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OOC: Rather than struggling with the post for longer still I've decided to give you the plain version; there'll be other occasions.
Inquisitor Marcos of Snowdale - 98/98
As around him the first magics and arrows flew, the inquisitor took the warhammer firmly in hand, well recalling the outcome of his last engagement. This time, the foe was no grand mage or priest of the foul practices, however, but a mindless construct forged so long ago. They knew not honour, nor fear, nor evil, any more than a wolf too blind by hunger to avoid the homes of men. Yet unlike the wolf these were unaware of their suffering, and brought to here with a purpose, whether for good or ill.
Indeed he did recall many a tale where the bold warriors fought their fights only to discover they were the good men they had slain. With a glance at the horror, and considering the spirit's aura which radiated no particular malice, he knew this was not the case, and he strode into battle assured of its inexorable necessity.
As the smith pounds his metal into whatever shape desired, the inquisitor swung his hammer, aiming for a twisted lump of junk.
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