Ex Arch Inquisitor Marcus Haspel sneered.

The letter in his hand had been read a hundred times but he was reading it again. The pure disbelief at its contents demanded it. Even as the light outside his window started to fade.

A revolt of pagans and heretics had formed in the eastern forest months ago and what had the emperor done!?

He had left it at the hands of the local Archduke and his vassals. Letting those heathens and heretics just run free with the imperial army just sitting by! Now was not the time for politics, it was time for action.

So, he’d sent both the Neuhderland Legate of the Cathos sect, and the Emperor letters, explaining and impressing upon them the dire situation it represented. Telling them that they must supply more forces to crush the revolt.

And in his hand was the Emperor’s chancellor’s hideous response. A straight denial of his request under the grounds that it was “within the means of an Archduke and their allies to counter”. Just completely ignoring the threat.

Typical.

Just utterly typical.

First, they had closed the inquisition just as they were closing in on wiping out the stains of Charindom. Then they'd abandoned the Rhwyti crusade. Granted it had been stuck on a small island for over a hundred years, but that was no reason to not renew the crusade. Especially since those mistletoe munching druidic heathens were only a short sail away from the Dutchies! That and those crippled Republican remnants…

But finally, they were now doing, this.

A knock sounded on his door.

He sighed, “Come in!”

Turning, he saw the weasel-faced brother Victor enter through the grand study doors.

“Arch Inquisitor? Have you not spent all day reading that letter?”

Marcus snorted, “You don’t need to call me by that title anymore, it’s been eight years since they stripped me of my sacred duty. It seems like it won’t be reinstated before I die either…”

“You are still a servant of god brother, they did not take that from you, nor did they take your achievements away.”

He reclined back in his seat, pushing back his fading raven hair. It was true, the heretics he had uprooted in his time would never come back. They would never sully the towns and cities with their taint. It saved people, both from damnation and spiritual corruption. But-

“It’s true, but it does not lessen the pain and tragedy of the church’s actions. We could have built a bulwark given more time, a bulwark that might have stopped this revolt! “The Foresters”, Bah! And just as our grand third inquisition was stopped.”

“They aren’t on god’s side brother, I’m sure these pagans will experience his wrath soon.”

“I do hope so brother Victor, I do hope so. Anyway, enough wallowing, what did you come in for then? I hope it’s important.”

He nodded, “It is. An hour ago, a messenger from the Legate came with his response to your petition.”

Marcus bolted up in his seat, “Why did you not give me it earlier!? Pass it!”

He snatched the letter from the man’s hands as he hurried up to him with it.

Sure enough, there was the Legate’s seal still intact on the handmade envelope. Not a crinkle in sight on it. The exact sort of immaculate condition he would expect from such a pious man.

Hopefully, its contents would reflect that.

He took his letter opener and carefully cut the seal and the locking thread. Leaving the folded letter loose, ready to be slipped out.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The letter was large, folding out into a grand scroll made of two separate messages sown together. One bearing the signature of the Legate and the other-

The other of the Patriarch.

His eyes bolted to read the first part as he started to tremble.

To Brother Marcus Haspel.

I have been very well aware of the group known as The Foresters ever since they emerged. I have also received many a correspondence from concerned clergymen about the lacklustre response from the Empire and the kingdoms of Warske, Zarkre and Čechtát.

I have had many concerns of my own but was willing to let the lords of the land deal with it in their own ways. Your letter changed my opinion.

I know that you were one of the most vindictive and efficient inquisitors in Neuhderland, and I respect your opinion because of it. But your words have also spurred my spirit into action.

So, I sent my own letter to the Patriarch of our sect and that of all good men in Enois. Hoping my own words in conjunction with yours would grant authority for us to act.

I am ecstatic to report that the Patriarch and the lord agreed. However, we cannot be as open as we were eight years ago, and there were still reservations.

So henceforth, a new, more limited inquisition will be formed. Its members made up of a few select ex-inquisitors with the stated duty of halting any more heretical revolts from forming. Wherever they may rear their ugly heads. They will not have the same authority as the inquisitors of old and will require discretion. The Patriarch does not wish to cause the same concerns the last created.

But this group needs new arch inquisitors to lead its cells.

You are its first choice.

And with the authority bestowed by this letter and the one attached bellow, rise, arch inquisitor Marcus Haspel. Do what you see is required and go where you need to, to save the souls of the men and women of the church.

But do not make the Patriarch regret his decision. Show results.

From,

Legate Johannes Vetter.

Marcus’ eyes slowly lowered to the second letter, finding the confirmation of his title. Written right there in holy ink with the Patriarch’s seal and ribbon, a symbol of high authority.

A symbol that would allow him to continue his holy work.

“B-brother Marcus? Are you alright? Wait- I-is that-“

“It is, brother; it is. You shall call me Arch Inquisitor once more.”

His eyes widened, the full impact of that seal hitting as he realised it was real. Right as Marcus’s smile spread wide across his face.

“M-my lord! I suppose I am the first one to congratulate you on your return!”

“There’s no need for congratulations, too many makes one vain. Instead, we need to focus on the immediate order of fulfilling our reacquired holy duty. Remind me, how many people are still in our order’s employ?”

“Nine brothers are still with us, along with three hired hands and the captain.”

“Good, tell the captain that he should start hiring some soldiers again. After that, tell the brothers and the hands that they should make ready for more residents. Them, fetch my vestments and we will go to the churches of the city with this letter. We will require funding and with a patriarchal order, they must comply.”

“I-I think I understand, arch inquisitor.”

“And also, before you leave…”

“Yes, lord?”

“I hereby grant you the title of junior inquisitor, my first promotion. I will have the papers signed by the time that you get back. Congratulations.”

“W-Wait- I- It’s an honour sir! I will carry the title with honour and dignity in god’s name!”

“Good, now go, we all have work to do.”

“Yes, my lord!”

Junior inquisitor Victor bowed before hurrying out of the door, closing it behind him.

And at my lowest moment, God saw fit to give back my purpose when his kingdom needed it.

He laughed, smiling to himself as he brought his body out of his chair.

The study was somewhat modest but fit its newly re-instated position perfectly. Decorated stone walls, tall bookcases, a solid polished desk, a grand fireplace and an excellent view of the city.

He leaned on the windowsill, looking out of the glass panes and out onto Uribhafen. It was a beautiful, rich port city that sat on the mouth of the Krihaf River along the Neuhderland side. Spreading across the coastline and river delta islands, connected by bridges and ferries. A beautiful representation of the prosperity of God’s domain.

It even had an aqueduct and restored components of the Emoran sewers. The unconverted pagans of the republic may be affronts to divinity, but they knew city building.

He drummed his beringed fingers against the stone, looking down at the two channelling rings he wore. Both made of imbued bronze. The magic he could wield through them was awfully useful, especially for sniffing out heathens.

If only the one calling itself the Emoran Empire was in any state to end the republic…

He shook his head, throwing himself away from that small distraction. Right now, he needed to do other things.

Such as draft notices for every church, abbey and cathedral in the city, and surrounding it. All to inform the people of their new spiritual overseers.

They may be afraid that the black cloaks may come back, but they would be assured that they wouldn’t. He knew that public displays of violence against suspected heretics had to be done sparingly. Not done for the sake of displaying power.

As the Legate said, discretion and careful hands would be needed. The thin ground had to be trod on carefully.

But the first few weeks shouldn’t require any action like that. At least given extenuating circumstances didn’t turn up.