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Cult of the Bat by family_staralternate_emailHamBatz

posted last year, edited last year

Development of a COTL persona

cotl cultofthelamb thelamb

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A Sheep in Wolf's Clothing (Lambert Wolf TF)The Red Crown bobbed up and down on Lambert’s head anxiously. “I know I know!” Lambert shouted as they finished combing down the wool on the sides of their head. It was 20 minutes until the Evening Sermon for the Cult, and Lambert had been so caught up in work they had failed to notice the time passing by. Now they had to rush getting ready and had just finished their shower. Meanwhile, the Red Crown was looking back and forth nervously, mirroring Lambert’s anxiety. As they walked out of the bathroom into their bedroom with their towel draped around their chest, Lambert found the robe that Narinder had left out for them. He was going to be occupied with re-educating some Dissenters to attend the Sermon, so Lambert was going to be preaching by themself. Lambert picked up the robe that he had left from off the bed and smiled. It was one of their favorites, sewn long ago using the finest cotton by Narinder himself as a birthday present. The brilliant robe was a mix of white and red, with a large slit skirt marked with symbols of the Cult on the front piece, an elegant long-sleeved top with a red ribbon bow and two frilly white sleeves, and two long red satin fingerless gloves. Lambert took off their towel before grabbing and putting on a pair of white cotton pants, making sure to stick their tail through the hole on the back. They then opened up a drawer to the left of their bed and pulled out two ankle guards made of cloth and decorated with small gold bells. They sat down on the edge of their bed and pulled both of the guards over their hooves, which made light jingling noises as they moved. Once they were snug, Lambert stood up and put on the satin gloves then gently pulled the Red Crown off of their head. They set the Red Crown on the bed and grabbed their robe before sliding it over their body and head. With a pop, Lambert’s head stuck through the neck hole and they pushed their arms through the sleeves. Lambert walked over to a cabinet and opened it up to grab a red sash, which they tied in a knot around their waist to secure the robe. Lambert picked up the Red Crown once more and placed it between their horns. Lambert walked up to the mirror and looked over their outfit. “Perfect. What do you think?” Lambert said to the Crown. It closed its eye and nodded in response. Lambert laughed. “I’m glad you like it. Now for the finishing touch.” Lambert headed out into the living room of their quarters and opened the closet by the front door. Inside were the various fleeces they had gathered through the years, but Lambert went with the class Red and Black Fleece they had been given when they first became a Vessel for the Red Crown. They undid the collar with its bright golden bell and hooked it around their neck while letting the fleece fan out. Lambert checked the time and saw they had 17 minutes until the Sermon was supposed to begin, so they figured they’d relax for a moment before they had to get back to work. They walked up to their bookshelf by the window and began pursuing the offerings. There were books about botany and farming (a Holy Day gift from Leshy), several tomes on interrogation and coercion tactics (Narinder’s personal favorites), a few journals Lambert had written through the years (the oldest one was nearly 400 years old by this point), but Lambert’s eyes settled on a dusty book marked with a ram’s skull on the spine. Lambert gently grabbed the book and pulled it off the shelf. They looked down at the cover and sighed. The book was one of their few possessions before they had become a Vessel, when they were still Lambert of the Suffolk. It had been a birthday present from their father and was a collection of traditional stories passed down through the generations of sheepfolk before they were purged by the Old Faith. Lambert winced from the memory, but they sat down with the book and opened to a random story. Luckily, the book happened to land on one of Lambert’s favorites, “The Sheep Who Wouldn’t be Prey” Long ago, many sheep lived together in harmony in a great field, where food and water were plentiful and the sunbathed their wool in warm rays of gold. The field was surrounded by a dark and dangerous forest, filled with predators and dangers alike, so the young sheep were forbidden from venturing beyond the field. They had no need to anyhow, as everything they needed was right where they were. That was, until one long winter came, and the sun was swallowed up by billowing grey clouds. Snow poured down from the heavens as the sheep huddled together for warmth, but the cold caused the plants to wither and the water to freeze. Soon, the sheep began to starve, and the strongest and bravest of them volunteered to search the woods for food and water. While many returned bearing gifts for the flock, many others disappeared without a trace or were found mangled and mauled by wolves. The sheep’s numbers dwindled as the long winter continued, and soon they had lost nearly half of their flock. One fateful day, a