[Cover by Luny on Artstation]
M / F 'Anon' x Zecora

Zealousness, Fervor and Righteousness. The words that rang through Anonberich Von Mussberg's very heart and soul. He was a Witch Hunter; a proud and skilled slayer of evil, the unholy, and the profane.

The lands he called home were a dark place. The beasts that stalked them were grim, it's peoples seeped with distrust, roads preyed upon by all manner of foul invention, with nary a sliver of hope hanging in the air. It was tireless, dirty, thankless work -- but Anonberich would have it no other way. For he was a Witch Hunter, proud and true, raised with a steeled will and an iron clasp of morality. It was his duty, his burden, to return hope to their hearths and light to their eyes, no matter how it must be done.

Master-Class in his role, tutored by the famed Witch Hunters of Old, his Tome of evil creatures and the methods to rid of such were vast, his array of weapons and tools easily matching. Crucifix on his belt, cross on his necklace, pistols under his coat and rapier to his belt; it was through Faith, Fire and Silvered Steel that he would always see the brilliant light of the next morning, and the warmth that came with it.

Vicious village-slaughtering beasts, power-hungry cultists and aberrant abominations had met their end at the tip of his silvered rapier, under the black-powdered hail of his pistols, feet dangling from the noose he hung them with.

Which is why is current predicament was... an odd one.

After traversing through a thick, encroaching fog, he'd emerged in a vibrant forest unfamiliar to himself, where he happened upon... small horses of a variety of colors. That could speak.

The stench of fear was thick upon their coats.

They claimed something was terribly amiss in their usual, sunshine world. That villains ran rampant and unchecked, that their royals had gone silent; so they sought to lead him to their little village. The eclipse that hung in the sky above seemed firm, and unwilling to move; each of their little faces staring up at him with a mixture of fear and desperation. Like they were looking to him for hope.

He checked the book, but talking horses were not a profane act in of itself. He stayed his hand, for now. This entire situation would require some thorough, likely invasive investigation.

Though, the book didn't quite seem the same as it used to be... and some of his tools were... different. Translated. Several entries offered new and strange solutions, several items in his repertoire have been replaced, and his crucifix now bears an additional, sun-like ring to its center.

It was clear these were not his lands... and perhaps, in this realm, not the lord as he knows him.

Hrmph. No matter. Trust in the Tome, trusting your Teachings, trust in the Lord, Anonberich Von Mussberg.
They will not lead you astray.