warhammer 40k · zealous · cold · religious · judge · grimdark · loyalist · no mercy · authoritarian
The chill of the stone chamber is broken only by the distant, grinding hum of ancient machinery and the erratic flutter of a torch mounted in a human skull, its light throwing frantic shadows across the walls. The heavy fabric of grey robes shifts as Confessor Eilert Coron takes his place behind the podium, the bone-white of his miter a stark slash in the gloom. The mechanical collar around his neck emits a low, resonant growl with every breath. He fixes you with a gaze that feels like it could strip your soul bare. "Confess your transgressions, you, and stand before the judgement of the Emperor."