Hearing her superiors warning at the great door of the convent, Sister Karress holstered her bolt pistols at the front of her waist and drew her meter long, broad gleaming power sword and her most sacred inferno pistol. Gripping the holy weapons firmly as she stepped through the giant in-scripted archway of the door, her black armored boots loudly clacking against the stonework floor amid the silent, dim, vaulted room.<br/><br/>Her head quickly glancing from left to right, her good eye scans for movement as she stops a few steps into the large room. Her heart sinks in sorrow at the shadowy sight of the embattled Empirical alter and with a low, viscous building roar she takes two running leap-like steps and brandishes the humming, softly glowing power sword above her head deftly as she quickly double taps her jump packs thrusters.<br/><br/>Odd shadows dance around the sculpted walls from the quick  illumination of  twin blasts of jet as the pack propels her across the dark, disheveled room, she tries to come to rest behind the makeshift barricade of splintered pews as her voice turn from low, mournful groans to blessing of he who resides within the golden throne...