"People of Gotham, I salute you!" It has been a long time coming, but the Deacon Joseph Blackfire is once again on a podium in Gotham square, masses around him, and being played to televisions and radios across the city. All have heard of how the holy man has cleaned up the streets in a violent yet effective pogrom of the colourful psychopaths that
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"Damnable mortal swine! We had this city in our hands!" The Monk yelled in a mixture of rage and indignation. "Fine, he wants a war, a war he shall have!"
He turns to his attendent.
"Contact Hush and Prometheus, tell them the time to kill this wretch is now! Gather as many of the brethen as you can, tonight we feast on Blackfire and his flock!"
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"Like a rat fleeing a sinking ship," The monk utters darkly at Prometheus' disappearance. "Then again, given the deteriorating situation i don't suppose I can blame he too much.
"A wise plan," The Monk then glares at the destroyed television. "How in the Infinite Pits is he doing this?"
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"Then so shall it be." The Monk said eagerly. While he preferred behind-the-scenes manipulation, it had been a very long time since he participated in a war like this. "Brethen! Today we we will make it known that Gotham, City of the Night, City of Sin, will and shall forever belong to us!"
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"Death to Blackfire, death to his flock!"
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With knowledge of Blackfire's location in hand, The Monk leads his hordes to find the corrupt deacon.
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