Smike

Heavensfall | A WW2 Mutant Alien Apocalypse Thingamajig

Seems dope as shit, consider this a tentative tag

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

They were all deciding to showboat then, comparing weapons and making promises of death and destruction. Woe be to any Imperial who they came across for the enemy would surely be boiled to death by all the hot air their little kill team was spewing. The psycho gunner was particularly obnoxious, her big gun apparently compensating for a lack of brains. Perhaps this mission was actually designed to weed out some of the dead weights, cull a few morons from the herd?

Victoria dumped the soap shavings she had collected into her flammable brew, the animal fat the perfect coagulant to make flames stick to whatever they touched. With a rag stuffed in to serve as a stopper her homemade firebomb was complete, ready to spread fear and pain through the trenches. The Stick Worshipper was making some stupid facial expression as if to impress upon everyone how badass he was for using a shovel as a weapon, a display that seemed adorably juvenile coming from someone so small. She didn't even bother to say anything, just flashed him an evil grin as she thudded the sharpened edge of her own shovel into the table.

"I like mine sharp, lets 'em bleed a little." Relying on sheer concussive force when you could make a perfectly functional axe was fairly stupid in her not-so humble opinion. It demonstrated a lack of resourcefulness that Victoria didn't respect. Why have one weapon when you have two? The blunt end for smacking skulls, the edges for everything else.



Alex kept smoking, taking his time enjoying of the few pleasures he was able to enjoy during the war. As long as the family kept sending him cigars he could keep on fighting for as long the Federation required him to. The methods and motivations of the top brass would forever be a mystery to him but it wasn't a sergeant's place to question orders unless they would put his troops in undue danger. Everyone here was competent enough to handle a little trench raid, there was no need to worry.

Well, no more need than usual. The odds were pretty good that some of them wouldn't be making it back alive but that was war. After watching his entire regiment melt into nothingness under the withering fire of entrenched machine guns Alex wasn't going to stress himself out over losing a man or two.

What did bother him was the attitude of the other Darscen. She had been there during Isaac's card game and he was vaguely aware of her name, Mehetabel if he remembered correctly. Her insubordination was bad enough on its own but the real issue was her bloodlust. "You will be doing no such thing Private."

His cigar was now pinched tightly between two fingers as he focused on the gunner, a coldness creeping into his voice that fit the nature of command. "You will treat every captured enemy with dignity and do no harm to them unless they attempt to escape. Do anything else and I will personally drag you off for court-martial. That goes for everyone else as well."

His gaze shifted from the object of ire to the sapper to the Occie and then finally to the second sniper, holding on each for just a moment before continuing on.

"It's a damn shame that I even have to say this. If I catching you looting, abusing captives or doing anything else that can be considered depraved punishment will swift.

With the lecture over Alex went back to smoking, smoothing down nonexistent creases in his uniform. He hated playing the hardass but sometimes it had to be done.

"Eh, it makes sense. You have a carbine and understand how to move in trenches and I suppose they needed to assign someone as lead officer so that's why I'm here." He deflected the engineer's pointed concern because to do anything else would be a dereliction of duty. Listen to the Captain's orders, understand the limitations of them and work around them as best as possible, that was his job.

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

Oh joy, trench clearing duty. The shitty job that the piece-of-shit-Captain assigned to those stupid, disposable or psychotic enough to be good at it. Victoria wasn't surprised that this sort of work fell on her shoulders, she had done her best to prove herself as overburdened with those qualities and with her having found those battleplans, well...someone must have taken note of her dutiful can-do attitude. Wow, she was so proud she could just fucking puke.

The Oceanic was passing the time before the raid with art, scribbling on the torn off piece of paper that had been her focus for the past little bit. An amorphous blob of a blanket with an unshaven face peering out, a stupid little helmet perched atop and a few motion lines to denote shivering and she had a fairly accurate picture of Jean the Coward. In the interest of fairness she matched it with a caricature of herself, all sharp teeth and crazy eyes with gnarled claws for fingers. Victoria the Mad Rat and Jean the Frightened Mouse, a comedy duo worthy of vaudeville.

The Midget spoke and reminded her that she was among other poor bastards, Victoria setting down her well-chewed pencil to begin going through her kit. "Carbine, pistol, knife, shovel..." She laid them out one by one on the table, well-worn instruments ready and waiting to be put to use. "My armor and ammo obviously and something I like to cook up myself."

