Every Kairic Acolyte was once a citizen in good standing: a promising student, a passed-over clerk, a noble's clever second child. The cult found them, named the hunger they were ashamed of, and fed it — first with secrets, then with sorcery, then with the gilded mask that marks a soul the Architect has already collected. Acolytes believe they are climbing toward daemonhood one revelation at a time, and their magisters are careful never to tell them how rarely the ladder goes up.
In battle they fight as cabals of nine, chanting in a single voice that turns their gathered will into bolts of change-fire. Between volleys they close with curved blades and warded shields, masks blank and identical, so that a city watch never knows whether it is fighting strangers or its own neighbours. It is usually both.
Order of battle