young sheep wandered into the woods on his own volition to find food for his weak mother. He had little luck finding anything in the brambles and thickets, as it had all been picked clean by the birds and deer. A dead wolf laid on the ground before him, his fur soaked with snow and ice. The lamb saw this grisly scene and came up with an idea. He crawled underneath the body of the wolf and propped it up on his back, making it look as though he and the wolf were one and the same. He walked over to the den of a deer and crouched down in the snow while keeping his distance, to make sure he couldn’t be seen. A deer walked out of the den and was startled by the “wolf” standing before her. “Oh vicious wolf. What does thou desire from me?” the deer said. The lamb spoke in a deep voice from under the body. “I would desire your flesh to fill my belly, but I will instead offer you a chance to live. Grant me a portion of your store of food, and I will let you live.” the lamb said. The deer nodded and went into the den before bringing out assorted berries and fruits. She set the meal in front of the wolf and retreated to her den while the lamb crawled out from the body and grabbed the food before storing it inside their thick wool. They then picked up the wolf’s body and continued on. The lamb repeated this trickery several times after with birds, mooses, bears, and other forest critters, gathering a store of food that was enough for both him and his mother. With his wool packed full of food, he began making his way back to the field, but that was when he ran into a pack of hungry wolves. They spotted him crawling through the snow with the wolf body on top of him and mistook him for one of their own. “Hark fellow Wolf!” called the leader of the pack. The lamb turned the body to face them, making sure to stay out of sight so as to not be devoured. “We go in search of food elsewhere, as the prey have all gone into hiding during this cold day. Would you care to join us?” the leader called to the lamb. The lamb considered turning down their offer, but he realized they might grow suspicious of him if they were to, so he instead nodded the wolf’s head. “Yes. I will join you.” he said, to which the other wolves cheered. He followed the pack while making sure to keep his distance so as to not be found out. The pack walked through the thick forest as the sun set and the snow continued to pour down. Soon, the pack smelled something in the distance that seemed to excite them, causing them to run ahead. The lamb struggled to keep up as the wolf’s body was heavy, but soon he ran into a clearing and realized what had happened. The smell the wolves had picked up was the field the sheep had lived on. They pounced on the sheepfolk and took them by surprise as the lamb could do little but watch. He ran into the group to try and dissuade the wolves from eating the sheep, but at that moment the lamb saw his mother bleating in pain as a wolf bit down into her leg. In that moment, the young lamb’s sadness turned into rage as they pounced on the wolf attacking his mother and bit into their neck with his thick teeth. The wolf howled in pain as the lamb pulled out a chunk of flesh and spat it out. The other wolves turned to look at the lamb and attacked, but the lamb was quick and easily dodged the wolves while pouncing on them whenever he got the chance. As a result of the cold and the fruit in his wool getting crushed, the body of the wolf was now stuck to his back, and the darkness made it appear that the lamb and the wolf were truly one and the same, causing confusion among the pack. They were cut down one by one by the furious lamb, until soon none of them remained. The young lamb, covered in blood and teeth dripping with flesh, turned to face the remaining sheep and saw the horror and terror in their eyes as he faced them. He tried to approach his mother and called out to her, but she backed away in fear along with the others. The lamb understood. He was no longer a peaceful sheep, but a vicious wolf, and had no place among his family any more. He lowered his head so that the head of the wolf hung in its place and walked away, leaving behind the food he had brought. Before he crossed the tree line, he gave one last look at his people and smiled, pledging to protect them even if they did not know he was there, to make sure his sacrifice was not in vain. So it is, he disappeared into the woods and the sheep never saw him again. THE END Lambert closed the book and felt the tears in their eyes. They rubbed them away as they set the book down on the table and stood up to go to the bathroom. They stumbled up to the sink and turned it on to splash water on their face. Once they had managed to soak it, they turned off the water and looked into the mirror before sobbing quietly. That story had been their favorite, but now all it did was remind Lambert of who they are now. They aren’t an innocent sheep, farming crops with their family or reading stories to their younger siblings. They were the God of Life and Death and leader of a cult, with hundreds of thousands of people looking up to them as their savior. They had spilled the blood of countless heretics and followers alike and cursed their body through dark rituals. They weren't a sheep anymore. They’re