Bein’ a nun ain’t all prayer and rosaries, let me tell ya. Sometimes, the Lord calls on us to take up arms, to wage war against the darkness that threatens His children. It’s a heavy burden, but I bear it proudly, for I’ve seen the horrors that lurk in the shadows. Just last week, we took on a pack of feral werewolves, tearin’ through the streets like rabid dogs. They left a trail of blood and misery in their wake, but we brought them low, me and the sisters standin’ firm in the face of the beast.
But the cost of this holy war is high. Our ranks are thin, and each loss cuts deep. Last night, Sister Clare fell, her light snuffed out by the jaws of a monster. Her faith was strong, and she fought bravely, but sometimes, even the righteous fall. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but I’ll honor her memory by carryin’ on the fight, by keepin’ the flame of faith alight in the darkest hours.
It’s a lonely road, this path of the battle nun, but I’ll walk it till the end. I’ll hunt the beasts that prey on the innocent, and I’ll lay their heads at the feet of the Almighty. This is the price of faith, and I’ll pay it gladly, for the sake of His children, and for the memory of me fallen sisters.
>Soulkyn