all. She hadn't the faintest in him but rather something far below.

A little ways off, he saw another, Maius, equal in beauty yet also opposite, but she was clad in a white. It was a clinging blue Naminaen stress of dress with short, baggy sleeves. They narrowed at the end of toned arms. It was emblazoned with the symbols of many golden dragons upon it. Her muscular thighs held fishnet stockings. Her brown hair was tied into two hair buns on either side, but she was not drinking. Rather she was watching and writing notes.

Then there was Imogen, playing solitaire over in the corner. And also a familiar figure, resembling Isriath from the picture. But her harp was to one side, and she was looking at Maius with a smile. He had a vague sense of beautiful blonde women from whom light shone, but he could not get at her. And last, of all, there was darkness to one side.

They were not actually here, but they were transposed over women in this place. William could see Imogen. She seemed to be drinking and watching. What were they doing here, and why?

Trying to find out what they could be looking for, he saw something he couldn't make out in the blur of his eyes. Was it the world? Or a person? Or perhaps the souls of individuals? William tried to interpret it, but his head was spinning.

What they were looking at dawned on him.

Then there were the priests, Cirithil, and his cronies. All of them were very well-dressed and completely drunk. They seemed to be completely unaware of the goddesses mere feet away.

What was going on here?

"Ah, there's nothing like a reward for some sacred work," said Cirithil, tossing the dice.

They were leering at a variety of ordinary women who were keeping up appearances. The Goddesses were gone, and the women here were afraid but keeping up appearances.

"Well, you are infallible, your grace," said Rundas. "We've made more money in the past few weeks than in years. I can't believe these peasants will actually pay extra just to sacrifice to their fake god."

"Well, I'm sure the faithful will always show their appreciation in new ways. Isn't that right, girls," said Cirithil. "Roll the dice."

"Aw, Coinfurth, snake eyes again, High Priest Cirithil!" said a man.

"Well, I'm sure the snake will appreciate it!" said Cirith. "They've plenty of death to deal with as it is!"

"Not at the rate the plague is taking these peasants," said Rundas. "Idiots actually think anyone cares about their animals. They actually got off on us reading the same script they had for everyone."

"Well, our wallets care, Cirithil. They care a lot," said Joffrey. "Snake eyes." Everyone seemed to be agreeing and sucking up to Cirithil.

The odd thing was that all of these were grown, men. Yet all of them seemed to become slowly childlike as the game went on. But not any kind of child that had ever existed. There was a sickening innocence to how they threw the dice. Not of one who did not know better but who had severed their ability to know better.

William wondered if he only imagined it.

Was that why the women had been there?

They'd been playing a game together, but of what kind, William did not know. Who were the players? Certainly not the men around them. They were the coins being shuffled around. What would God take them?

"Snake eyes again!" said Rundas.

"Snake eyes!" said Cirithil.

"Snake eyes!" said Joffrey, loving every moment of it. As though rolling the dice is their sole purpose of existence.

They did not care about the loss in profits.

Looking over, William saw Imogen. Had she been planted there, or was this coincidence? Had she been sent to tempt him in some way? By who?

Did it even matter?

"What is this a sign?" asked Cirithil, scoffing even as he posed the question. But there was a kind of humanity in his voice then.

"Well, a member of House Gabriel has been wandering around like a witless cow in skull armor. Healing everyone from Ascorn to here," said Rundas. "Thinks that just because that worthless deformed mongrel trained him, he's important!"

"What an idiot," said Joffrey. "Wasting his time on those sheep. Does he really think cutting into our business makes him important!

"He's a garden snake!

"Damn it, snake eyes again!" Laughing from all of them, but a seething rage was in William's mind. A desire to murder everyone inside came to him, but he shoved it down.

Could they not see him at the window?

"High Priest... maybe this is a sign," said a woman, one just out of sight. "And perhaps it is not wise to tempt fate-"

"Oh, shut you bitch," said Cirithil, sounding more human than ever. "We don't keep you around for anything but your breasts and money, Ata. Now take off your clothes so we can see, Elranor commands."

