<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family:Open Sans">The priest they'd brought along with them was one of the more quiet, somber ones. Gentle enough, he was soothing in his own way, but he didn't socialize with the group of hunters as they traveled through the towns. The rowdier group of men had suggested that he might take a cup of wine with them, but even outside of the church, Arsène was a devout man. He didn't care to deviate from his path, regardless if he was out of sight of God like some men seemed to believe. It didn't stop them from speaking freely of their priest before Arsène, one who was apparently driven to madness, or taken by a demon himself.<br/>
<br/>
“If you let one sin in, it leaves you susceptible to others,” Arsène had said, but he wasn't passing judgment. The men had not taken vows, and they were entitled to their habits for their service to Laitia.<br/>
<br/>
Arsène Gervais usually worked from the church in Phara, blessing and consoling those souls marked for execution, why trying to purge others of more forgivable sins. The hunters had to bring a seasoned priest along with them. Being near those afflicted put one at risk, and the hunters were not capable of warding themselves against demons, no matter how much armor they wore. Arsène wore nothing more than a modest white robe that indicated his holiness and connection to god. He was a man of average height and build, with a defined chin and sharp, serious gray-blue eyes. He had given himself to the church at the age of fifteen, purged himself of his sin, and committed his life fully. He was thirty-four now, and a trusted follower of Yannic teachings. He made it so those traveling men could rest easy at night, and so that they didn't have to constantly listen to the prisoner's wail.<br/>
<br/>
Arsène was asked to come forward, and to address the prisoners. If all went well, he would calm them enough that forcibly moving them wouldn't be necessary. From what he'd heard, things did not always go smoothly, but he stepped forward like a man who'd been traveling from city to city for years. It would be no different than what he did for them at home, though he realized by the time he got to them they were usually resigned to their fate. Still, he would do for them what all he could. Sinners had no place in their society, and if left, they would fester and spread like the worst kind of sickness.<br/>
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“Sinners and afflicted that you are, god has asked that I might take you by the hand to lead you back to his holy dominion. Take solace in knowing that yours souls will not be lost,” Arsène told them. “You will be treated fairly, and I will be here for each of you. If any of you wish to join me in a prayer, please do so now.”<br/>
<br/>
Arsène outstretched his hand, and knelt to touch his palm to the ground beneath him, long elegant fingers clutching his rosary in the other hand.<br/>
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“Para animas suas ferat pacifice,” he spoke in the old dialect of the gods before stepping up, and motioning for the other men to finish with their job, and escourt the prisoners where they could be contained.<br/>
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“I want to meet with each one individually when we return to camp, and I'd like to be made aware of the severity of each of their sins, so that I might be able to take precautionary measure,” Arsène explained. Usually, in Phara someone had already done this for him. He'd sit down and have a meeting each time sinners were brought in for holding, as well as extensive notes to reference. He realized the danger in the unknown, but he had faith that if he served his path righteously, god would protect him.<br/>
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Still, usually they didn't see children often in the capital city. He hadn't made the connection as to why until thinking about it then. Not all sinners made it to Phara, but of course most didn't enjoy seeing a child executed anymore than he did. She balked the second one of the larger, armored men came towards her, and Arsène held his hand up to stop his advance.<br/>
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“Come, my child,” Arsène told her, holding out his hand. He did not want her, or any of the others to be afraid. In exchange for their death, there would be forgiveness. “Are you hungry?” He pulled a gentle wrapped piece of <i>amande </i>bread out of his pocket, which really was more like a cracker than anything, composed of ground nuts, dried fruit, stale bread, and honey. He broke off a piece to share with her, a holy food that Arsène enjoyed for it's simplicity. Once it was clear he would be able to lead her back to their camp, the rest of the legion started moving again, perfectly organized as it exited the humble city of Oralie.<br/>
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Arsène turned to look at his other charges, reflecting on their behavior and trying to anticipate the challenges they might face along their short journey together.<br/>
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