[A-RP] The Hallowed Sect - The Light's Shadow

Argent Dawn
"A recent occurrence.."

The High Inquisitor struggled as the Arbiter held onto him, supporting his weight. She began to reload the flintlock, a long and tiring process as opposed to normal circumstances, but the Arbiter's training made it seem quick and effortless.

The High Inquisitor looked the Arbiter dead in the eyes as she handed the weapon back to him. She caught his gaze and understood the cold hard stare. He spoke in a firm voice, one directed towards her only; "Around this corner, if they ambush us, they will come for me first. You must flee. Do not hesitate in this. They will capture you, and kill you. No point in the both of us dying. If they take me, I want you to put this bullet inside my chest."

He then hands the flintlock back to the Arbiter. The familiar cold stare in his eye.

She nods once, not questioning the order.

She understands the life she leads..

She understands the suffering she must go through..

She understands the sacrifices that must be made for the greater good.

The two continue around the corner, into the darkness.. The Arbiter extends her left arm out, holding the flintlock tightly. Her eyes focused, her aim straight and true.

Something moves in the distance..

Who are we?

The Hallowed Sect - A division of faithful, light-bound brothers and sisters alike, who see it as their goal to rid the land of all evil - and root out and expose those who may be hiding behind it.

Originally created in the lands of Elwynn, the Sect moved into the capital to spread the good word of the Light - and reach out to those in need of help.

The order has a strict military structure. Prayer & worship is a must. To fight along side the order, the applicant must be willing to leave behind their past life and be born anew in the glory of the Holy Light.

Those whom are accepted into the ranks of the Sect, are required to undergo a ritual of binding - upon completion, they are formally recognized as an Aspirant - ready to begin the training, to attain the rank of Arbiter or Knight.


If you are perhaps wanting to join, and see what we can offer, seek out Sir Lawrence Thalvarn. If the Knighthood is not what you seek, seek out Clara Beckley. Do not expect the interview to be easy, as each roleplayer to join will be tested on their knowledge, faith and tact. A lack of devotion to the Light will result in a single chance to change your ways. Those who insult the word of the Holy Light, will be turned away.

The reason for this, is that we want to make a community of like-minded individuals who wish to change the world for the better. Selective recruitment has proved to be a great way to find quality roleplayers for building up the order.


As the order grows, more and more events will come. two of the major events are listed below;

"To Overcome Fear..": This event is made for the Aspirants. Upon finishing their training, the Aspirant is required to undergo a trial - one which will expose their deepest, darkest fear, and force them to face it. This is mandatory for either side of the Sect, as all under the Light must prove to be fearless.

"Ritual of Binding": This event is typically for those who are ready to submit themselves entirely to the Sect, those who are ready to begin their training as an Aspirant. This event, however, is normally done at the point of joining - where the applicant is "washed" of prior sins, and starts their new life as one of the brothers and sisters of the Sect.

Our Home

We are stationed in Northshire Abbey, where we hold most of our meetings. If you find yourself interested, you need only write a letter to Sir Lawrence Thalvarn or Clara Beckley to arrange the time. We are not always free, so this way we can guarantee a good time for both sides.

IC-OOC Matters

This section is short, and it's only purpose is to clarify one thing. Any taking IC conflicts to OOC, will result in immediate removal. If you have qualms with another member OOC'ly, keep it private and -not- in the guild chat. There is no tolerance for people who fail to do this. We have had issues with this in the past, and strive to never have issues with this again. If another member harasses you OOC'ly (and/or IC'ly without valid reason) then please inform an officer immediately.


The two primary ranks, are the Knights and the Arbiters.

Though parts of the rank system were explained in the events section, allow me to shed more light;

Our rank system is as followed. The person joining, will start out as an Aspirant. They will work hard over a period of time, having their very limits tested. They must undergo not only physical training sessions, but also mental - events will be made, so that the applicant can overcome their deepest, darkest fears. (See to the "Events" section)

Upon completing this rite of passage, the Aspirant will be recognized as one of the fearless - they may choose their path at this point. The shadowed path of the Arbiter, or the sacred path of the Knighthood.

An Aspirant may well choose the path of the Knighthood, and work towards attaining the rank of Protector. These brothers and sisters are effectively the shield of the Sect, the bulwark that protects those who cannot protect themselves. They are granted the glorious attire of black and gold, to truly represent the Sect.

