They tell a story of a nun, one bound to a god's service. To him, she bowed, and to him, she looked up to. Her smile was as pale as milky morning dew resting on a tulip, her skin more fair than a wisp's glow and her laughs a sweet melody. She had no name for her master deemed it not necessary, and yet she was happily being one of the many congruent to her deity.
But gods have a knack for testing the faith of the faithful while ignoring the devilish. And yet she was supposed to pray every waking moment of her being even though the sinful were let loose and instead, she was the one being punished?
"Why must you test me so often, my lord?" She questioned in defiance, kneeling in front of the idol of the deity.
Carved in stone was neither a man nor a woman but something in between. Radiating through its head was the concentrated light of the sun reflected through the many stained glasses inside the church. It painted the idol in a rainbow glow, almost blinding to its own priest and priestesses.
"No answer, again?" Her hands clasped in prayer finally let go, she hadn't lost faith but merely been challenged by her own self.
Laying down her dark gown, she plucked the only other outfit present in her closet–a white gown, similar to the other but only worn in mourning for someone's death. That became her first act of defiance, and the head priestess made sure to lash her well for dawning those clothes unceremoniously.
'I merely wish to test my lord, why can't I? If he can always do the same to me?' Her defiance grew with such thoughts, and so came the cigarettes, the alcohol, and eventually the hashish. With no name, no duty, no family, no deity, she would stay outside the church puffing smoke that made her cough out her lungs.
"If there is a god, one as benevolent to the sinless and malevolent to the sinful as they claim, then strike me with your own hands and I'll bow my head to you until my finite days come to an end..." Yet, contrary to what she'd expected, the more she let herself fall into depravity the less became the lashing. The more hopelessly lost she seemed, the less people around her cared.
It was at that time that she realized that those who are lost are not lost because of their sins, but the holier-than-thou nature of the sinless towards those who didn't know any better. After all, why couldn't they serve their god by helping the sinful instead of bowing their head at an idol that doesn't speak a word? Why not feed the hungry instead of offering fruits to a stone that had no mouth?
"The impartial judge," a greater power that judges his own the same he judges the heretics, just hearing it was enough to spark up the nun's eyes.
She'd been looking for him throughout her teenage years and now as an adult inching closer to her later years, she'd finally found him.
"Come with me and I shall reshape this world under the iron rule of one," his wrinkled hand stretched towards her, and without a second thought the nun of the god of law let herself fall into the worst of arms.
However, even years passed she never regretted her choice for the lord of all demons, the source of all corruption, to treat the innocent and the sinful alike. Under his iron rule she learned to undo death itself, and even phase through realities through a flick of her fingers.
Through it, she could witness anything and everything without ever being touched by the enemy with the only drawback being that she couldn't fight the heretics herself and instead needed a pawn that would do as she commanded.
And to what end was her service? Past the demon lord's death by Nighsilver's hands? To spread corruption throughout the world, unnoticed by any and all. Just like the sinless ignored her presence as she blew smoke, she went unnoticed even though her presence could easily be sniffed out by the veterans of the last holy war.
Her name? The ever-present horror or simply the White Nun of The Silver Scythe. A human turned monster, living behind the thin film of reality. She was there and she wasn't, nobody could touch her much less hurt a single hair on her body.
However, watching every move of the hero's party to gauge the level of threat the demons should be prepared for, she wanted to reach through the film and toy with them a little.
'Perhaps now, perhaps later.' Thankfully for the party, however, she kept her curiosity reeled in.