Brother Antony followed Sir Brightglory into the Hunter's society without a word and looked to be just as out of place as the metallic warrior was. He wore a vibrant uniform, one that once belonged to a Renaissance Pikeman. It wasn't just for looks, though. It served as functional kevlar.

He cringed at the harsh reactions of the hunters and peeked out from behind the much bulkier Stark and spoke, his voice quiet and meek.

"Um, err, yes - apologies for breaking down your door, but Sir Brightglory felt in neccesary, and he is wise in his decisions, " he said, his voice carrying the hint of an apology with it. "I am Brother Antony, Sir Brightglory's squire," introducing himself with a bow.

"We, or, I will um, pay for your, uh - I think you will find that our assistance, is well, it more than repays you. Oh, uh, I think I should let Sir Brightglory explain. That would be best," he said, waving his hands fiercly as he found himself wandering. Inquisitors can't wander. They need to be firm and decisive. He reminded himself of that.