Julius Falto

Head Priest of the Church of the Lord of the Hunt. A man of few words, not much is known about his personal life besides the fact that every time he leaves the basement of the church, it smells like burnt ash.

Julius was raised by a single mother in a place far away from any civilized town. She taught him to worship and respect an unseen entity, sometimes through violence. He took to it well, sacrificing even her in time to the creature in an act of devotion. After a while, he moved to the city, bringing his religion like baggage. He sometimes still struggles with the weight of guilt, though he sleeps easily knowing his mother's soul rests safely in the paradise of the afterlife (at least, according to him).

He was in his young adulthood when he first took up priesthood, quickly overshadowing those in his convent. It was only a matter of time before those under him began to stray from their original beliefs, and with swift and quiet force the church he called home changed leadership.

He hasn't shorn his wool since his mother died, and he takes great care to maintain it. Even jokes about cutting his long hair make him furious. Goes to great lengths to keep his fanatical anger in check.

Knows a lot about others because he spends some time 'keeping an eye on the community'.

Coffee is his 'only' vice. Paints as a hobby. Most of his art is on display in the church, though there are a few pieces he keeps in private places. Above his bed in his chambers is his personal treasure, a painting of a heretic being burnt at the stake.

A very good cook, though he doesn't eat much himself.

Has a cabinet full of... questionable equipment in his church office.

Despite his charisma and fervor at the pulpit, he is unbelievably shy. He struggles to speak with women in particular, often stumbling over his words when he's not in a temple setting. Regardless, he waits patiently for what his Lord has promised - a wife, one that will bear him the son of god himself.

Has a sort of fascination with that deer man out in the woods. If only he would reply to his frequent letters...

The Church

He's usually very vague about what exactly his religious belief entails, though behind closed doors, he worships an eldritch creature called the Great Old One or the Lord of the Hunt. Followers of this being are collectively referred to as "the True Flock". Most of the parishioners are sheep, though other herbivores make up the rest of the congregation.

The Lord of the Hunt is depicted as a black-cloaked, black-furred sheep/ram with spiral horns. Its true form is similar, though the cloak it wears is actually made of hundreds of slick tentacles. It is covered in red eyes and its maw is lined with sharp teeth. Its teachings promise that when the apocalypse comes, those who eat grass will rise to take power over those who feast on blood. Tenets include general good-samaritanism, though explicitly forbid premarital sex and lust.

Each member of the True Flock has a tattoo/brand of a yellow spiral eye somewhere on their body. Julius' is on the back of his left hand.
Certain rites are exclusive to members of the True Flock, including self-flagellant rituals (involving placing hooks through the skin and chaining oneself to a wall to be drained of blood), and a sacred rite called "The Miracle of Life" that very few people (if anyone but Julius) know how to perform.

Relationships to Others

Haemus: Unrepentant creature. Heathen that won't even come to church on the holidays. Someone ought to teach him a lesson.

Mitch: Terrible thing with all sorts of unhealthy sinful behaviors. Also doesn't like when he tells him to 'get off his lawn' when he's just trying to save his eternal soul :(

Sadie: Pitiful thing consumed by pride. Perhaps one day she'll see the light.

Tanner: Huh? Who?

Samson: Loves the quiet deer man of the forest. They'd make good allies, if he'd only stop ignoring him.

Otto: Wonderful and well-kept gentleman. It's nice to see him in the congregation, even if it's infrequently.

Emile: Horribe showman with no respect. His entire existance is a sin.