A few eyes wandered over to the sixteen-year-old when he entered, subtle glances that weren't subtle enough. No conversations stopped, but Ty could feel the topics slowly shift to speculation on why a young cleric thought he had any business here. He met the eyes of the few so bold to continue watching him. They looked away quickly. He tended to have that affect on people.

“How can I help you, young sir?” The bartender, at least, hadn't forgotten his manners. Ty looked into his mind- the man expected him to order something cheap like a lemon hot top or a shining apple.

“A shining apple, please.” Ty obliged him. Technically, he wouldn't be old enough to buy alcohol for another two years, and while he could simply ignore that law it felt wrong to break a rule the common, god-fearing folk had to abide by. But today he was on a mission for a power higher than the mere laws of mortal men. It was easy enough to stay in the bartender's mind and have the man to forget to check for identification. As his drink was made, Ty began to worm his power through the minds of the Aurora's patrons. Greed, pride, selfish desire and perverse sadistic pleasure dominated. The boy wrinkled his nose. His predecessor had not been up to the job if the nobles, those who were supposed to be second in piety only to the pope and the clerics, had fallen so far in sixteen short years.

Filth.

All conversation stopped, some choked on words they'd lost the ability to say. For the first time since entering Aurora's, Ty smiled. He'd been gentle on his entrance not to alarm anyone, but now that he had them they'd feel their sins. He turned their heads to look at him as he stood.

“You all disgust me.” He forced them to their knees. “You sit here in your finery and your comfort, plotting against each other, betraying each other, sending lesser men to die for your own personal vendettas. You've forgotten who you are.” He pressed on memories, bringing back the history lessons that taught why the noble class was formed. “Your forefathers were the beloved of our god, those closest and most loyal to him.” His voice grew louder, sharper, “and look what you've done to their legacy. Material wealth is fleeting, you've traded your souls for...what? Shiny rocks and fermented fruit?”

He made a broad, sweeping gesture with his arms and heard their mental groans from the pain of his anger. He softened his voice, but not the pressure on their minds. “You've led each other astray, because you're weak, spiteful creatures. But it's not your fault. You had no leadership. The man before me was weak, licentious and unworthy of his mantle. He let you become the vermin the devils tempt you to be. But I'm here now.”

He stabbed again, forcefully ripping away at the layers of greed and desire inside them.

“It's a new era, and you all will be the heralds of it. When the nobles strayed, the middle class followed. Soon even the destitute might abandon our god, but we won't allow that, will we?”

One by one, they collapsed onto the floor.

“No, we are the dawn of a new age. You were lost, but I've found you now, and you'll help me find the rest of our flock.” He relaxed his hold on them, withdrawing completely. “Together, we will spread god's word to the world.”

He placed his coins on the bar for his untouched drink. It would go, he was sure, to a charity. The patrons would wake in a few minutes and by then he'd be on his way back to the Vatican. He wasn't worried about his absence, he knew they'd seen the light.