William walked to the door.

"High Priest, this is outrageous!" said a man.

"Oh really?" said Cirithil, practically spitting the words. And all his fellow priests leered as one in the speaker's direction. "Well, if Elranor disapproves, Coalmarsh, let Elranor strike me down where I-"

William brought up a leg and kicked the door. It shattered and broke off its hinges, which bent and marked the frame. The splintered were thrown forward as the fragments of the door broke on the matt. Within, the priests screamed like children and fled behind Cirithil. Cirithil was too dumbstruck to move. Coalmarsh, the man she'd been talking to, looked at Cirithil with murderous intent.

"Oh Gods, I didn't mean it!" said Cirithil. The exception was Ata, a blonde woman who was sitting to one side while reading from a holy text. And also a grim-faced priest looking at Cirithil in utter disgust and holding a cudgel. This was Coalmarsh, he guessed.

Did he have to sit through this regularly?

"You look worried, your grace," said William in disgust. "Have I caught you at a bad time?"

Ata stepped up and fled out the door, and Coalmarsh stood up in disgust and walked out. Based on his gait, he had drunk nothing and looked to William. "I don't suppose you're here to murder him?"

"No," said William.

"Better luck next time, I suppose," said Coalmarsh.

And he walked out.

"Get out of here," said Cirithil, pointing to the door.

Much older men were whimpering at his presence. William was almost tempted to go to the gaming table and turn it over. Then he looked at the woman at the door and realized it was their property. He'd shattered it just to make an entrance, and they looked at him with accusation.

William had no time for this. "No, you will follow me.

"Pay these women for the expense and leave them be." And drawing out what coins he had remaining, he gave them to them quickly. "You have work to do."

"In my own good time," snarled Cirithil like a cornered animal.

"The time is now or never," said William.

"I am the High Priest!" said Cirithil. "I could damn you to hell with a thought!"

"That is not in any holy text," said William. "And no, you can't."

"The holy texts can be altered by me at will," said Cirithil. "It is my right! My word is infallible and unquestionable!"

William sighed. "High Priest Cirithil, the Kingdom of Antion is falling apart.

"Plague is spreading across the land; rebellion is nigh. Satyr warbands have killed nobility. Lord Rius is dead, executed by foreigners for crimes against the people. There is an entire house of people dying of plague.

"It would be well if you could at least come and look at them."

"Well, then, why don't you do something about it," said Cirithil. "Stop wasting my time and telling me to do your job for you, knight errant! Get out!"

"You are a priest, invested with holy power by Elranor. All of you are," said William. "I won't be here in a week, but each one of you could save hundreds. And those hundreds would never infect anyone. Your sermons could save souls."

"The church is my property! Mine!" screamed Cirithil, sounding like a spoiled child but still human. "I have the legal right to use it or not use it as I see fit!

"We bought our positions, and we can do what we like with them! Now get out and sing prayers to your sky daddy!? It's all just a bunch of fake tricks anyway!"

What was he talking? Elranor was not associated with the sky. That way Zeya's domain.

Where had all this terminology come from? It was obviously foreign.

Some foreign influence or such?

William tried to be patient. "Once the plague destroys Antion, it will devour you. Any one of you could be infected tomorrow." He paused and looked at the girls as he realized how dangerous their lives were. "Some of you might have been infected right now. So you have to quit this business, or you'll surely be dead soon.

"I've seen the plague out west. And there are plague victims quarantined right near here. Get out of here." A panic came over him. "Take your money and go anywhere else! Now!"

The girls nodded in panic and hurried upstairs. Cirithil looked up. "Hey, I haven't paid you yet! None of us have! Get back here, you sluts, or you'll regret it!

"You'll never be able to pay to have dinner with me!"

William stared. "If you have no regard for your nation, if you have no regard for the people, what about Elranor?"

"What about him?" said Cirithil. "He's a brutal, nonexistent sociopath who commits genocide and abuses women!" Then grabbing some money, he tried to throw it at a prostitute. William caught his hand and sighed. "You can't touch me!