She finished the rest of her bottle in one quick gulp, cheap wine that she had been nursing the past two days. Out from her pack came the greasy jam tin filled with lamp oil and turpentine, the mixture freehand poured into the bottle with nary a drop spilled. Soap was next, a greyish lump produced from a pocket and shaved until a small pile of slivers formed.

"Burns 'em right out."

Was she looking forward to seeing it in action as much as her manic grin would suggest? No. Yes. Maybe? It was hard to tell how much of her thirst for violence was acting and how much was genuine, her mind cracking in too many places to keep track. Just keep playing the gangster turned soldier, the woman who belonged on the battlefield and hope no one called her out as the frightened child she was, that was her mission.



In an example of the infinite wisdom bestowed upon the upper echelons someone had assigned a sniper to a trench raid in the evening. Alex was a good shot, a damn good shot, but even he would be limited by both dusk and the constraints of space. Trying to take potshots from across No Man's Land with the sun down would result in friendly fire as often it did an enemy killed and it wasn't like his scoped rifle was designed with close-quarters combat in mind.

So what did that leave him with? The Turner-Cable, a gift from his father that had been more symbolic than anything. His saber, a straight pattern made for stabbing and so infinitely more useful in tight trenches than the Europan models that necessitated wide swings. And Valkur, a hulking brute with sharp teeth and hatred for mankind restrained by nothing more than Alex's force of will. Absolute barbarism personified in the form of three items, the industrial scale slaughter of the conflict embodied by beast, blade and bullet.

"Valkur can handle whatever the Imps can throw at him, I'm just going to follow behind and put the stragglers out of their misery." He smiled at his own bravado, amusing himself at the thought of the enemy fleeing for the hills chased by his monstrous hound. "But seriously, usually I'd be providing you overwatch but I doubt that's feasible under the circumstances."

He could feel his grin becoming bitter, the consummate professional allowing himself the slightest curl of his lip before removing the expression entirely like a good little tin soldier. "We'll make it work." It was his duty to be an example for his juniors, no bellyaching could be heard coming out of his mouth. "The raid itself doesn't worry me too much, the real trouble's going to be getting back to our lines with a couple prisoners in tow."

Alex's only show of nervousness was lighting up a cigar, sweetly addictive smoke sucked into his lungs like some kind of improper savage. Little violations of decorum like that were how he stayed sane, the weight of the smoke brought deep into his body where it would hopefully be absorbed faster.

DIVINE INTERVENTION

From the moment she had kicked the door open Ekaterine had her shotgun trained on that abominable "Ryan" character, ready and waiting for the moment she could unload on the sly bastard. Her comrades from the other churches were soft, willing to give quarter when nothing but prompt destruction should have been offered. While it was true that there was goodness in offering tolerance to a foe in hopes that they surrendered intolerance was often the required trait. She had offered no quarter during her careers as a soldier of both God and the Red Army because her enemies had never deserved any.

But in the interest of preserving her relationship with her softer coworkers Ekaterine had restrained herself. She listened and scowled as the snake simpered and acted the part of the charmer, watched her brothers waste their breath on the scum in an effort everyone there knew would be futile. All the way that damned armor kept playing, profaning a fine instrument with its twisted touch.

Then a third party had burst in, a stranger babbling in Russian who had presumably been the one firing shots. He had come alone? An idiot then, soft in the skull and in need of a babysitter. "Yes he is." Her frown only deepened as she regarded the idiot in the cassock. Another Catholic, perhaps drunk on sacrificial wine. "Вы придурок! Ты пытаешься быть убитым?" There was little time for her fire off any other sort of rebuke, Ryan simply dematerializing before more of the Devil's minions rushed in.

The time for parley had ended, now was the moment of decisive action. As the Satanists charged Ekaterine simply howled, channeling all her fury into a scream that could match anything produced by man or demon. The sound was harsh, hateful, as hard on her throat as it was on the enemy's ears and as Satan's whores got closer to her with their overwrought gardening implements it died down into unhinged laughter.

They wore armor and so thought that they had an advantage but were sorely disappointed, the first hook slicing through her robe but bouncing harmlessly off the steel breastplate she wore underneath. Stepping back to avoid the second blow the Stravaphore raised her weapon and fired in one fluid motion, an explosion of holy powder blasting the fool who had swung for her chest.

