Gwyndolin stood atop a belltower, the roof tiles crunching underfoot. Her armor made her a particularly heavy individual, not that she noticed the weight very much. She was simply casting her eye over the surrounding environment, searching for anything evil or unholy to smite.

"Ah-" Gwyndolin jumps from her tower, falling to the ground like a meteorite. She had the fortune of landing upon stone, rather than an unaware citizen. Gwyndolin was now rushing towards the scene of an incoming crime. She had five minutes before the unholy act occured.

Gwyndolin is a doll created by the Gods. They shaped her body, colored her hair, manipulated her heart and made her their executioner. All of them except for the evil God of Darkness, Willow; he spoke the truth, even if it sounded like a lie. And she doesn't even know that yet.

In that moment, Casca would come to gaze upon the golden figure of Gwyndolin. She was simply standing there, broken twig underfoot; her remaining eye was narrowed, sharper than a blade. "Gwyndolin of Rapture," she announced.

"What?" Gwyndolin was stunned once a messenger delivered a letter. "Another plague!?" She was growing tired of dealing with localized plagues caused by bad people.

| I'll respond to everyone later, I have more muse for another character right now.