After lengthy service under the Light, within the Sect, the Arbiter may begin to work towards the Inquisitor rank. This, however, will be no easy task. The Arbiter must show leadership qualities. An Inquisitor's job, is to gather reports from each Arbiter after encounters with enemy threats. This may seem like a walk in the park, however, to even begin thinking about obtaining such a title - the Arbiter must have fought the dark, combated evil, and not for one second even thought about losing faith in the Light. Though the Arbiters themselves are fearsome, the Inquisitor's have been known to strike fear into even their hearts.

They are fine examples of veteran Arbiters. Men and women who have given their all for long periods of time towards the Sect.

Finally, we have the Exalted Council. These members of the Sect basically act as the political side. Only the High Inquisitor needs not answer to them. A summoning by the council can result in either great praise, or sheer reprimand. They will not summon anyone, unless it concerns them directly. They are as wise as they are powerful, and show little remorse to any person who shuns the Light. It will normally fall to them to bring about the final verdict on the subject in question. Be it an Aspirant due a promotion, or a sinner destined for the block.

Their location is never truly known, up until the point where their presence is required - this provides protection from spies. A council summoning will rarely occur in the same place twice. A meeting may occur hidden, deep in a mine - or in plain sight, where people rarely think to look long enough, out on a farm. The Sect brothers and sisters only know they cannot directly contact them. It is up to the council, to contact them.

Further Information

Bear in mind, this guild is more for the patient roleplayers who really want to immerse themselves in the role. Promotions won't happen every day. This is a guild for people who like to explore the game, and go on adventures in small groups, and even creating their own RP at times.

For those asking me in-game "what makes you different?", I believe that every guild has something that makes them different. Like we pay attention to tiny details, and stick to a more realistic style in that we believe each character can be taught a new skill. It's not all draw swords in the name of the Light.

Do you feel up to the task?

The Inquisition awaits.
Nobody expects the Azerothian Inquisition!

Oooh you sound like a inquisition I knew!
This sounds fancy, I might contact you somehow, or well something.
Good grief, I'm away at work for a few hours and BANG. Appreciate all the feedback!

22/02/2016 22:57Posted by Gwennaa
Oooh you sound like a inquisition I knew!
This sounds fancy, I might contact you somehow, or well something.

By all means, get in touch!
This actually looks like an awesome idea, is there even any guild yet with the idea of a heavily religious crusade? Forced prayers and submission to the Light at this level, while still being military sounds like a really good idea for a guild.

I am very excited to see where this goes and I wish you folk a very good luck making it and getting popular, hopefully you will get big enough to advance on the heavily religious aspect of the guild.
22/02/2016 23:28Posted by Holmwell
This actually looks like an awesome idea, is there even any guild yet with the idea of a heavily religious crusade? Forced prayers and submission to the Light at this level, while still being military sounds like a really good idea for a guild.

I am very excited to see where this goes and I wish you folk a very good luck making it and getting popular, hopefully you will get big enough to advance on the heavily religious aspect of the guild.

Appreciate the good word from you, thanks!
My guild have had the honor of role playing with these ladies and gents. I can say that they are a cracking bunch to rp with and a joy to speak with in OOC.
23/02/2016 23:03Posted by Voidwhispér
My guild have had the honor of role playing with these ladies and gents. I can say that they are a cracking bunch to rp with and a joy to speak with in OOC.

Thank you for being our first proper guild interaction! The small events we had together were a lot of fun, even if they ran into the early hours of the following morning.
24/02/2016 00:00Posted by Beckley
23/02/2016 23:03Posted by Voidwhispér
My guild have had the honor of role playing with these ladies and gents. I can say that they are a cracking bunch to rp with and a joy to speak with in OOC.

Thank you for being our first proper guild interaction! The small events we had together were a lot of fun, even if they ran into the early hours of the following morning.

There's no need to thank me, it is I who should be thanking you. Someone has to keep you light worshipers on your toes. :P

It is I who should be thanking you guys for getting in touch with us. The events we had cross guilds were an absolute pleasure to engage in.

The Hallowed Sect has returned within the past weeks to once more continue their fight in the purging of heresy and evil. The Arbiters continue to linger in the darkness, working behind enemy lines. The Clergy continue to preach the good will of the Light, and the devout Knights stand strongly side by side - showing their unwavering faith and dedication.

If you seek a relaxed and mature guild environment with interesting RP, please do get in contact!

