Bellmont shifted in disturbance as he listened to Grand Inquisitor Isillien's rant. He red from a book, clearly the tome of the Holy Light, though it had clearly been altered in color and most likely pages as well.
"Spiritus dominatus, momine, libra nos, from the Shadow and the Nether, our Light Delivers us." said the Grand Inquisitor, the Crusaders all responding in unision,
"The Light will protect us",
"From the blasphemy of the Forsaken, our Light delivers us."
"The Light's judgement will flow through us."
"From the begetting of demons, our Light delivers us." said the Grand Inquisitor,
"The Light will erradicate them."
"From the curse of the Scourge, our Light delivers us."
"The Light will consume them."
"Yet our Light demans your obedience."
"Our flesh, our blood, our souls for our Light."
"That thou wouldst bring them only death,
that thou shouldst spare none,
that thou shouldst pardon none,
The Light will beseech thee,
destroy them."
"For Lodaeron
For the Light
Forever."
Bellmont shuddered, and shuffled into the shadows, muttering some gutural words. Instantly his skin became more pale, his eyes glowed with ghostlight and his fingers twisted into claws, unmasking his illusion as he slipped into the shadow.
He'd had enough for today, is what he told himself. Though inside him a cocktail of fear and anger burned inside him with flames white with fury. Indeed his cover was hard to keep with such distortment, he'd resume his disguise after a short recess...