"You can't assault me! I'm the High Priest! I own you!"

"No, you do not; I am not part of your religion, merely your faith, and Elranor owns that," said William.

"Then I'll send you to hell!" screamed Cirithil, drawing a knife in a drunken stupor and trying to stab him. Instead, it broke on William's armor, and he sighed. The knife was cutlery.

So this was the scheming mastermind who had backed Joffrey.

William got his answer when Cirithil's eyes changed.

Stepping back, William could hardly look the man in the face. The sheer malice and hatred in his gaze were answered enough. It pained William to keep his gaze, and there was a vileness there he could hardly stand. And it was in the eyes of all the priests subtly. Their posture changed as he realized they had given their will over to this creature.

But Cirithil had done it willingly. The other's malice seemed to flow into them from him. It was only there a moment, and then the facade returned.

What was this thing?

The demon was deliberately trying to discredit the church. How had it gotten so many utterly depraved people in positions of influence?

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Eating knives are not useful for combat. And how are you taking care of your property?" asked William, feeling as though he were talking to a six-year. Rather than someone nearly twice his age. Only Cirithil should know better. "What will there be left for you if this entire nation falls to pieces because you are not doing your job.

"You are supposed to be guiding and helping the people through troubled times. Or failing that, praying for help. I admit my understanding of the tenets of the Antion branch of Elranor's flock is limited. But I do not think the worship of Maius is part of."

"Who?" said Cirithil. "You mean one of the whores?! I don't worship them!

"They worship me, the filthy bitches!"

"Well, you seem to have more regard for them than your faith," said William in deadpan. The man was obviously drunk. Except, he didn't seem it; his eyes were focused and intent as if examining William's reactions. The other priests had an empty, soulless look, but Cirithil's was alert.

Was he trying to make the church look as disgraceful and loathsome as possible? Why? William could kill all of them right now? Was that the point?

The demon that had possessed Joffrey.

It was using Cirithil, adopting a mask of utter depravity and stupidity. And also to provoke William into murdering these men or taking some action. So even this was advancing the goal. If William killed these men, it would set off a worse chain reaction than anything. "If your god means nothing to you, what of it?

"The people out there care. I care.

"A great many nobles care. And this kind of display ill befits a man of your station. If this continues, there may well come a day, High Priest Cirithil, when your title can no longer protect you."

"And when will that come?" said Joffrey. "When some farm girl becomes Heir of Kings, and House Korlac is something other than a joke? When the Heavens Eye is moved by a plagued Calishan, and Antion sends it to Baltoth?"

This was the real him.

Except it wasn't.

It was as if he'd sat down and thought of all the most contemptible things he could adopt. But why was Cirithil more alert than Rundas or Joffrey? All of these men were the same, actually. You could tell how they were responding to anything without bothering to ask.

It was as if they were slowly merging together into a collective whole of malice and spite. But William had to try and pull them out of it.

"The day may come," admitted William. "Stranger things have happened. And things said in jest can sometimes come true." He let go of Cirithil's hand. "You have the opportunity here to become great. Even if you do not wish to use the power of Elranor, your money, and resources could save many. Do great charitable deeds with them, and provide funding to those who fight the plague. Become involved in politics.

"Use your position, whatever it is, whether small or great, to make a small difference. With enough small differences, the world could be made infinitely better. Endure hardship today, and you may well look fondly on that hardship forevermore."

"My life would be made better if you left," said Coinfurth. "As far as harlots go, I prefer something a bit more vulnerable." No one was ever really this contemptible in real life.

Some of the priests did not laugh quite so loudly, for they saw William's sword. "Have you no consideration for your own soul? You will not live forever, Cirithil.

"If you want to have anything after you die beyond eternity of agony, you must perform service to a deity. Preferably the deity you are the High Priest to, but failing that, any deity. How do you intend to enter any heaven?

"Do you think they will listen to tales of alcohol and rolling dice?"

"Well, I hear Maius is into that kind of thing," said Joffrey.

