Quintten's body finally gives way under the rain of blows. Leaving him only the time afforded to the dying to say their last peace.

Quintten: Your faith proved stronger, and I won't deceive you in my defeat. These mortals still in the pews are still alive if only barely. If you get them off of these grounds they should regain consciousness shortly, but will be in need of sustenance afterward. Also the guildhall adjacent to this temple serves as lodging for those oathbound warriors fighting against Fafnir and his dragon-blighted creatures at a castle several miles west of here. Few if any remain now.

Goodnight now, I pray your patron argues as steadfastly for me as you did for these souls.

With that the priest dies, collapsing in a heap of bones and black ichor. One by one the blue lights in his lanterns and the eyes of those sitting in the pew snuff out. As each of their eyes clear those seated in the pews begin breathing suddenly as though they are no longer accustomed to it, but remain unconscious despite this stimulus. Last of these is the specter still hovering over its master's corpse.

Specter: No, no, no I'll do anything anything to keep from going back to him I-

His pleads cut off the specter evaporates into mist just as the light in his lantern goes out.