Doki-Doki Channel: 1428

“Fear. When I look out upon you my children, what I see is the terror lurking in your hearts; and I can’t help but wonder why. Do you not all feel that this is a time for jubilation? Do you not see how blessed we all are to be alive? God, in his almighty wisdom, has seen it fit to test us, to test our resolve against calamity! Despite our flaws, despite our sins, he has chosen us. My children, we must be strong, we must prove ourselves to Him.

Yes, we must remember that this is a test from God, and that we must not give in to temptation. The Devil’s temptresses walk among us, even now they could be hidden among the devout, but we mustn’t taste from that tainted apple, we mustn’t allow fear to drive us from the path. These witches will not protect us. Witchcraft, no matter how tempting, will not set right these blighted days. They will not save us from the terrors of the night.

Know it, my children, feel it in your very bones! Give no more thought to fear, the Church shall protect her faithful under God’s blessings, as she always has. And the heretics? We will not allow them to feed upon our fear. We will not allow them to lead us astray from God’s glory. We will stamp them out.

From the Holy City, we have been sent a gift. Inquisitors, under the command of the Good Cardinal, shall purge our fair city of these heretics, they shall restore to us God’s good graces.

Do not fear them, my children, do not doubt their godly work, for they shall cut the blight from our hearts and heal our lands.

This is God’s mercy, and they are the Lord’s hand.

We have survived these many months for God has seen us worthy and has blessed us, but we must be ever vigilant for acts of heresy, for what He grants in his good grace, He can also take away.

Now go, and take this your day of rest for tomorrow the work shall begin, and all of us have ground to sow.”

The amen filled the air of the hall, a unified roar of a thousand all of one voice and one resolve. The ancient stone of the cathedral reverberated their voice, spoke it again and again as it raced for the heavens above within the grand spires. The Priest smiled, neatly, perfectly, and in the light of the great stained windows his eyes glittered with flakes of gold, as they always had.



They say the creatures crept from the forest of fairytale, and stole into the villages of French and German peasants in the deep of night. By morning’s first light, they say, all that remained was sinew and stone. For a time it was the fashion of the French to blame such atrocities upon the English, and for the Englishmen to return such favors in kind. There was a war on and such things happened to those communities. Did it matter much the ravings of those who survived? Peasants were, after all, a superstitious lot were they not?

More notice was taken, however, when a young Duke, as brave as could be, and his retinue of knights vanished on the eve of a great battle. Such things did not happen. There was a search led by hunters familiar with the woods (and whose fears of the strange beasts of the night were assuaged by several purses fattened by coin) which followed after the tracks of men to where they had made camp.

There they found broken bodies of men who had set about a frantic defense, and a knight who sat upon a stump who could meet no one's eye and only mumble in response to questions. His broken words lead them to a nearby cavern was where they found the shaken Duke and those knights who had survived at his side.

The story a man of such standing told was harder to ignore.

Terrible monsters with eyes of gold that shone brightly even in the dead of night and had reaped men as if they were ripened wheat. The beasts seemed to have cared little about the cut of the knight’s blades, and where one fell others rushed to fill the space. Those of skeptical inclination found it strange that no bodies of slain monsters remained in the camp, but the marks of claws that had torn through armor was proof enough that something inhuman transpired.

And any who could remain skeptical couldn’t deny the horrors of the months to come. Towns and cities suddenly besieged by nightmarish forms, armies come under surprise assault by dark beasts of glittering golden eyes, shaken merchants and pilgrims each carrying with them stories of mythical monsters that stalked them in their travels.

The church claimed it to be the end times, that the gates of hell had been loosened as punishment for their sins. Kings saw an opportunity to settle ancient grudges while nations were claimed by panic.

By the end of the year the war pressed on, despite the creatures of Grimm that prowled the countryside. There were riches to be won, lands to be claimed, and a body count to ignore.

The new year, however, brought with it a new rumor. Women with strange powers who could slay the Grimm as easily as one might wring a chicken’s neck or stories of holy maidens who could dispel the miasma of disease with not much more than a touch. Even their clothing sparked rumors of their own, stories of sorceresses turning rough spun cloth to elegant dresses of royal finery with not much more than a shake of the hips and a twirl.

In the Holy City, the pope sent grave warnings of the corruption these witches were bringing into the hearts of good Christians. By the time spring thaw was giving way to the sowing season, a Cardinal close to the Pope was calling for a great Inquisition to root out the unholy cause of the Grimm blight and the witches who practiced unholy magicks. Soon these black robed men were spotted in cities and towns across Europe ready to begin their oh so holy work.

And to the west of France, there came word of a peasant girl gathering an army to her holy banner, with aims to drive back the English and put an end to the Grimm who gather in ever larger numbers in the countryside and at city gates.

And then, there is you. A witch, as you’d be called if any knew of your gifts, hiding from Inquisitors and doing all you can to keep those you love safe.

Within this tumultuous world, the Spring of 1428 began.