"And who the hell are you to talk!" said Rundas. "How dare you worship a god that allows infant sacrifice!" Rundas was not faking this; he was drunk and did not seem as advanced in the service of the demon.

"...He doesn't allow infant sacrifice," said William. Had these idiots even paid attention? "How do you measure up to your own standards anyway, Rundas?"

"I am the High Priest!" shrieked Cirithil.

Then snatching up a coin, he hurled it at William, and it bounced off his armor. The others soon began grabbing money and following suit. Even so, something in the air was changing. The demon was obviously being strained, its influence weakening.

"Beware what you are doing, Cirithil. The Goddess of Revelry is not one to invoke lightly," said William, who had done his own research. "She is dangerous as well as joyful.

"For all you know, she might be very annoyed with you for misusing her domain. Even as we speak, she could be planning retribution. Pray for Elranor's protection and forgiveness, and she may let the slight pass. You have done no damage to him and much to yourself."

"Oh, and I guess the virgin goodie two shoes know all about revelry," said Cirithil, laughing. More drunken laughter, and by now, the prostitutes were coming down with a variety of bags. They were packing their things. Obviously, they had done very well in their time. Yet they looked past him toward the temple. William doubted they were even aware of the demons. He guessed that his status as a Paladin was what made him able to perceive it.

William stared at these sad shells of men and tried to come up with something to reach them. To spark a flame in the embers of what they were. Perhaps just appeal to their sense of hedonism.

"Look...

"Just leave this place. Whatever joy you could have had from it is spent. Walk beneath the sun and think of something other than your stomach.

"If you want to serve the Goddess of Revelry, then think of how you may best do so?"

"Our relationship is s a series of disconnected encounters," said Cirithil. "I don't owe her anything-"

"Not if you were the last man in Erian," said a prostitute. And she threw a tankard in his face and stalked past toward the temple. She was Maius no longer and was only an ordinary person as she did. "Find me a priest."

And the others did the same and walked out. Cirithil almost seemed affected by this and gained a bit of lucidity. The alcohol dripped off him, but his eyes darkened. "You bitch!

"Traitors! I'll cut all your heads off and hang you for heresy! I am the High Priest!"

"You didn't even know her name five minutes ago," said William. It was almost admirable how dedicated he was to deface his own religion.

Almost.

"Wait, look, I know you're not really here..." Cirithil halted. How could anyone be this detached and stupid? Even if he was drunk, this was shameful. "Damn it.

"Well, you just scared off one of my dates, all of them. Come back! I paid you a fortune!"

"Sir Gabriel, where can we find holy orders?" asked the prostitute.

"The Temple might be a good start," said William. "You could also try Coalmarsh, he walked out very early, and I don't think he drank anything."

"Or you might try outside the temple. They are sacrificing animals to purify their sins under Grace Atravain."

"Thank you," said another woman. "You're a good sort."

William waited until they were gone before turning to the priests, who looked to now have a hangover. They were waking up in the middle of a brothel that had only them in it and a lot of tapestries. "High Priest Cirithil, the prostitutes have left you to seek the gods.

"Will you not at least ask why?"

"Go to hell!" said Cirithil. The demon seemed to have receded somewhat in these men.

They were drunken, depraved monsters who cared nothing for their responsibilities.

And the rest of the priests turned up their noses. And slowly but surely, the light of humanity that had briefly been kindled vanished. The twisted remnant of who they had been retreated back into themselves and was subsumed. All that was left were soulless things.

But William knew Elranor would have him try again. "Will none of you ask why? Will you not consider that some action you have taken was in error? Or unwise? Or that some part of your infallible will was perhaps misinterpreted?

"You have a chance to heal the ills of the land?

"If you wait until the day of reckoning, it will be too late. Just... just leave this place. Or failing that, just put down your scepter. Set it down and leave it so that it will no longer have any power over you. You no doubt can buy another, and there is no reason to keep it-"

"We're staying here!!" screamed Cirithil, voice pained with the yell.

He probably didn't even know where 'here' was. The demon was winning out, not for lack of power but for lack of resistance.