He was injured but not out, the physical protection provide by his infernal armor not enough to defend him from the Lord's hate that the pellets had been imbued with. Ekaterine racked the pump and fired again, burning a hole through her victim before getting interrupted by yet another cultist. That attack too did little, the impact unpleasant in the extreme but causing her nothing more than bruises.

Defended by her faith she was free to press the advantage, swinging her weapon around to stab right through a chink in the billhook wielder's armor, his cry of pain drowned out by her triumphant shriek.

"Kill them slowly my brothers! Let them suffer on Earth before being kicked back to their master!"

Yu's incense was intoxicating, its smell as empowering to her as it was sickening to the enemy. It cloud all thoughts except those of violence, removed any words from her vocabulary except maim, smite and kill. Putting all her weight into the butt of her shotgun Ekaterine drove the Satanist into the ground, his dying gurgles much more beautiful to her ears than the concerto that had been playing earlier.

DIVINE INTERVENTION

The fight ended as abruptly as it began, the devils shredded by lead and mulched under car tires as they deserved. The sights, the sounds the sheer rush of adrenaline always lifted Ekaterine's spirits and this time was no different. She hummed to her herself as the car pulled up to the Castillian mansion, fingers working shells into her shotgun to replace the ones she had spent. Three blasts fired meant that she had fifty-seven more to go. Would it be enough to see her through this next test? Perhaps it would and perhaps it wouldn't. There were still her pistol, bottles and boots after that, each a more than serviceable weapon against Hell's legions.

Father Alistair returned the Abbess's Makarov and Ekaterine took it with a smile, nodding as he complimented the weapon. "You used it well. It might be worth looking into acquiring a firearm of your own, I'm sure the Holy See has something it's arsenal." There was no way the Papal Guards still only used halberds right?

The plan was simple enough, no different from the house-to-house fighting she had taken part in during the battle for Stalingrad. Go in, shoot every last monster they found and then leave to lick their wounds and let someone else handle the cleanup. The CIA spooks and FBI men in black were cold-hearted imperialists but at least they had the budget for burn crews.

It felt to the Mother to deal with the door and she did in her usual no nonsense way. Alien geometry and intricate ivory carvings meant little when one could simply kick it in. The interior of the structure was almost baffling in its ostentatiousness, thick rugs and ornate furniture that would have been unthinkable to a girl growing up on a Georgian farm. There had been some truth then to the Soviet's propaganda if Americans could live fill their homes with so much useless stuff while their countrymen starved.

The song being played had a name but whatever it was passed through one ear and out the other. It was information totally superfluous to the work at the hand. They were at the door to the dining room and whoever or whatever was inside it needed to die. Ekaterine took her shotgun in hand and kicked in yet another door.

DIVINE INTERVENTION

The sound of demons was perhaps unexpected but it certainly wasn't unwelcome. If the devils were already seeking to throw themselves in the path of God's executioners then she would not begrudge the chance to die violently. As hellish shrieks howled out in the night Ekaterine answered with one of her own, a fury filled roar that made her sound more beast than woman. This was not the time for love nor mercy, she would embody only the virtue of hateful justice.

"Now is the time for action my brothers! Now is the time to unleash the Lord's wrath! Drive them into the ground so that their rotten entrails maybe swallowed by the earth!" The zeal in her soul and fire in her belly was evident for all to see, the usually serene look she wore replaced by a feral grin. This was what she was good at! This was her calling! This was righteous.

As the driver shot one rider and Alistair grappled with another Ekaterine pumped her shotgun and kicked the passenger door open to deal with the creatures attempting to ram them off the road. The first blast split one of their heads into foul chunks, splattering the road with its lifeforce as it flopped over like a bag of wet cement. The second hit the other "centaur" square in the chest, the holy load burning a hole through its blackened heart and out through its back.

A good first effort but the fight was not over yet. The crunch of metal above meant that one of the creatures had made its way up top while the crack of bone warned her that the driver was in danger. As any compassionate soul would do she prioritized the human over the car, racking her 12 gauge and firing behind the headrest. The spray of blessed buckshot tore off the demon's arm at the elbow before ripping into cursed tendons and muscle. Whatever twisted organs it had in the "human" part of its torso had been reduced to smoking shreds, the pounding of its hooves become erratic as it bled to death standing up.

"Back to Lucifer! Dabrundit tkvens dats’q’evlil sameposhi!"

