GIDEON
pulled out all your stitches
Walking right past the Notice Board on his way into town, he found a spot where two streets converged, where many people would be passing, and drove his staff into the ground. In the dim late-afternoon light, it made the point. He was enveloped in sunlight just as he was in the truth, in confident righteousness.
One hand on the staff and the other gesturing out (but ready to dart into his pocket for his compass, should he encounter serious resistance), he began to shout, this time his usually smug demeanour taken over with a rage that boiled over into his words.
"Too many times I have heard people say the Ascended are peaceful. That they only wish to live among us, to make a society that provides for both the real Gods and their 'new' Goddess. These are lies. The Ascended want nothing more than to make you all like them. Every last one, filled with their machinery and their fake souls, doomed to remain in the Voice's clutches forever, never to know Mort's Realm - they want others to partake in the same misery." His eyes scanned across those who had stopped to listen as he took a moment to breath.
Continuing, he pulled up his sleeve to show the still healing wound on his arm, the scar not quite yet formed and the edges messy. "This was delivered to me by a powerful one of their rank in the same moment she killed my friend. They come without warning, invisible and silent, then attack. No discussions when they want you dead. No peace when blood is their goal." Touching the slash, his fingers came away with a faint, pinkish layer of blood, which he held out for the crowd to see. "What kind of honest, good people slink around in the night and drink blood? How can you say you are protecting your children, your town, if you are letting these machine monsters run rampant?!"
Hubris is a bitch