"And what of you priests?" asked William. "There are twelve of you. Will you not leave and do as you are ordained by the Gods? What pleasure remains in this place for you?"

For a moment, they considered it. A few nearly moved, though Rundas stayed silent, and his gaze looked to the door.

"If you leave, I'll see you hang," said Cirithil, turning and pointing at them. His eyes were wild in terror. "I can do it.

"One word from me, and I'll watch you hang from the gallows without a trial. I've got friends."

And instantly, they shut down. The mere possibility of having to take a risk for salvation was too much. They were cowards to the end.

Wiliam sighed. "Is such a man your friend?

"If he will hang you for walking in the sunlight, what loyalty and protection can you expect from him? Would it not be better to seek political allies? Others who would not betray you? Not me, obviously, but anyone.

"Anywhere other than this decadent and loathsome place."

But not one of them moved, and they dared not gaze at him. Then, slowly but surely, the demon was returning to their eyes.

Each of them had become so corrupted by vice that they would not even depart a brothel to please the gods. So William kneeled down and picked up the coins they'd thrown at his feet. He actually really needed the money; they'd had a lot more expenses than expected.

Perhaps he should say something?

No.

Whatever horror had possessed these men now had them in its grip perfectly. And William wondered if it was the vilest thing he had ever seen. Melchious was much more terrifying and dangerous, but he was creative. Arraxia was an amusing conversation and lived up to her word. Baltoth crucified people, but he had many virtues and was consistent. Tavish was a slaving thief, but he did help some people simultaneously. Then there was Lamech, who was brave and inventive?

Yes, he was.

This was the dark lord of their era. A drunken, cowardly whoremonger who knew nothing and thought he knew everything. A man with no power who thought he was all-powerful. Worst of all, he seemed to have willingly and knowingly become this.

And for what?

He'd already had the luxury and could have whatever he wanted? What was the price he'd been offered?

Should he kill him?

What was the point?

Cirithil was doing a very good job of killing himself. In a few decades, he'd drink himself into oblivion if he wasn't kicked out of every brothel in the country. Assuming he wasn't executed first.

"A Blackguard is getting into heaven ahead of you, Cirithil," said William.

"You'd better hope we never meet in Antion!" said Cirithil, voice a croak as his face twisted and spasmed.

William put the coins into his pack, wishing he had a purse. "I assure you.

"We won't."

And he walked back, feeling bitter and sad. The sacrifices were being made, and perhaps it would help. Behind him, Cirithil and his people rushed out. They ran into their carriages to be taken away to whatever hell would take them. Though at this point, one could hardly give them a worse one than what they had done already.

"Are the sacrifices nearly done?" asked William of Grace.

"Yes, they are," said Grace. "Janice has all the firewood and is about to light it. But some people insist on going to the temple. We've been buying their animals at a reasonable price."

"How?" asked William.

"Well, I convinced the merchant who was buying them to work for me," said Grace. "Now he is buying them on behalf for a reasonable price. Not a perfect solution, but still better."

William shook his head. There was one more thing that had to be done. "Not good enough." And he turned to the guard. "Alchives, I will pray as you allow."

And walking forward up the steps, he entered that same shrine. But the floor was of marble, and it was beautiful, with stained-glass windows that caught the light. Intricate signs were everywhere.

Yet the smell took away from it.

There were pens of animals on the temple floor, fouling it by their nature. Finely dressed merchants hawked at people trying to pray. Money was counted on the floor and on tables. Alcohol was being drunk and even sold!

"Get your cows! Get your cows!" shouted someone at him.

"Chickens over here!" said another, not to be outdone.

"Doves!" said another. "Doves for peace!"

Enough was enough. They might as well have tried to fleece Elranor in his own home. Yet William mastered himself. William Gabriel moved forward to the altar and tried to prey. Yet the noise was everywhere, and he could not focus.

"You need a sacrifice, Sir Knight, to get what you want," said a man. "Try one of my doves."

"No, a chicken would be smiled on more," said another.