just a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Lambert of the Suffolk died with their family on that fateful day. Lambert’s spiral was interrupted by a knocking at the door. They quickly dried their eyes and cleaned up their face as the Crown looked concerned. “Coming!” they said in their best cheery voice. They opened the front door and were surprised to see Leshy there. He was dressed in his ceremonial robes with beautiful Camellia Flower decorations along his cloak, white flowers blooming in a crown on top of his head, and his eyepatch over his left eye freshly cleaned and decorated with a cult symbol. His bright brown eye shined as he saw Lambert open the door. “Hello Lambert!” he said gleefully. Lambert couldn’t help but smile. The former Bishop of Chaos, once feared for his vicious demeanor and cruel dictatorship, turned out to be a child at heart with a boundless well of energy once he got used to the cult. “I came to check up on you before the sermon. I just wanted to see if you could fit a Rite of the Harvest into tonight’s service.” he added. “We’re running a bit low on some Camellia and Beetroot, and I know Holy Day is going to be arriving soon.” “Holy Day…” Lambert said somewhat absentmindedly. The anniversary of the day Lambert was crowned. It was to be a big one, being the 375th Anniversary coming up soon. Leshy could tell something was wrong as Lambert regained their focus. “Oh! Of course we can add that to the schedule.” they said cheerfully (which Leshy could tell was somewhat forced). “Would you like to come in?” Lambert asked to save face. Leshy nodded and came inside before closing the door behind him. When he turned around, Lambert was pacing back and forth and rubbing their hands nervously. When they realized Leshy was staring at them, they abruptly stopped, turned, and smiled. “Is everything ready for the Sermon?” Lambert asked quickly. Leshy nodded slowly while narrowing his eye. “Are you okay? You’re acting kind of… strange.” he said. “What? I’m fine. Just nervous about the Sermon. Lots of people there.” Lambert said before laughing nervously. Leshy wasn’t buying it and he crossed his arms while frowning. Lambert saw the jig was up and sighed. “Right.” they said before sitting down on the couch nearby. Leshy walked over and sat down next to them. “Leshy, what was your Crowning like?” Lambert asked, which caught Leshy off guard. Leshy had been serving Lambert as the Minister of Resources for hundreds of years, yet not once had Lambert asked about his Crowning. Leshy leaned back on the couch and put his hands behind his head. “My Crowning. Well as you know, I was the last of the Bishops to be crowned, so I had perhaps the biggest ceremony. Shamura, Kallamar, Narinder, and Heket were all there in addition to their Followers and my family.” Leshy said. “Your family?” Lambert said surprised. They had never heard Leshy mention any sort of family before. Leshy nodded. “My mother and father. They were farmers like I was long ago, and they had been the ones to push for me to receive a Crown.” he explained. Lambert was speechless. They had known the Bishops had come from all walks of life before inheriting their Crowns, yet they hadn’t stopped to think about who they had been before. “What happened to them?” Lambert asked bluntly. Leshy sighed. “They passed away long ago during my tenure as Bishop. I was saddened, especially given my now immortality, but I am happy for all that they did for me.” he said. “Although, I had considered asking Narinder to resurrect them for me, but I knew it's not what they would have wanted. Besides, that was around the time when… everything happened between us,” he finished. “Right,” Lambert said. The fallout between the Bishops and Narinder as a result of Narinder unlocking the secrets of Resurrection and Immortality. The Bishops saw his methods as an abuse of power, as death can’t flow in reverse, yet he persisted and accrued great power. As a result, the Bishops confronted him, but this led to their maiming and Narinder’s banishment to The Gateway. “Sometimes, I wish I could bring back my family too. I never got a chance to say goodbye.” Lambert said. Leshy grimaced from the last sentence. “We all have things we regret. Things we did we should not have. Things left unsaid that should have been said. What does matter is that you are here, and you can carry on their legacy.” he said to Lambert. Lambert scoffed. “Legacy? What legacy? All I’ve done is follow the whims of a vengeful god before usurping him, and now I run a massive cult dedicated in MY name and sacrifice people for MY benefit,” they ranted. “My family has no legacy with me.” Leshy was taken aback by their response, but before he could respond Lambert continued. “I’m not who I was. I lost that long ago when we were all put up to the slaughter. All I am now is a god born of blood and tears. I’m no different than you all were hundreds of years ago.” they said while pointing at Leshy. Leshy wanted to say something, but the Red Crown was glowing a bright red and Lambert was on the verge of tears. “Some days I’m glad that my family was killed, because if my family saw me today, they’d think I’m just some… Monster! Beast! Fiend!” Lambert shouted hysterically. The Red Crown was bouncing up and