Damian had been summoned by the Arkham's Constable, Brother Caleb Hendershot. It was early in the day but already the sun's warmth had burned off the majority of the fog.  Damian donned his long cloak and black leather gloves, his wide brimmed stove top hat flopped onto his head, he watched as Brother Caleb strode from the Deacon's residence and into the bright sunny day. "Coming Reverend?" He asked, in somewhat of a hurry.<br/><br/>Damian huffed and then without hesitation he strode out into the courtyard, feeling the uncomfortable singe of the sun even through the this layers of wool and leathers. He strode out to the stables and fetch is 'horse', pulling up into a gallop. "Make haste, I have work to do and don't want to be out too long." He commanded and set Caleb into motion.<br/><br/>When they arrived at the Wagner homestead Damian saw that most of the town officials were already present, gathered around Wagner's root cellar. He dismounted and stalked over to the men, inquiring of what had happened. "Grand morning under God gentlemen, What seems to be the issue?"<br/><br/>"Yonder is Brother Alvin Wagner, Widower of the witch we burned last night. He's gone and done himself in, it looks like the 'drink' done 'im in Reverend." Barrister Clementine answered, a decidedly unaffected look upon his face.<br/><br/>"A pity, may god have mercy on his poor misguided soul" Damian replied, adjusting his hat to better filter the light.<br/><br/>"Yes well, Constable Hendershot says he doesn't see any signs of foul play, It simply appears that he was stricken with grief over the death of his wife and set to drinking his entire supply of illegal mead. Sheriff says he's counts atleast nine smashed jugs down there, I can't imagine the state the man must have found himself in after imbibing that many spirits. But it appears that his bladder must have swelled and he must have tried to unbuckle his breeches whilst hurriedly ascending the rough cut stairway and fallen and broken his neck." Barrister Clementine further explained, only a slight smirk arising on his lips.<br/><br/>"And so you desire my services to grant him last rites?" Damian asked a stern cool tone enveloped his voice.<br/><br/>"Yes, it seems he won't need much in the way of a funeral, as he was not well liked as a known 'Peeping Tom'. He has no family now that his wife was convicted of her sacrilegious acts and tried before the Lord...." The Barrister explained, this time though he smirk was more evident.<br/><br/>"Yes I am aware of brother Wagner's shortcomings, As I am aware of yours, Mister Clementine..." Damian's posture stiffened and her dominated the snide little man with his fierce eyes. "...But we should not speak ill of the dead, lest we share their fate, Or do you think I do not know of your sins?" He asked with the intensity of religious condescension.<br/><br/>"No....I only meant ....that is.....My apologies Reverend Vlalash. " Clementine cowered and wiped the smile from his face.<br/><br/>"Well, then you could have skipped the exaggerated detail and saved me the time then, Brother Clementine? And simply stated that you need my services for last rites and left it at that, couldn't you?" Damian pressed further, putting the Barrister in his place.<br/><br/>"Yes Reverend, I apologize again. " He said, now completely submissive. The other town elders standing by murmur amongst themselves and bow their own hatted heads not wanting to attract the Deacon's attention.<br/><br/>"Good I am glad to hear that, I hope to see you all in the church on the sabbath." He finished and walked off toward the dead man he himself had  killed the night before. Damian bent down and made the sign of the cross over the man, he made sure to slightly alter the movements in order to blaspheme the religious maneuver. He bent lower and whispered a false last rites. In truth he thanked the man for being a foolish perverse oaf and making his death so very convenient. He rose and stalked right through the group of shamed elders back toward  his horse.<br/><br/>"I Don't want this sort of incident happening anymore, Imbibing spirits is a sin, and one to be warranted against by the law. Make sure sweeps of local houses are made. Mead or hard spirits are no longer welcome, nor tolerated even in the miniscule, in our community!<span style="font-weight: bold"> Be sure to check all local herbalists, Mercy Jones is well versed in the vegetative ingredients one needs to make spirits, if the people of our community are tempted with ingredients they are more likely subside to making it!</span>" The Deacon declared atop his steed. His big black stallion tore off toward his sanctuary.<br/><br/>The elders grumbled lowly to themselves, none wanting to evoke the preacher's wrath due to his notoriously good ears. Everyone of them had stashes of spirits. Everyone curses the knowledge that they'd have to either smash them or try to hide a few and not drink for the next coming weeks. Either way the solution was unfavorable, as for Brother Wagner they would have arrange for his quick burial, and sell of the property to pay for it. A long hot day stood before them all.<br/><br/><br/>***************<br/><br/>In truth Prudence hadn't slept at all, she'd pretended, and laid in wait. When Sister Jones had finally stopped her knitting and come to bed, she'd only had to wait a matter of about a half an hour before Mercy began to snore lightly. She reached over first and stroke the midsection of Mercy's night gown until she was sure she was asleep.  Soon after Prudence started a more specific movement, targeting her fleshy lump and working slowly as to not wake the woman.<br/><br/>Prudence was on a mission from her Master but the lust her he'd left her with was too much and she couldn't help but lick Sister Mercy and bite at her neck. She'd begun to touch her own self, rubbing and pulsing inside her, she could almost feel him.<br/><br/>Once Mercy let go, she'd squirted onto Prudence's fingers, and all of a sudden Prudence had felt the need to taste the woman's sweet cum. A voice in her head echoed out. She placed her fingers in her mouth and drank in sweet Miss Jones. The act of doing so, coupled with her earlier experience caused her own pussy to convulse. She twitched and contorted, her bladder pissed just a small bit into the bedsheets.<br/><br/>Prudence rose from the bed just before dawn, she didn't bother waking Mercy, instead she strode out into the forest once again. The girl walked for an hour and then collapsed into the bramble. She reached down into the earth and felt around for a  hearty root. Prudence raised the scraggly wooden, mud covered thing and jammed it down into herself. "YEEEES" She cried out and the splinters and muck of worms entered her already abused genitalia.  "YES LIKE THAT!"  She cried out into the dawn hours, far too far from earshot of her home town.