The slip into her mother tongue was a natural part of the hate Ekaterine felt flowing through her, the higher level functions needed for speaking English temporarily superseded by the duty to slaughter. They hadn't even made it to their destination and already she had three kills to her name? Such a productive hunt made her spirit sing with mad joy.

The request for a firearm shook her out of total mindlessness however, the Mother dropping her shotgun to pull something out of her bag.
"Here Father, eight rounds. Make them count and please be careful with it. It holds a special value to me."

She held extended the Makarov butt first, trusting Alistair to do what was needed with it.

DIVINE INTERVENTION

Mother Ekaterine

Ordinis Sancti Exorcistarum Christi

Ordinatus Capitulum Exorcistae de New Mexico

	NAME: Stavrophore Ekaterine ______________ AGE: 45 ______________ DATE OF BIRTH: January 10, 1925 ______________ FAITH: Eastern Orthodox ______________ NATIONALITY: Soviet, from the Georgian SSR ______________

PERSONALITY
^{______________}
A veteran of the war against the Nazis as well as the one against devils Ekaterine is well-versed in battling sin. Her days in the Red Army instilled a total lack of fear that bordered on irrational recklessness that was later tempered by her time fighting demons across the Soviet Union and United States. In her mind there is neither room for hesitation nor impatience, she takes in the situation and makes the call before sticking through it until the end. The Lord's work is a calling of the utmost importance and any time wasted on overreactions or inactions is an affront to His name.

Her devotion to Heaven is what keeps Ekaterine going after a life of loss and betrayal. Made bitter by the early loss of her parents and the harsh treatment she received from her aunt and uncle the senseless violence she witnessed in the Great Patriotic War nearly broke her, left a wandering wreck who quiet literally stumbled into monastery life. Even now after being forced to flee to the U.S during the anti-religious purges of the 60s Mother Ekaterine's faith is what keeps her from spiraling into a dark place. She sees her work hunting the Serpent's minions as her way of giving back to the Lord for saving her life.

Just as she takes pride (in a sense anyway) in her duties mentoring the younger sisters or feeding the poor so to does she feel good during the hunt. While a lust for the blood of man would certainly be cause for troubled self-reflection she sees no fault in enjoying herself when driving the demons out of the kingdoms of man. Prone to making promises of great violence against her enemy in Russian, Georgian and English Ekaterine does her best to make good on each and every one of them.

Height
^{______________}
6’3”

EQUIPMENT
^{______________}
-Ithaca 37: Five shells of twelve gauge absolution, a venerable weapon that serves a blessed purpose. Mother Ekaterine's trench gun and attached bayonet were custom made and consecrated for the purpose of demon hunting.
-Stechkin APS:A personal weapon smuggled over during her flight from the USSR. Most people would be unable to handle the recoil from this blessed machine pistol without its optional stock but Ekaterine's strength of belief (as well as well strength of body) gives her the discipline required to wield it.
-Holy Oils: A bit of the Oil of Catechumens used in baptisms, some soap and good old gasoline mixed together in glass bottles to be lit and thrown. The result is a blessed blaze that sticks to demons and melts them where they stand. When asked about the propriety of such a weapon the Stavrophore holds that if the Father above took issue then he would surely show her a better way.
-SN-46 "Steel Bib":When Satan told the Lord Christ to throw himself from the top of the temple Christ rebuked him by saying "Again it is written, 'You shall not put the Lord, your God to the test.'" Likewise Ekaterine relies on not just faith but solid steel worn under her cassock to guard her body from the enemy. Soviet machine work was combined with Christian blessings to forge armor that can withstand bullets, blades and blood magic. Up to a point anyway.
-Duty Bag:A veshmeshok filled with everything a demon hunter on the go might need. A copy of the Scripture, icons of Christ and the Virgin Mary, a change of clothes, money, and snacks as well as spare ammo, oils, salts, consecrated iron filings and a Makarov pistol that once belonged to her abbess back in the Soviet Union.

CAPACITY
^{______________}

Already a trained soldier before entering the Church's demon hunters Eketerine is a skilled gunslinger, fitting considering that she works in the land of the gangster and cowboy. She excels at meeting the enemy in close quarters and blasting them back to Hell with her shotgun and pistol or simply spilling their infernal guts with a twist of her bayonet. Her work as a farmhand set the ground for building a great physical strength that, while hidden by nun's outfit, enables her to sprint with her gear and crush the skulls of the damned beneath her boots.