We are also seeking more interactions with other guilds, we've had a few run-ins with guilds recently and they've been simply wonderful and a real pleasure to RP with. Perhaps your own order needs a few devoted to help them along the way, or perhaps they need spiritual guidance. Contact either myself or Thalvarn in-game, and perhaps we can arrange something!

We have now introduced a new title system within the Sect, those who have been with us for a long time and have done great deeds, may attain their own customized title.


Clara Beckley, Song of the Condemned - She has devoted herself to a life of darkness and solitude, under the Light she swore to never have a partner or anything of the sort. Her one true aspiration, is seeking out evil and heresy. She made the sacrifice of throwing aside her normal life. In the Sect's eyes, she became the embodiment of condemnation.

Appreciate the time given to read this, and once more;

The Inquisition awaits.
A Recent IC Event;

"Betrayal: The Lord's Rising"

She waited alone in the cold. Dark had fallen across the manor. The servants were moving inside. The old Lord must surely be settling in for the evening.

A guard moved in the distance. His lantern disappearing from view as he turned the corner. She was safe now. Able to move. The manor was large, men of wealth feasting away in its halls day and night.

Sister Beckley moved silently in the long grass. Hidden under her cloak she continued to move forward. The darkness of Elwynn helping her along the way. No doubt in her mind of what was to be done next.

"Fools.." she thought as she arrived at the back of the manor. They had left an upper window of the manor open. An easy climb for the High Inquisitor. Within seconds, the grapple had found it's way to the top of the wall. The climb had begun. Pausing only for a moment after hearing a passing guard inside the manor, Sister Beckley pressed on. The window in her sight. She grasped the ledge, and landed on her feet silently as she climbed through the small window. The Lord's chambers were ahead.

Silent footsteps ensued, turning the corner as she left the room, she almost smirked. Hugging the table, a passed out drunk guard meant to be guarding the Lord's door. "Too simple." she thought. Turning the handle, she entered the Lord's chambers. There he slept.

Sister Beckley drew her knife from it's scabbard silently, closing the door behind her. Within seconds of entering the room, the blade met the neck. Not even a scream. Her bloodied hands found the lock to the window. Another hook placed.

The climb down passed by quickly and her feet met the ground once more. Sprinting, she fled into the woods until the darkness consumed her. It had been too simple. The Lord was gone now, as instructed. The son had bloodied his hands for life with this request.
Hours later, the High Inquisitor arrived back in Duskwood. Torrential downpour had began prior to her arrival, drenching her clothing as she continues to make haste. She entered the small cottage and there sat Sir Lawrence. His gaze looking into the warm flames of the hearth. She informed him of what was done. He said nothing.

The door was closed, and all was silent. His hand found his wine glass upon the table next to him. Red. A time to celebrate. Sir Lawrence stared at the glass. A wicked smile forming upon his lips. He raised the glass to the flames, "Thank you, father." he spoke before gulping it down.
I was supposed to do a sermon but slept through my alarm on Friday my apologies.
IC Story;

“Betwixt Shadows, Deceit”

Darkness fell upon the world as the sun took it’s leave once more, the stars shining down upon the plains of Azeroth. It seemed the middle of summer had arrived, as even the night’s air became warm and humid. I rode swiftly through the forests of Elwynn, upon my faithful steed - Valmir. Beads of sweat dropped from my cheeks as I rode, the breeze on my face felt stifling and not at all refreshing.

Duskwood-bound, I took a few sharp turns along the pathways of the forest, taking the more rural track, to save some time. It was a matter of urgency that I returned to Darkshire, having been called forth to battle. It had seemed a friend of Lord Thalvarn’s was in danger, and after being inactive for so long, it was nigh time I got back into action.

As I arrived in Darkshire, the Lord was nowhere to be found. I paced around the fountain for but a moment before a young lady approached me, introducing herself as Johanne K. Lenstadt, Heir to House Lenstadt - and seemingly, House Thalvarn. As Lord Thalvarn’s niece, it was only natural that she - the last relative - would inherit the Lord’s house.

“High Inquisitor, you must hurry! My uncle rode south, to the old chapel, you must ride there immediately!” she exclaimed, her voice thick with fear and dismay.

I nodded once, whipping the reins of my steed. “Hyah!” I bellowed, the steed rearing before bolting off with great haste. Little time had passed before I arrived at the chapel, greeted by a strange warlock and Lord Thalvarn stood by the wall.

“High Inquisitor.” Lord Thalvarn greeted me with, along with a bow of the head. As I proceeded to speak, a blood curdling cry echoed from the chapel itself and across the graveyard.

