Something is terribly wrong.

As Victorian opened his eyes he found himself standing in a dark room. At first he thought that he was in his chamber, but when the young paladin looked down he found himself dressed in armor, with a shield strapped to his right hand and a sword in his left.

What it this? he wondered as he examined the weapon in his hand. Where am I?

The blade cast a dull reflection in spite of him being surrounded by what could only be described as a dark mist. There was nothing in the way of a light source that he could see. There was no warmth or cold – only the sensation of emptiness surrounding him.

He heard footsteps to his left. Victorian turned his head and saw a shape moving through the dusk not that far away from him. The human form stopped at the edge of the mist, just close enough that the outline could be visible while the finer details remained shrouded.

“Who are you?” Victorian asked. As of yet he was unsure of his circumstances, so the young paladin took up a guard stance. Just in case of an attack.

The cloaked figure raised one hand and waved for him to approach. It held something in the other hand, but the nature of the object was concealed beneath the cloth of its robe.

Victorian cast a quick glance around the room, but sighted nothing else. Faced with no other obvious course of action, he decided to follow the mysterious being.

As the young paladin cautiously advanced the hooded figure matched his pace. It backed away from him all the while still bidding the man to follow.

“Where are we?” Victorian demanded to know.

The hooded figure did not reply. It instead hastened its steps and disappeared into the darkness.

Victorian followed and soon came upon a large door. It was embedded into a stone wall. When Victorian looked around he found that the wall now curved and joined together behind him, forming a round chamber.

He appeared trapped except for the lone door in front of him.

“Where did you go?” he called out to the mysterious being, but received no reply.

Metallic clamor startled Victorian and he snapped around only to find a helmet rolling into view across the cobblestone floor.

As he picked it up, the paladin found the piece of armor to be familiar to him. It carried and engraving of the all seeing eye of the Temple on the forehead – a common icon among the Holy Seven that he served. It was the symbol that the Templar order had chosen for its mark. It was a simplistic carving of an eye surrounded by a triangle with several rays of light reaching outwards from it.

Once more a loud noise grabbed his attention and Victorian turned back around only to find that the door was now open. Against his own will the young paladin was drawn into the doorway without so much as placing a step forward. The world beyond rushed towards him and the doorway quickly flew past leaving nothing but the darkness surrounding him.

Victorian felt a strong urge to dawn the helmet, so he did. Once more it seemed like the decision was not his own, but rather something he felt that he needed to do from memory. It was as if he was playing out a preset range of motions.

“Show me,” a hushed voice commanded him.

He felt his body surge with adrenalin as Victorian realized that the mysterious presence was now standing behind him. He could feel its arm as it held him by the shoulder and whispered in his ear.

It was a woman’s voice and it was cold. “Show me your crimes,” she said and pulled Victorian backwards with irresistible force.

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Victorian witnessed the world around him twist and flash with images that held some semblance to his own experience – his memories. He felt like he was falling as scenes of his own past played out before his eyes in quick succession.

It lasted for a short while until the confusing journey through his memories came to a halt at a particular place in time. The world around Victorian came to life in the shape of blazing fires as they fed upon the run down houses on both sides of the rubble strewn city street. A stone tower was struck by lightning and crumbled away in the distance – soldiers in their dozens screamed in terror as they plummeted to their deaths. Fresh corpses littered the road beneath his feet, both, armed and those of defenseless civilians.

It was the sight of a city under siege. Or, rather, one that had succumbed to it and was now faced with all the horrors that followed.

“Forward, brothers!” a rough voice commander, “Kill the heretics! Kill them all! No mercy!”

Five soldiers ran past Victorian and headed down the street. They were dressed just like him and one of them was carrying a sapphire and gold banner. It had the all seeing eye of the Temple embroidered upon it in lavish detail.

Unsure of how or why he had come to be here, Victorian complied as he had been drilled to do over so many years by the sergeants of the Templar order.

An eager little holy soldier…

As Victorian chased after the banner, he tried his best to make sense of what was going on. Is this a dream? Or was I dreaming before? To Victorian it felt as real as ever. His body, the heaviness of the armor... Then why am I here?

An ethereal voice whispered in his ear, “Kill the heretics!”

“Kill the heretics!” the men before him chanted in unison. His own lips moved to spell out those same words like it was some divine commandment.

As Victorian chased after the banner, he caught glimpse of the mysterious woman standing at the side of the road. He felt strongly that her attention was on him and him alone.

Victorian wanted to stop, he wanted to approach her, but his body denied him. He felt in control only when he complied with his predetermined path. When he sought to stray from his memories his limbs turned weak, his vision began to blur.

Unable to break free of this overriding force, Victorian was left to follow his brothers-in-arms. He went along with his recollection of the events.

A woman’s scream pierced the ever present noise of crackling fire and splintering wood.

“Please, no!” she begged for mercy while trying to escape her pursuers.

The soldiers chased after her.

She turned right into an alleyway, but the Templars were not far behind. As Victorian himself finally turned the corner, he found the five soldiers of the Temple already engaged by a band of city guards inside a courtyard. Not counting Victorian, the Temple troops were outnumbered eight to five, but the parity in their combat prowess was blatantly apparent. In just a few moments since the battle had been joined the militiamen lost two of their number.

The soldiers charged recklessly into the militias’ spears, cutting down the ill-experienced defenders like mongrel dogs.

It was a hectic slaughter.

Victorian kept his distance, observing the familiar scene in silence. He felt his arms and legs go numb as the memory beckoned him to join in to aid his brothers, but the young paladin managed to resist its call to action.

“That is not what happened,” the woman’s voice whispered in his ear.

“Who are you?” Victorian demanded to know. “What is this?”

As he turned around Victorian found the hooded figure standing in the passage behind him.

“Show me what you did,” the woman commanded. “Show me who you are.”

Victorian’s sight went black for a moment. When his vision returned he found himself standing at the edge of the courtyard, watching his fellow soldiers once more charging towards the guardsmen. The same battle was joined for a second time.

He felt a strong desire to join them, and this time he complied. Victorian charged with his shield raised.

There was a thud and a loud scraping noise as a spear was deflected by his shield. Victorian glimpsed the tip of the weapon slide past his torso. The next thing he knew he had collided with the guardsman holding it.

Staggered by the paladin’s charge, the town’s defender stumbled backwards. He struggled with the long shaft of his weapon in a futile attempt at pushing the armor clad Templar away from himself. But the man was forced to drop the weapon as the paladin pried his hand from the spear’s shaft with the edge of his sword.

Victorian pummeled the man in the face with the handle of his sword, breaking his nose. Several strikes later the guardsman had been rendered incapable of resisting and fell down on the ground clutching his ruined face.

The young paladin kicked the man in the chest. The guardsman rolled over onto his back and Victorian drew back his arm to deliver the finishing thrust.

The scene froze. Victorian remained standing victorious over the cowering man, unable to lower his hand or to kill him. Once more his body did not respond to his will.

“Did you take joy in this?” the woman asked.

“I don’t know,” Victorian answered. He gleaned her hooded shape from the corner of his eye.

“What is this?” he asked.

“You know where we are,” the woman replied. “Now, tell me, did you enjoy killing these people?”

“Who are you?” Victorian asked.

“Justice,” the woman replied.

“What do you want?” Victorian asked.

“Justice for you crimes,” the woman replied. “Now, show me more!”