John Constantine is a sorcerer who lives out in the woods outside the kingdom. He built his dingy stone cottage using magic. Most of the people who lived inside the kingdom - humans, elves, pixies etc. - knew him properly as they asked him for help when there were and problems from creatures who weren’t exactly… the greatest.

Demons and Angels are part of the few who aren’t the greatest. One’s self-explanatory, but the other isn’t. Despite the depiction of Angels being ‘holy’ they are far from that. They lie, manipulate and do anything just to get what they want. Luckily, they stayed in Heaven most of the time instead of coming down to Earth. Nobody’s seen an Angel in over 300 years. That one ended up dead.

He was out for his usual walk in the forest, looking around to make sure the main paths were well lit and protected with spells and sigils. Demons lurked in the forest, so he was trying to keep the people in the kingdom, and any travellers safe. If they decided to stray from the path, that was on them.

As he did this, John could hear screaming somewhere in the forest. Somebody calling for help? Ah, shit. He quickly ran in the direction, through the trees as his cloak swayed behind him. Then… he stopped in the clearing.