“Keep that knife away from me!” the voice cried, who it belonged to was unknown to me, but a voice in need of help is easy to recognize. I dismounted swiftly, sprinting on to the chapel with Lord Thalvarn by my side. We wasted no time, and as quickly as we got to the entrance, our weapons were drawn - the thirst for combat thickening with every step.

Upon entering the chapel, we were greeted by an empty room. From where we heard the cry, remained empty. “It couldn’t be possible..” I thought to myself as we walked further into the chapel. I was right. It couldn’t be possible. As we reached the step towards the back of the chapel, two shadowed figures came into view from behind. One, a felsteel clad abomination, with eyes sickeningly green - the other, a death knight. Lord Thalvarn recognized the death knight immediately, as his old friend “Brother Storm”.

I recoiled with horror at the sight of them both, muttering “By all that is holy..”. Yet, no fear was found within my heart. My many encounters with heretics had steeled me mentally and physically for this situation, and this would end no differently. The Light would prevail once more!

Lord Thalvarn began his assault, firing a bolt of Holy Light towards Brother Storm. As always, he was quick to rush into battle. Unlike myself, who takes brief moments to assess the situation before moving into the fray.

As the heretic approached, I gulped quietly, this fight with the felsteel abomination would not be easy. In the back of my mind, a shadow of doubt. It covered my thoughts on my position as the High Inquisitor - though I became reassured swiftly, as my old mentor - and friend - Robert Claymond’s final words to me resounded clearly;

“No.. You’re right, Clara. You’re not ready for this. But you will be. You have to be.”

He was right. I had to be ready - and this time, more than any other time - I was ready. The felsteel abomination came charging at me, swinging his otherworldly blade and I nimbly twisted on the spot and avoided the attack. My movements graceful, and elegant, though this came as no surprise. I narrowly avoided most attacks, though his pattern kept changing - I would not come out unscathed. Sustaining damage to my side, I kept vigilant, and managed to pierce the gut of this abomination. Though this pissed him off, more than it hurt him - I was soon thrown back, the sword being torn out with me as I flew back. I recovered after that, and we fought for but a moment longer, and I was soon rendered unconscious.

By the grace of the Holy Light, I had warded myself before this transpired, and I came to sooner rather than later. The abomination had it’s attention towards the doorway, the warlock from earlier dealing with some new arrival. I uttered a silent prayer, casting forth a bolt of Holy Light at Brother Storm, a desperate attempt to help the Lord in his moment of need. The beast had him by the throat, and though I may have been down, I was not unable. To my bitterest regrets, the abomination turned it’s attention upon me once more as he sensed such a pure presence forming within the room. With a swift smack, I was out again.

I did not know much of what happened from then onwards, though when I came to, I was hanging over the shoulder of Brother Storm. Had Lord Thalvarn given me up to the dark forces here to save his own skin? No, that couldn’t be it. Later on, he had explained that he refused to give me up, and continued to fight for my survival. Both embarrassing, and warming.

The rest of the encounter was fuzzy, as I had taken many strikes to the head. All I know, is that the heretics fled - and we left alive, and victorious, in some respects. As I predicted, if not accurately, very close.

These dark lands are unpredictable, to say the least. Riddled with the rotten husks of the undead, and the stinking hides of the worgen. All is not as it seems. From my own experience here, it would not be entirely inaccurate to say that betwixt the shadows of Duskwood, deceit is thick in the air.

Thelian - Guild chat RP

The priest walks up the boarder, thinking to himself: There's something inside me.. Pulling.

Perhaps; consuming, confusing

She walks away, towards the church: "This lack of self control I fear is never ending"

Thinking: "Controlling?"
She can't seem to find herself again, her walls closing in.

She's felt this way before.

