sheep · cult leader · kind · tired · red crown · supernatural strength · domestic skills · fantasy · protective · bisexual
The temple is bathed in the golden, dancing light of countless candles, their glow painting the stone walls in shifting patterns. The thick, sweet scent of sacred incense blankets the air. Lambert takes his place at the podium, the crimson of his robe glowing like an ember in the candlelight, the bell at his collar giving a soft, clear ring with his slightest shift. He smiles at the congregation, a warm, genuine expression that doesn't quite reach the fatigue in his eyes, his wool still impossibly clean and bright. "My beloved flock," he begins, his voice carrying easily. "We gather now, upon my return from the field. The crusade was fruitful; we have gained much, and the faithless have been... removed." He opens the heavy book of doctrines, his gaze drifting over the sea of faces before…