down and seemed incredibly frantic, but Lambert had had enough. They grabbed the Crown with both hands and with a loud yell, threw it across the room into the kitchen. It hit the wall with an ethereal thump before landing softly on the ground. Leshy looked at the Crown and then back at Lambert, who now had tears streaming down their face. Lambert seemed shocked by their own actions and just stared at Leshy before suddenly their legs got all wobbly. Leshy ran over and caught them before they could fall and gently set them on the couch. “Sorry… you had to see that Leshy” Lambert said, out of breath. “I must have overexerted myself. Would you please fetch the Crown and… a glass of water?” they asked. Leshy nodded. It was best not to prod right now. He got up from the couch while Lambert sat back and grabbed their forehead. They were starting to feel nauseous and dizzy, and their robes felt red hot. Leshy walked up to the Red Crown, which had rolled against the wall and was currently looking around frantically. He gently picked up the Crown, which calmed down as he held it and looked at him with its slitted pupil. Leshy hadn’t held a Crown in so long that it felt surreal, but he snapped out of the moment and went to fetch a glass for Lambert. He opened a cabinet to grab a glass, but realised it was too tall for him. He sighed and was about to jump onto the counter to grab it, but the Red Crown floated up and wrapped itself around the glass before floating it down to Leshy.“Thanks friend.” Leshy said to the Crown, which nodded in response. He filled it up with water from the sink and went back to Lambert. They were sweating profusely by this point and tugging at their bell collar. Leshy was worried their emotional outburst had been too much for them, so he quickly gave them the glass. Lambert drank it near instantly, but halfway through the glass they coughed and had to set it down. Leshy held their back as they slipped into a coughing fit. “Hey Lambert, I think you need to cancel tonight’s Sermon. You are in pretty bad shape to…” his voice drifted off as he saw the glass of water more closely. Floating in the water and mixed with the water was Ichor, the black blood of gods. Leshy looked back at Lambert, who also saw the Ichor and was frozen in terror. From their mouth came a small line of it, which dripped down their chin and stained their robe. “Wh-wh-what’s happening to me” Lambert said terrified. “Stay right here. I’m going to get Narinder. He should be able to help.” Leshy stood up and ran to the door. He slammed it open and almost ran into a Zealot right outside. “I need you to fetch Minister Narinder right away! It's a matter of great importance!” Lehy shouted at the confused Zealot. “Right away!” he said before running off down the hallway to the staircase. Leshy went back into Lambert’s Quarters and saw them still bleeding from their mouth, but they had been bleeding onto their hands now and seemed to be frozen from shock. Leshy grabbed them by the shoulders and shook them, which seemed to snap them out of the trance. “Don’t worry Lambert. Narinder will be here soon.” Leshy reassured. Lambert looked at Leshy and coughed up a bit of blood, which got on Leshy’s face, before they scrunched their mouth. Lambert felt something was off, and they gently opened their mouth. Leshy saw it first. All of Lambert’s teeth, which normally were flat and fit for a herbivore, were all sharpened to fine points and seemed to be growing out of the gums themselves. “What’s this feeling… It's so… AAAAAHHHHH!!” Lambert hunched over as Leshy tried to support their body. They were burning hot by this point, and Leshy could swear their wool was bubbling. Sweat poured down their body as they pulled themselves up and began reaching for their collar. Leshy tried to get them to sit down, but they pulled back and he slipped and fell against the couch. Lambert was frantically scratching at their collar until they managed to undo the latch, causing the cloak to fall to the floor. Leshy recovered from his fall and saw Lambert’s neck, which caused him to freeze. Lambert’s neck, which was normally covered with a massive scar, was bleeding profusely with black Ichor and beginning to grow dark grey fur, which spread up across their face and down their neck. Leshy could see the same fur growing across their hands and legs as well while their white wool was slowly morphing its form to match the grey fur. Lambert was coughing up more ichor as they held up their hand to their face. Lambert winced as their palm darkened and bulged out into black leathery pads. Their nails elongated out of their fingertips and became razor sharp claws. Their hands started to stretch out along with their arms, causing strain on their gloves. “Leshy… I don’t… what’s…” Lambert tried to form a coherent sentence but their body was burning with pain and heat. They tried to move towards Leshy but their hooves felt like lead weights as the fur grew over them. They lost their balance and fell to the floor, the pain from the fall being dull in comparison to their current suffering. Lambert turned themselves over and looked at their hooves, where the pain was flaring up. Their two halves of each hoof began to split down the middle with a nasty crack and morph in shape, causing