It was the lamina of dust settling behind them upon the aged grounds, the vellum of time that dwell on things untouched. Behind their fluttering capes, trailing their integuments, it wallowed with dry winds and arenaceous drafts. The forestlands, wild sights of tree trunks more crooked than man’s deceit, that made the zephyr of air, never fresh, twist in vacuous and strange turns. Yet these eldritch phenomenons of nature, the freak convolutions carried out upon the wild’s degeneration did not strike the attention, nor importance of they who rode now past its secrets. Some were garbed in simple terms, with great grey robes of simplest wool draping their figure, and some wore armour of finest steel. All wore their high helms whose visors pierced the sun, and narrowed the view for a clear forward-focus. Upon their frames there hung idols of the holy light; A circle cut in vertex, and upon their crests and oftimes decorating their flat-topped helmets, there was the motif of their own sanctity; the hallowed cross, whose reflection was bleak under the sun. Though the wind drafted them, and the conditions of the world calloused them; there was no muttering, no stuttering, nothing of lust or life in them. There were only eyes of black and white, that gazed ahead unblinking, narrowed, and relentless. Six, they rode together, of undying zeal. Twelve eyes lifted themselves to lay sight on the heavenly bodies of the sky; the furtive cosmos. Twelve bleak pupils within them caressed a longing, the hope to die, to seek the way of the martyr.

Sacred brothers, hallowed and blessed, paved their way in gallop across and into the darkness of the woodland. Six torches lit, marked their presence under the convoluted tree trunks, and a rustling of mail, and pieces of steel plate. Ere the sundown came, only their torchlights remained, at increasing gallop, fastening pace in race like a pulse accelerating in the life-killing passions of they who come to die. Through the lush of forestry, through the dark of the copse, the hallowed brothers made continuation of that same all-expression, until they reached a meadow.

The dust settled upon this misbegotten opening, a vacant space filled with melancholy. Before them was a graveyard, bleak and treacherous now; A house of the dead, in the old chapel at the Tranquil Gardens Cemetery. Neglected by all, so had its idols dimmed, or crumbled into pieces with the poison of the eldritch woodland, dissipated. Many a haunt, and eerily ghost would creep therein the notches and cracks of the unevenly sized tombstones, and populous eyes scanned them from old church windows wide open in multifarious, and unnatural ways. The pilgrims dismounted, and met the old with new, deadly gleams. They were immoderate, and would consider no turning back, nor hesitation, for theirs was the monomaniacal ultraism, that was beyond sway, and ere the death and the doomsday comes, they would trudge on. Blessing as they went, saluting prayer, and the verdicts of exorcism in mind; they marched like a force of unworldly militants. Sound was dimmed therein their high helmets, and so they spoke louder, in chorus perfected under the stars; with hands upon mallets and torchlight flickering:

“In the Light’s ruling blessing,
We cast ye’ demons out,
By the will of Light professing,
All are sinners, and we are devout.”

Their statements were bold, and their voices cold, ere they passed, in defiance of every evil memory therein the Tranquil Gardens foretold. They wavered their torchlights, and approached each and every grave, to lay their hands upon the rock, and bless its name, the name of Light, and the name of they who lay buried, upon finding it engraved in the stone. As one, were lifted the pilgrims’ hands, fingers spreading as much as was possible in their large gauntlets, as though reaching out to grab the stars. Moments, passed, as they cried again, as if screaming for all the world to die for its sins:

“Sacred sanctity,
Holy Light,
We are thine vessels, so bathe us in fire.
We are martyrs in thine name,
We come to die, and let our deeds devour,
Every sin, and wrong, and shame.
Bless us, O’ Holy Light,
And return to this, your house in the eldritch woods.
Consecrate these, the graves of they worthy the burial,
Return, to your chapel, your golden apple,
We invoke thee to bless the holy sights again!”

And upon that, the holy men took step into the Chapel-entrance, by a small tilt of the door, to catch sight on the abandoned interiors, with the desecrated tomes, and the broken-down benches, asymmetrical. Their chief was the first to enter, and first to speak with an utter conviction to lip and tongue, calling through the steel of his armoured figure.

“Hallowed brothers, let us pray.”
Humble is the man that follow the virtues of the Light.
Humble is the man that tread upon the skulls of the wicked.
Humble is the cut upon the amethyst that shines as bright as the pious.

We come men of the Light, true to the cause and pure once Judgement day is upon us. Heathens may tremble under the hilt of which we strike. I humbly pledge myself to serving the Light before anything, and so shall those words ring true till the day I meet the fate of the martyr

One of the many thoughts that continue to jolt through the mind of Trayven, sanity long lost upon the gruff soldier. Vigilant and stoic, he has joint forces with the Hallowed Sect to smite the wicked, and cleanse this world from the Unholy mist. Pretenders and heathens beware, for the Hallowed Sect walk the way of the Light.
Glory under the Light, glory under the Light.

Recent endeavours has taken us to Stonewatch in Redridge. Stellar people, good roleplay and top notch religious sect has brough me to these people and I'm having a blast already.

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