Crossreign

0. The Nightfall

Sun rose over the horizon, spilling its golden rays across the bay. Seawater gently lulled Ravenport awake by washing up against the city's numerous piers. The boats that were tied to them swayed along while the bigger ships remained unaffected. A breeze brought along the salty ocean smell.  While Ravenport wasn't the capital, it had the largest and most important port in the entire land, hence the name. Its many spiked spires rose along the skyline as sailors from distant lands neared the shoreline. Once their foreign ships docked they were freed of their cargo and the many sailors, too, came to walk the seaside. As the sun continued its ascent, bells tolled. It was as if they were welcoming this flaming celestial orb that blessed the world with light each day. In reality, these bells were calling morning mass. They came from the St. George's cathedral rooted in place in the city square, lined with small shops and other cozy businesses. The only thing taller and louder than the cathedral was the Clocktower – a spire that rose way into the skies with its goliath clock face. Gargoyles and spikes adorned it, along with many different carvings. It was a favored perch for birds, particularly doves, crows and ravens. 

As people dragged themselves toward the place of worship, some sleepy and some already wide awake, there was clergy gathering inside. They were gliding around the sunlit interior complete with spiraling stairs and many, many pews. Their white robes accentuated with blue trim barely met the floor as a small choir assembled in front of the cathedral's apse. Many candles burned in front of saint icons strewn across the nave. People began seating themselves in the aisles of the cathedral, chatting quietly among each other. Commoners and nobles alike had arrived, though their seating still separated them. Men sat on one side, women on the other. Aristocrats sat in the front, peasants in the back. Between them came the middle class folk, the workers and merchants who were said to run most of the city. 

The reigning clergy in this city was known as the Diaconicum. Their most recognizable assets were the previously mentioned white capes. While they existed across the land and reported directly to their cardinal, who in turn reported to the Pope, they weren't alone. There were numerous abbeys in the land full of nuns and monks who did what the higher clergy wouldn't. They cured people, housed those in need and generally aided the society.
There was a large organ at the back of the cathedral, on the balcony. Someone had once nicknamed it the Lungs of God, though it was long forgotten who. By the time mass had started, the pews were full and voices in unison resounded across the cathedral's interior. It was just like any other morning, really. Outside birds chirped and merchants began gloating about their fresh wares to attract customers. Hooves of horses could be heard in unison with carriage wheels, clanking along on the bumpy stone roads. Even the castle, perched up on a small hill was waking to life, albeit slower than the city. Many walked Ravenport's narrow cobblestone streets any time of the day. People were strolling along to their destinations, winding around crooks and greeting each other. Occasionally even tourists could be seen, mostly from the capital but also from a distant country if one was to be blessed with such luck. Potted plants hung out of windows of the half-timbered houses with open shutters. Shop and pub signs swayed gently with the breeze playfully tugging on them. Smell of freshly bakes bread drifted through the streets. Children rolled on their backs in emerald grass, pointing at the clouds. Were these white tufts in the sky also going somewhere, they wondered? Or maybe, if they looked hard enough they could see an angel lurking among the mysterious celestial cotton balls.

"But you mustn't look at an angel," one of them inquired. "Sister says their wings can blind people!" both children giggled at the thought. Toward the evening, as the sun sunk and sizzled beyond the ocean, the wind had picked up. It chased these clouds in toward land, forming what almost looked like a wall. The sun provided light still and bathed the city in brilliant hues of orange. Yet shadows already pooled in nooks and crannies of Ravenport. Window shutters began to close as the chilly night approached. The citizens were right to do so. Many experienced sailors told it was boding for a storm tonight. As small shops closed and called it a day, another array of businesses appeared. With sundown, pubs and the red light district woke to life. You could tell by the clinking of glasses, laughter and scarlet lanterns blossoming in the night. No clergy in the world could stop people from enjoying life, unless the person themselves had decided to give up all earthly pleasures. 

Clouds were now thick over the city spires, coating it like a blanket. The moon's glowing disc shone weakly through the veil. Some people carried on long into the night, though most pubs begun to shut their doors too. There were now drunkards and crooks wandering the streets of the in daylight righteous city. Though, many were assured the capital was worse. The sailors who had tipped toward a storm had their way. Gusts of wind were howling as they spun and twisted around the towers and spires, bringing along chilly wind. Yet this chill had something... off about it. Something haunting, foreboding. So noted a lone man standing on the cathedral's outer balcony. By the looks of it he belonged to the Diaconicum as the merciless wind lifted and dragged at his cape. He turned heel and disappeared inside.

As the bells rung their way into a new dawn, something was clearly off. No light streamed through the houses' shutters or lit up the bay. No birds chirped and not a dog's bark accompanied the slowly waking city. Did the storm carry on for longer than people expected? But it wouldn't be dark as night then, would it? Bells began to sing their mighty song, willing people to the clergy. Because they would know something, right? The streets soon swelled with panicked people who pushed their way to the square, around its grand fountain and into the cathedral. Its interior was as always illuminated by hundreds of candles. Worried voices chimed and filled the nave and aisles as clergy amassed to try and keep the horde under control. Some people had brought out rosaries, quietly breaking into prayer. Where the choir previously stood was now the Diaconic cardinal and the man who had previously watched the city from the balcony. They were surrounded by fellow priests who mumbled among themselves. The man however, wasn't a priest. He didn't bear their stole. With a few loud claps, owing it to the unmatched acoustics, the clamoring subsided.

"Listen, fair folk! God is testing us," a wave of whispering swept over the cathedral. "There is evil afoot in our world." The speaker was the Diaconicum's most prominent exorcists, by the name of Wilhelm. He was a trusted member of the clergy whose methods of exposing and exorcising demons were unmatched. As Wilhelm delivered the disheartening news, a new wave of whispers swept over the people. He raised his hand as if to calm the crowd down. "But fear not, good people! The evil can be countered." A few relieved sighs surfaced.

So had the eternal night come. And indeed, Wilhelm was fully correct. The whole country started seeing spikes of demon activity. At first, the Diaconicum's agents weren't enough to cover all of these attacks. Especially not when other filth started showing its' faces, namely vampires, werewolves and other unholy creatures. However, in equal measure to these spikes of activity had appeared volunteer organizations to stave off the invaders. One of these were the Swiss Guard. The small group was local to Ravenport and at the time, one of the youngest hunting organizations founded. Citizens easily distinguished them by a red, symmetrical cross that they wore. They carried spears and swords tied with white banners. They went where the higher clergy wouldn't, keeping the streets clean. Nobody is quite sure who started the Swiss Guard, though some rumor it was by Wilhelm's command. In fact, the exorcist's death had, also, come about. Some say it was to a demon and some chronicle of other scenarios. Yet, nobody is entirely sure.

And so it continues until this very day. Since the beginning of the Nightfall, rosaries and holy water had become a staple in Ravenport. Scarcely anyone goes out at day, let alone at night. Dangers also filled the Darkwood bordering the city, as well as the Valefis bay. The living could now only move north, to the capital, as an even thicker forest circled the city from the south. The brave joined the hunt, while others stayed behind. Will it be successful, wonder?