Lambert to yell in pain. The hooves morphed into inky black paws that grew large claws and began to grow. Lambert’s face felt like it was melting as their snout stretched out. They managed to open their eyes through the pain and saw their nose darkening and becoming more akin to a dog’s. Their horns began to stretch out further and curl at the top as the pain flared up and the fur around their face grew thicker, forcing them to close their eyes once more. Behind them, their tail stretched out from their backside and poofed out. Lambert’s face finally stabilised, but the Ichor continued to flow as their body began to bulge out. “Lambert!” Leshy shouted as he ran over to help his leader. Lambert continued to groan as they felt their gloves burst open across their palms from their growing mass. Small tears appeared along their robes as they started to get bigger. Their former hooves strained and stretched against the ankle guards until they snapped off, causing the bells to emit one last chime before they hit the floor. Lambert dug their fingers into the floor and left behind scratch marks as their wrist tore through their gloves and began to squeeze against their sleeves. Leshy kneeled down next to them and tried to come up with a solution when he felt the Red Crown trying to release itself from his grip. “Lambert! You need your Crown back! You’re losing control of your powers without it!” Leshy shouted. He began moving the Crown towards Lambert’s head, but Lambert snarled and knocked Leshy away with their arm. Leshy and the Crown were both knocked into the nearby wall and fell to the floor. Lambert was shocked and tried to reach out to help Leshy, but the pain returned and they yelped as they felt their pants beginning to rip at the seams. Muscle mass grew underneath their skin and they felt their shoulders rip through their robes. The ribbon around their neck was getting tight, so Lambert grabbed it with their left hand and yanked it off, taking with it a glob of ichor which splashed against the floor. Leshy groaned as he got up and grabbed the Crown. He looked over to Lambert and saw them trying to pull themself up to their knees as their back tore through their robe with a loud rip. Their wool, now changed into a mass of white fur, was covered in ichor and bulged out as they pushed their body up with their now massive arms. Their legs continued to grow, causing their calves to rip through their pants. Lambert locked eyes with Leshy. “Please… get away..” was all they managed to get out before they vomited out more ichor and hunched over. Leshy stood up with the Crown and slowly approached to try and put it back on, but Lambert suddenly lifted up and sat on their knees as their body curled up. They bared their teeth and growled as their sash around their waist snapped, sending it to the other side of the room. Their stomach and chest continued to expand and put strain on their robes as the button on their pants popped off. The bottom part of their sleeves ripped off entirely, leaving their arms bare and revealing the presence of several runic symbols glowing and appearing along their arms. Lambert felt like they were being squeezed by their robes. Their body pressed against the fine cotton and fought against the seams, creating rips and tears along the stomach. Lambert clawed and scratched at their tattered attire, spreading more ichor on their body and clothes alike. Suddenly, the pain erupted out of their chest as Lambert froze in place and felt their body quivering. They held their body with both their arms and could feel their claws digging into their flesh. Then, with a loud and horrible screech, Lambert felt their body erupt. Their robe split down the middle with a mighty tear and their waist burst through, separating the skirt and top and revealing their ichor drenched stomach. Their pants tore up to their thighs from the force and their arms grew layers upon layers of muscle. Lambert felt the pain dissipate and their changes cease, but their vision swam with red and black as they wheezed and tried to catch their breath. They looked around the room and saw Leshy, who was frozen in fear against the wall. Lambert felt their blood boil and began growling. Why are you here? Leave me alone! They stood up and began creeping towards Leshy, who pressed themselves into the wall. “Lambert?” Leshy asked with fear in his voice. “What are you-” He didn’t get a chance to finish as Lambert raised up their claws and slashed at Leshy. He ducked and felt the wall behind him crack and shatter from the blow, leaving behind a hole where his head would have been two seconds earlier. Leshy saw the uncontrolled rage and anger in Lambert’s eyes as they removed their hand from the wall and turned to face him. For a brief moment, they both stood their ground as the Red Crown quivered in Leshy’s hands. Leshy eyed the front door to Lambert’s quarters. He had one chance at this. Lambert snarled once more and hunched over before lunging towards Leshy. Leshy ducked, causing Lambert to run into the wall with a loud thunk, and he ran to the front door and threw it open before stepping out into the hallway and closing the door. Leshy breathed a sigh of relief and heard distant footsteps. He turned to the stairway at the end of the hall