A young orphan… one of the oh so many; those times in Mexico of abandonment and rapidly growing squalor. So fast was the shift Ernesto had little time to think other than accept what he was being taught. No parents left him without options and the church was happy to provide him a home. At least, they were then. Guided by the priests he grew fat on the bible and ceremony ever while dreaming of the black madonna, the Virgin of Guadalupe. In his emerging pubescent years as an altar boy he was shown an angel. Led with four others deep within the frescoed catacombs under the Cathedral Metropolitana, the young Ernesto was brought face to face with a fragment of God. His faith became steadfast in an instant as they beheld the diaphonous glory of Sofia Del Sol… but to them, she was an angel, not a name. The Lictors oversaw the boys initiation into their control and then they awoke, unsure if they dreamt or not. Ernesto took his priestly office late in life at the age of 36, waiting and peaceful under the care of Bishop Gonzalez. Then Bishop Gonzalez died and Bishop Antonio Guerrero placed Ernesto in his own parish in the early 90's. Father Perico began his tending of the conservative flock with a limited hand. No longer were orphans welcomed and much had changed. The church kept to its own affairs though it still served the people's needs. Father Perico soon was known to all in the community and a modicum of distant respect was paid to him. For some reason less people attended his sermons than in other parishes in the surrounding region. Father Perico believed himself not suitable for the job as a priest, but he did as he was led. When even more of his parish refrained from his services more time became available to Father Perico and he walked the streets - something he had never had the opportunity for. He saw the misery on the streets and was touched by it, more differently than one of his status should have been. At first it began with a prostitute junkie, who begged and pleaded in her delirium for money from him. He through her to the ground and limply crumbled, cutting open her head. Father Perico was horrified and hypnotized at the blood. He lightly touched the growing pool of blackly red liquid, then ran. The next few weeks and months intensified. What started with an accident soon grew to an a hobby and an obsession. It was dangerous and several times as he raped and beat prostitutes and junkie females he was nearly caught by pimps or passers-by. Eventually he grew too afraid of his activity. He tried to stop, but his mind kept telling him otherwise. Then he found one of them, naked, withered and helpless. She was known prostitute thought to have died… at least so was local myth. He took her back to the parish, into the basement below. There he chained her and abused her. He watched as she quickly withered - this young girl to the point of skin and bone - what would have been an ancient corpse, but still she moved and never did she die. That is until he stopped his tortures on her after finding another of the girls near the same place now shunned by many in the community. And slowly a collection of women grew… all he tormented until he was tired with each one, and once left, they died. He buried their bodies in the earthen floor. Then he found her… she did not rot like the others, and more she screamed her pain… she was more sensitive than the hollow prostitutes he normally tortured. She was angelic. Father Perico had never achieved the feelings of emotion with women than he did while carving this one up. And in a moment of ecstasy with him and utter pain and terror for her, she appeared… the angel revealed herself, wings and all. Terrified he ran, guilty and excited at the same time. He locked himself away and then heard her coming for him. Beating himself on the vestibule floor he called out the black madonna's name over and over… and the angel never touched him. He found she had fled, but he could not follow, so much was his horror and now the church loomed at him, leering with disappointment. Father Perico's already darkened mind began to break further. appearance: Father Perico is aging quickly. Silver streaks wind through his dark curled hair. Lightly tanned, his face is a mask of lines and creases - a look of hopeful pity. His dress is musty and a little dirty. personality: A dark mental balance, teetering on an edge of an abyss of bestiality with no recovery. Nervous and astute the Father appears as a man new to the world, or afraid of it. Intelligent, every word is contemplated, cold like a killer he has all the guile he needs to get him things someone not normally in his position could get. If anything he has become a stronger individual since his activities… his old parish wouldn't properly recognize him. game-mastering hints: Be concerned and appear nervous. People have a love and respect for you because of your closeness to God. Use that to your advantage. Take ponderence and think heavy upon what you speak. Your words are for her alone, the angel, the one you need back. plot points: Father Perico desires to have Sofia, his angel, back into his prison where he can play out his desires upon her and listen to her screams. He never felt the power of their last experience ever before and he knows he can transcend that to somewhere more infinite. He only has to get her back. And then there's the matter of the bodies buried in his church… with four of them still manacled, left to rot.