Her spiritual strength on the other hand is what keeps her going. No matter how bad things get, no matter how much misery and sin she has to wallow through, she just keeps going. After going through the killing fields of the Eurasian steppes without God's light, how can she allow herself to break against the mere denizens of Hell with Him guiding her aim?

DIVINE INTERVENTION

Mother Ekaterine

Ordinis Sancti Exorcistarum Christi

Ordinatus Capitulum Exorcistae de New Mexico

	NAME: Stavrophore Ekaterine ______________ AGE: 45 ______________ DATE OF BIRTH: January 10, 1925 ______________ FAITH: Eastern Orthodox ______________ NATIONALITY: Soviet, from the Georgian SSR ______________

PERSONALITY
^{______________}
A veteran of the war against the Nazis as well as the one against devils Ekaterine is well-versed in battling sin. Her days in the Red Army instilled a total lack of fear that bordered on irrational recklessness that was later tempered by her time fighting demons across the Soviet Union and United States. In her mind there is neither room for hesitation nor impatience, she takes in the situation and makes the call before sticking through it until the end. The Lord's work is a calling of the utmost importance and any time wasted on overreactions or inactions is an affront to His name.

Her devotion to Heaven is what keeps Ekaterine going after a life of loss and betrayal. Made bitter by the early loss of her parents and the harsh treatment she received from her aunt and uncle the senseless violence she witnessed in the Great Patriotic War nearly broke her, left a wandering wreck who quiet literally stumbled into monastery life. Even now after being forced to flee to the U.S during the anti-religious purges of the 60s Mother Ekaterine's faith is what keeps her from spiraling into a dark place. She sees her work hunting the Serpent's minions as her way of giving back to the Lord for saving her life.

Just as she takes pride (in a sense anyway) in her duties mentoring the younger sisters or feeding the poor so to does she feel good during the hunt. While a lust for the blood of man would certainly be cause for troubled self-reflection she sees no fault in enjoying herself when driving the demons out of the kingdoms of man. Prone to making promises of great violence against her enemy in Russian, Georgian and English Ekaterine does her best to make good on each and every one of them.

EQUIPMENT
^{______________}
-Ithaca 37: Five shells of twelve gauge absolution, an venerable weapon that serves a blessed purpose. Mother Ekaterine's trench gun and attached bayonet were custom made and consecrated for the purpose of demon hunting.
-Stechkin APS:A personal weapons smuggled over during her flight from the USSR. Most people would be unable to handle the recoil from this blessed machine pistol without its optional stock but Ekaterine's strength of belief (as well as well strength of body) gives her the discipline required to wield it.
-Holy Oils: A bit of the Oil of Catechumens used in baptisms, some soap and good old gasoline mixed together in glass bottles to be lit and thrown. The result is a blessed blaze that sticks to demons and melts them where they stand. When asked about the propriety of such a weapon the Stavrophore holds that if the Father above took issue then he would surely show her a better way.
-SN-46 "Steel Bib":When Satan told the Lord Christ to throw himself from the top of the temple Christ rebuked him by saying "Again it is written, 'You shall not put the Lord, your God to the test.'" Likewise Ekaterine relies on not just faith but solid steel worn under her cassock to guard her body from the enemy. Soviet machine work was combined with Christian blessings to forge armor that can withstand bullets, blades and blood magic. Up to a point anyway.
-Duty Bag:A veshmeshok filled with everything a demon hunter on the go might need. A copy of the Scripture, icons of Christ and the Virgin Mary, a change of clothes, money, and snacks as well as spare ammo, oils, salts, consecrated iron filings and a Makarov pistol that once belonged to her abbess back in the Soviet Union.

CAPACITY
^{______________}

Already a trained soldier before entering the Church's demon hunters Eketerine is a skilled gunslinger, fitting considering that she works in the land of the gangster and cowboy. She excels at meeting the enemy in close quarters and blasting them back to Hell with her shotgun and pistol or simply spilling their infernal guts with a twist of her bayonet. Her work as a farmhand set the ground for building a great physical strength that, while hidden by nun's outfit, enables her to sprint with her gear and crush the skulls of the damned beneath her boots.

