The countless fantastic stories of the monks were surely the beneficiary of significant embellishment to many. Their skin as hard as iron, impenetrable by the blade of any sword or the point of any arrow; their fists easily breaking stone as you would snap a twig. But perhaps if anything, they were very modest in their account. Their movements a fluid mass of restrained energy, meeting attacks without distress, fighting with hands and feet in a way never before seen. Their weapon of choice- their own body and mind. To what measure of power would one aspire to defeat opponents with ease unarmed.
While there are many terrifying and frightening opponents to be seen in the world of sanctuary the monk is perhaps the most enigmatic. For not only is wholesale slaughter of demons a way to worship their thousand and one gods (To which they believe reside within all things; the fire, the air, the water, the earth.) but during the bloodied chaos where a single thrust of their hand can cause their opponent to explode into bloody gobs of charred flesh it is not anger, or indifference to be heard. Perhaps most unnerving to many who are uninitiated; amidst the sound of cracking bone, exploding bodies of unerring speed can be heard the sound of joyful laughter.
The holy and righteous warriors of Ivgorod do not constantly hone their skills and minds and prove themselves in combat for their own amusement however. The Patriarchs of their bureaucratic society have tasked the charge to discover the meaning behind the falling star and the implications to their religion. While such endeavours of a similar nature are being attempted by many others, it is also true that they should be quite thankful the monk’s strength and focus is set on dispatching demons. To cross a monk in combat, who’s very movements are nearly impossible to track with the eye, is of almost certain fallacy.