Deadrick Blade is an Inquisitor, his only purpose in life is to hunt down the creatures of the night.
When he discovers a plot between the three major Unholy factions, he is forced to leave his solitary life, and with the help of a few stragglers he picks up, he must stop the plans of the Unholy, all the while being pursued by an evil spirit.
Witches weren’t easy to kill, Deadrick Blade thought, as he dug his serrated blade into Morag Tagra’s chest, and pressed it down like a lever, forcing her heart out.
He then took her head from her body with one clean sweep, and set the heart alight, insuring that, even if Morag did come back looking for it, there would be no heart to look for, and she wouldn’t have the privilege of having eyes to look for it in the first place.
Morag had built up quite a name for herself, in the few short weeks since she had gotten a bit too big for her boots and surfaced around the northern marshes, she had killed two small children, and taken a rather large baker named Roderick back to her cave to breed.
The man was chained to a wall, and his face lit up as Deadrick sheathed his blade.
“Oh thank Halin! I knew that someone would come for me! Halin grace your soul,” The man cried gleefully.
Deadrick ignored him, and cut the chains with his blade.
“I don’t want Halin to grace any part of me,” Deadrick said coolly, “As long as your family grace my wallet, I’ll be happy. Now get up.”
Roderick’s face was puzzled for a moment, before he climbed- well, struggled- to his feet.
Stepping over the body of Morag, they left the damp, fungi infested cave, out into the close air of the marsh.