Her spiritual strength on the other hand is what keeps her going. No matter how bad things get, no matter how much misery and sin she has to wallow through, she just keeps going. After going through the killing fields of the Eurasian steppes without God's light, how can she allow herself to break against the mere denizens of Hell with Him guiding her aim?

Smike's Sheets

Mother Ekaterine

Ordinis Sancti Exorcistarum Christi

Ordinatus Capitulum Exorcistae de New Mexico

	NAME: Stavrophore Ekaterine ______________ AGE: 45 ______________ DATE OF BIRTH: January 10, 1925 ______________ FAITH: Eastern Orthodox ______________ NATIONALITY: Soviet, from the Georgian SSR ______________

PERSONALITY
^{______________}
A veteran of the war against the Nazis as well as the one against devils Ekaterine is well-versed in battling sin. Her days in the Red Army instilled a total lack of fear that bordered on irrational recklessness that was later tempered by her time fighting demons across the Soviet Union and United States. In her mind there is neither room for hesitation nor impatience, she takes in the situation and makes the call before sticking through it until the end. The Lord's work is a calling of the utmost importance and any time wasted on overreactions or inactions is an affront to His name.

Her devotion to Heaven is what keeps Ekaterine going after a life of loss and betrayal. Made bitter by the early loss of her parents and the harsh treatment she received from her aunt and uncle the senseless violence she witnessed in the Great Patriotic War nearly broke her, left a wandering wreck who quiet literally stumbled into monastery life. Even now after being forced to flee to the U.S during the anti-religious purges of the 60s Mother Ekaterine's faith is what keeps her from spiraling into a dark place. She sees her work hunting the Serpent's minions as her way of giving back to the Lord for saving her life.

Just as she takes pride (in a sense anyway) in her duties mentoring the younger sisters or feeding the poor so to does she feel good during the hunt. While a lust for the blood of man would certainly be cause for troubled self-reflection she sees no fault in enjoying herself when driving the demons out of the kingdoms of man. Prone to making promises of great violence against her enemy in Russian, Georgian and English Ekaterine does her best to make good on each and every one of them.

EQUIPMENT
^{______________}
-Ithaca 37: Five shells of twelve gauge absolution, an venerable weapon that serves a blessed purpose. Mother Ekaterine's trench gun and attached bayonet were custom made and consecrated for the purpose of demon hunting.
-Stechkin APS:A personal weapons smuggled over during her flight from the USSR. Most people would be unable to handle the recoil from this blessed machine pistol without its optional stock but Ekaterine's strength of belief (as well as well strength of body) gives her the discipline required to wield it.
-Holy Oils: A bit of the Oil of Catechumens used in baptisms, some soap and good old gasoline mixed together in glass bottles to be lit and thrown. The result is a blessed blaze that sticks to demons and melts them where they stand. When asked about the propriety of such a weapon the Stavrophore holds that if the Father above took issue then he would surely show her a better way.
-SN-46 "Steel Bib":When Satan told the Lord Christ to throw himself from the top of the temple Christ rebuked him by saying "Again it is written, 'You shall not put the Lord, your God to the test.'" Likewise Ekaterine relies on not just faith but solid steel worn under her cassock to guard her body from the enemy. Soviet machine work was combined with Christian blessings to forge armor that can withstand bullets, blades and blood magic. Up to a point anyway.
-Duty Bag:A veshmeshok filled with everything a demon hunter on the go might need. A copy of the Scripture, icons of Christ and the Virgin Mary, a change of clothes, money, and snacks as well as spare ammo, oils, salts, consecrated iron filings and a Makarov pistol that once belonged to her abbess back in the Soviet Union.

CAPACITY
^{______________}

Already a trained soldier before entering the Church's demon hunters Eketerine is a skilled gunslinger, fitting considering that she works in the land of the gangster and cowboy. She excels at meeting the enemy in close quarters and blasting them back to Hell with her shotgun and pistol or simply spilling their infernal guts with a twist of her bayonet. Her work as a farmhand set the ground for building a great physical strength that, while hidden by nun's outfit, enables her to sprint with her gear and crush the skulls of the damned beneath her boots.

Her spiritual strength on the other hand is what keeps her going. No matter how bad things get, no matter how much misery and sin she has to wallow through, she just keeps going. After going through the killing fields of the Eurasian steppes without God's light, how can she allow herself to break against the mere denizens of Hell with Him guiding her aim?

DIVINE INTERVENTION

Will work on an app later