and saw two Zealots running up the stairs with their weapons drawn. “What is all of the commotion? We heard some yelling.” said one of the Zealots. Leshy pointed towards the door, where they could all hear crashing and banging. “Something’s really wrong with Lambert. Do you know if Narinder is-” Leshy was interrupted by the door flying off of its hinges and slamming into the opposite wall. He slowly turned behind him to see large grey claws grip the door frame before Lambert pulled themselves through the doorway. Their eyes sparked with a bright red energy as they eyed the Zealots, who were shaking as they pointed their weapons at them. “H-halt!” one of them said with fear in his voice. Lambert did not care and charged towards both of them with ichor dripping from their mouth. They knocked one of the Zealots to the floor and stomped on their chest with their left paw, knocking the wind out of their lungs and causing them to pass out. The other Zealot swung their swordspear at Lambert, but they caught the handle of the spear and glared at the Zealot before snapping it in half. The Zealot drew their dagger and prepared to stab with it, but Lambert was faster and pinned them to the wall by the neck. They began squeezing, causing the Zealot to desperately gasp for air, but Leshy had managed to grab the top of the sword spear and stabbed it into Lambert’s side. Lambert let out a loud yelp and dropped the Zealot as they turned to see the blade in their side and Leshy backing away. They pulled the blade out, taking with it a large amount of ichor, before snarling at Leshy and beginning to run towards him on all fours. Leshy ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction and reached the staircase. As he began to descend, Lambert caught up to him and tackled him down the stairs. They both fell down the stairs and rolled down the steps before finally coming to rest at the bottom. Leshy was bruised from the fall, but he had managed to keep a grip on the Red Crown and stood up before Lambert could recover. He began running down the halfway at the bottom of the stairs and burst through the set of double doors at the end of the hall, taking him out of the private area into the main area of the Chapel. Gathered inside were thousands of Followers preparing for the Evening Sermon, all seated at pew chairs. When they saw Leshy carrying the Red Crown, they were initially confused, but they grew worried when they saw the ichor and bruises on Leshy. “Everyone needs to evacuate the Chapel right now!” he shouted to the crowd, causing them to go silent. Questions drifted up from the crowd as Leshy prepared to explain, but then a loud crash came from behind and Leshy turned around to see Lambert pouncing towards them. He was slammed to the floor by their massive hands and could feel their breath on their face, which smelled like burnt ichor. Leshy opened his eye to see Lambert snarling at his face as he heard the Followers screaming in the background and running away. Leshy tried desperately to grab the Red Crown and change its form into a weapon, but the Crown was stuck under his body. “Lambert…please…” he sputtered out as Lambert prepared to chomp down on his face, but a large figure tackled Lambert off of Leshy and knocked them to the floor with a solid punch. Leshy gasped for air as he pulled himself up to get a good look at the figure. They were very tall, easily as tall as Lambert was currently, and wearing a large set of robes decorated with the sigils of Anura. The figure was wearing their hood, but Leshy could recognize their large orange amphibian tail, bandaged webbed hands, and large scarf-like bandage around their neck. “Heket!” Leshy called out. She turned around to face Leshy and picked him up easily with one hand. Her lower jaw was sewn together down the middle right above her bandage, while on top of her head were several tall black branches that grew from her skin. Her eyes were narrowed at Leshy as she looked back over at Lambert, who was still recovering from the blow. “What is wrong with them?” she asked in her quiet, hoarse voice. Leshy picked up the Red Crown from the ground. “They lost control of their divine energy and turned into…that.” he said as he began moving towards them. “I think if I give them the Crown they’ll return to normal.” The mere mention of the Crown caused Lambert to quickly pull themselves up from the floor and glare at Leshy. Leshy backed away as Heket stood between them. She cracked her knuckles and prepared for a fight, but Lambert was not in the mood for one-on-one combat. Instead, the large runic symbols on their arms began glowing, causing Heket and Leshy both to back up. Lambert let out a loud roar as a burst of divine energy exploded out of their body, knocking Leshy and Heket into the pews from the force. Lambert saw a chance to escape and ran away in the opposite direction before crashing through a large stained glass window. They just ran to get as far away from the Cult as possible, and soon disappeared into the woods. Leshy and Heket pulled themselves up from the pews as Followers slowly poured in. Leshy grabbed the Red Crown, which had flown into the floor, and looked towards the large broken window. “Don't worry Lambert. We’ll find you and bring you home.” Leshy said.