The Moore House crouched in the graveyard, radiating its own kind of well-maintained imposition on the landscape around it. The whitewashed boards stand out in stark contrast to the previous dereliction of the building itself. But in such ways Churches reflect the personality of their incumbants. The one before Sidor had decayed and lost his mind.
Sidor on the other hand, was horrifyingly sane.
Which was probably not all that reassuring.
It just meant that he would be completely grounded in reality at all points while he was talking.
The Nosferatu Bishop waited in the meeting room in the Moore House, idly considering the current impression the new arrival had given. It was precisely one hundred percent better than the last new arrival, considering he hadn't been forced to explain the First Tradition, again.
He regarded this with caution.
It was unwise to jump to any sort of conclusion, after all.