Finally, William had enough. No one here could pray, he could tell by their distraction, and no one could sacrifice. There was not a single part of this shrine to the gods untrained. Gripping one of the tables, he threw it down, scattering it over the floor. As he did, it shattered, and everyone in the temple began to grope and grab coins. Merchants screamed at the loss of their precious money, and the cows moaned. Turning over another, he shoved a person back as they tried to stop him.

"Out!" roared William, throwing open the pavilion where the cows were. "All of you out of this sacred place! Out!" And snatching up a rope from the pen, he lashed it at them, driving them out of doors. And when it was cleared, he threw aside the rope to look at the filthy straw covered in muck.

There was a low snarling in the air from Diabolus.

William broke the cage doors for the doves, and they flew out in great numbers. They went out the doors as William tore open the cow enclosure. They lumbered out as a hateful presence seemed to manifest and tear at his mind. Then he tore open the chicken enclosure and let them all flee outward.

From there, he turned to the altar and walked to the altar. There he kneeled and began to pray. The stink was still present, but the noise was gone.

Coming out into the light, he saw Grace, Janice, and Jaina staring at him. Alchives looked on in rage but looked back to Massacre.

"What did you do?!" said Janice.

"Forced the merchants out of the temple," said William. "Bring me to the sick and injured." Then he looked at the people. "Cleanse this place. Clean the temple and get rid of the merchant stands."

Dead silence.

"A miracle!" said Ata. "A miracle!

"The plague house has been healed by our sacrifices! Lady Grace has saved us!"

William sighed despondantly and shook her head.

"Do you know how much money you have lost these merchants?!" said Alchives, and they were gathering behind. "Is this how House Gabriel treats their allies?"

"Did you ever treat me as such?" asked William. "Did you ever treat Raynald as such? Did you ever treat Elranor as such?! Are you standing on the old alliances when you treated the gods with contempt a moment ago?"

"I am performing a legitimate service for the church," said Alchives. "And you are destroying property?!"

"You are turning the domain of Elranor into a den of thieves!" roared William. "The church has nothing to do with religion! Just who the hell do you people think you are?!"

His scream echoed and echoed throughout the land, and William realized he'd been heard.

Alchives looked at a loss for words. "I'll remember this."

"I don't care if you do," said William. "Either the church is sacred or nothing is sacred. If you're concerned about these merchants, you could help them retrieve their animals."

"I will," said Alchives. "You men, we're going to gather those up. There's no point in letting those people be bankrupted for this brat."

"Some of you help them," said Grace. "We don't want anyone to go bankrupt over this."

And he moved off, and the lost cows were gathered up. Alchives was careful to check which one belonged to which. He was quite meticulous, and the merchants seemed to appreciate it. William did not actually mind. Now that the beasts were out of the temple and it was being cleaned of their filth. He did not begrudge them prosperity.

Yet they shot him dark glances.

Well, he was not afraid of them in this or any company.

Later they met up with Jaherus, Felix, and Massacre at the border into House Gabriel. Felix was leaning against a tree, hair falling around his shoulders. Jaina, Grace, and Janice seemed to recite some rituals together. "How did things go."

"Well, I exorcised the High Priest from the temple," said William sadly. "Purified the unholy influence of the church. Meanwhile, Janice, Jaina Grace served Elranor by abandoning his sacred traditions. I am sick of Antion."

"Try working here for forty years," said Jehair in bitter amusement.

"You've been here that long?" asked Felix.

"No, longer," said Jehair. "But elves' minds go in cycles; we gradually reincarnate in one body, so we shift to take on a new persona. It's why a romance between mortals and us can work."

"Ah, of course," said William.

The conversation fell by the wayside as they continued.

Later on down the road, they were met by a large band of thugs sent by the High Priest to arrest them. Massacre ate them all.

Was it too much to ask for a bit of respect?

There the further he went, the more a mass hanging seemed appropriate. It was a very bleak thought which put him in an even worse mood. Because most of those priests were likely nobles, who bought their position.

And they probably had friends and influence.

So, his problems were only just starting.