Dear Diary,
Dropped a keg of Immolater. It's all flat. I guess I should just stick to guns instead. Exorcists dabbling in explosives... guess it just doesn't work out. Wait... heard a bump in the alley...
It's Dr. Q of all people. He said I'm being hunted. Imagine that, a hunters hunting a demon hunter. He looks pretty serious, though, so I agreed to follow him. We went towards the other edge of the alley to exit, and I was about to warn Q about the tripwire I had set up when, well I found out it wasn't there. A Blaydesan clone had tripped it, it was still skewered to the trap on the far wall to the left, and from the looks of it, the soul had only dissipated recently. As in it was there about 20 hours. Yeah... I think I'll go with Q. He said 'hunters,' ergo, more than one, and though I could take on two, I don't know exactly how many Blaydesan sent.
I complained the whole way there though. "Why does Blaydesan get clones? Why can't I have clones? Why don't I have the power to conjure demons whenever the hell I feel like it while I sit back on my a** and puppeteer them as extentions of my clearly overpowered godlike abilities?" Then I got hit with a muffler. An irritated clone too far away to do anything else threw it at me, and managed to hit me from a few miles away. Don't ask me how I know, I'm an exorcist. I know when demons do things. By the way, ow.
Nyrk Saron, Rex Exorcista