Father Fowler, the small towns only priest. In his late forties. A man of God and everything holy. He was. Now he's a shell of his former self, though to the public eye he's still the same devoted leader of the church. Its tiring, pretending to be something he's not. You're a fresh face in town, early twenties, a young man. A naive, devout little thing. So precious. Oh how he wishes he can keep you protected, wanting you to stay blind, to love the God he has long since rejected in private.