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I am the true power of vengeance given flesh, and in the white-hot fires of pure wrath I have been forged into an immaculate instrument of justice. I am the spear that pierces the heart of evil, and the smoldering brand upon the flesh of the unclean. What men have made dirty, I shall make clean. What men have made sinful, I shall make righteous. You are right to fear me, and if you be mine enemy, you are right to
despair.

Behold my form. My muscles shatter all walls of stone behind which mine enemies might hide. My fists are clenched in undying rage, set to smash the skulls and break the bones of those who have trespassed against that which is good. My great wings splay out behind me, the color of fire and blood, carrying me through the skies as swiftly as the pure light of burning dawn. My helm is the face of retribution—a mirror in which the guilty shall see their crime reflected, just before their punishment falls. My body is all of the implements of war, held by the chains of duty that bind me to this most worthy cause. I am the blade which cuts away sin. I am the axe which chops down foes. I am the hook which hauls the guilty to judgment. I am the maul that crushes all hope of escape. I am the perfect weapon of my god, and my wrath is glorious.

To ask what motivates me is to ask the rain why it falls or the sun why it burns. A force of nature as sure and eternal as any force in the universe has set me in motion, and like the arrow I fly.

All that remains is to ponder the foolishness of my quarry and learn a lesson from their sin. The Questor's Society abused the power that they held. Instead of using their strength for righteous action, they committed cowardly sin, massacring innocents for reasons most petty. The shame and guilt that should burn in their souls should be great, but compared to the fury of my wrath is but a candle before furnace. Other wrongdoers have met punishment at my hands and suffered fates worse than death, but my war of vengeance against the Questor's Society has just begun. The song of my deeds shall be sung by their screams, and the fires of their ruin shall twinkle in the night, as beautiful and as many as the stars.