A Brave New World

Another plot builder to set the stage for more to come!

*

The Cuthbertians led the way, indicating what appeared to be a closet where they could lock John for the time being. So long as the other two complied, they were more or less free to move. John fought the imprisonment with everything he had, taking four of the men to get him inside and then bar the door. Even after confined, his fierce battle did not subside and he beat the door violently, threatening to break it off the hinges.

At this point, Maddy began resisting Istvan's grip on her arms. "Do you have any idea who he is?" She demanded in fury. Istvan could easily restrain her, but he was impressed with her strength for her size none the less. "What the hell is wrong with you people?"

Robin ran his trembling hand through his hair as he took a long sigh. "This is not ideal," he commented to himself. He looked up at the two in question who remained, Maddy looking like she would literally rip off someone's head and the priest looking mostly bewildered and concerned on John's behalf. The others appeared a range of bewildered, furious, and terrified. "My name is Robin Tenderfoot," he announced to everyone. "I am a cleric of Heironeous from the Gran Marsh. As such, I would hope you take this to understand my desire for Justice. No harm will befall these Three, even if we learn them to be agents of the devils..." He let out a deep sigh as he sat heavily onto one of the pews. The noblewoman's nose wrinkled in further confusion. Apparently she had not heard of Heironeous to gain any comfort from the proclamation. In fact, about a quarter of those there seemed confused. The others did seem to make the connection, however, and gave Robin the desired effect. "I had been hoping we could discuss what we could do to learn more about what has happened to us and how we have come here, not begin this new world with a trial..."

"What has happened to us?" A very beautiful woman asked incredulously. "We died. That is what happened to us."

"Well... well I suppose but... well that is not what I meant, miss," Robin answered, clearly unsure of himself.

"I believe the young man is correct," Albus announced. "It would behoove us to better understand this situation, particularly to put to rest any questions of evil here. As Istvan said earlier, did we not just see the Gods themselves? I witnessed the most holy Delleb. Such is not an event to take in passing. I am something of a scholar to my people. My name is Albus Zediphorus. I would be happy to assist in this matter."

"As would I," Istvan concurred, though through a tired sigh. "In the event that we are mistaken, we have just alienated three of our own with this misunderstanding. This does not benefit any sort of community... I am Istvan Caracus from Sharn in Khorvaire. It would be my pleasure were this under better circumstances." He frowned when only the sage-like woman among them seemed to recognize the name of his home city. It was the largest in the world; surely others had heard of it?

"I am Lady Jacelyn of Brandobia, Queen of Brandobia," chimed in a sweet and articulate voice. "I agree with Mister Caracus and Mister Zediphorus. As a noble, I insist that you handle this woman with deep respect, for if Mr. Caracus is correct and this is a misunderstanding, one of our future leaders is situated to oppose us." Jacelyn herself was furious and clearly was advocating for Maddy, her eyes shooting hot daggers into Istvan's hold on Maddy's arm.

The man blushed slightly, releasing Maddy and scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. For her part, Maddy, threw his hands off and promptly moved over to check on the priest. He was scratched and bruised, but there were no serious injuries.

The woman's jaw tightened and she turned to address the others with a well restrained fury that boiled under her skin. If she had been anything other than a lithe woman, she would have been truly terrifying. Her eyes went first to those who had introduced themselves and then to the others but it was the priest next to her that spoke first. "My name is Antonio Del Fonte," he said in his dragonborne accent. "I am a Catholic Priest," he announced, hoping that would abate some of this tension. It didn't, only adding to his own personal concern. "This is Madeline Parker, she is an American... and the man you have locked away is John Reece from Ireland. They are also Catholic." Antonio had been counting on the others recognizing the name America or Catholic and when no one did, he looked alarmed.

"They don't know what that means, father," Madeline told him firmly, though clearly with respect. She had winced when he introduced her and her posture indicated that she expected to be attacked immediately. Her reply caused anxiety to swell within the man. "They don't know who John is, even though they should." Her eyes locked on Robin's. "And we don't know who Heironeous is to trust that you understand what Justice means, Mr Tenderfoot. Or Rao," she added, looking at Istvan, "Or Delleb," turning to look at Albus. "And we've never heard of Brandobia, Miss.... Jacelyn." Madeline's eyebrows flickered slightly, clearly trying to figure out how to address Jacelyn without knowing her last name. Jacelyn flinched at the lack of a proper title, but said nothing.

"Perhaps not," intoned the male Cuthbertian in an oily smooth voice, "But we are quite familiar with Infernal." That seemed to be unanimously agreed upon. "And no holy book in all of the planes has ever been penned in such an offensive text. Fear not. Mine is the God of Inquisition and the truth

will

be uncovered. I am Sir Simon of Trent, Archduke of Onara, loyal follower of Saint Cuthbert, and I am well skilled in matters of inquiry. Lady Tracy Quickfeather, being a paladin of the most Noble Saint Cuthbert as well, is equally qualified." The paladinness nodded once.

Madeline's face contorted into skepticism. Antonio stepped forward as the woman opened her mouth, prepared to elaborate on her confusion. Antonio was obviously equally confused but of the two of them, he was the clear diplomat. "Excellent," he replied, attempting to meet these strange people halfway. "We also relish in the truth. Ours is the god of love, but one cannot have truth without love. You will find us most accommodating to the truth and desiring of peace." Madeline offered him a skeptical look, particularly as the tirade of John continued in the background.

The dark skinned clericess seemed to relax considerably. "I am Natalia Romanofski, Grand Priestess of Sarenrae over all of Glorion," she announced as though this should mean something important and was revealing. To her surprise, only one person there seemed to know what this meant. "If yours is the god of Love, why is your book written in the tongue of devils?" She, of course, knew full well that the God of Love did not use such a language.

Madeline folded her arms across her chest, seemingly now convinced that no one was going to try to kill her outright. Letting out an impatient sigh, she stepped backward and sat in a pew, clearly content on allowing Antonio to answer on their behalf. Antonio forced a confident smile, trying his best to reclaim his endlessly patient demeanor. Internally, his heart was pounding furiously in his chest. He knew if he could just explain, he could probably diffuse the situation, but the level of confusion was alarming none-the-less.

"The book is written in Latin," he offered gently. "It is not the language of our god; it was the language of the era and region where our faith was able to blossom and so our texts were written in it and Greek, another regional language. Latin is no longer spoken; it is an ancient, archaic language, if you will. While I have no doubt that the devil knows how to speak it, I am certain he can speak any tongue that we humans use."

This explanation did not go a long way with most of the people there and Antonio swallowed slightly. "The language is dead. It's just a tool," he said, starting on another approach. "We use it in the church because it will not change with popular use so that the meanings of our holy texts are not lost with time... surely you have similar tools?"

Robin stepped forward and brought his hands to his temples in frustration. "The more I learn, the more confused I become. Your explanation for why your holy text is written in Infernal couldmake sense, but it does not explain the vat of blood. My heart tells me you are not evil but -"

"But the facts point to the contrary," Tracy interrupted with an arched eyebrow.

Madeline rolled her eyes. "Facts? So far all you've provided is ignorance. Let me know when these facts of yours surface..." Tracy's eyes narrowed though she did not advance on the smaller woman, who was clearly not intimidated in the slightest.

Antonio was growing frustrated with Madeline's apathy but he was far too godly of a man to lash out at her. "Doctor Parker speaks out of frustration," he answered as calmly as he could without tossing Madeline under the bus. "I believe she is concerned that you will not believe us regardless of the truth we speak and assumes that we will be killed."

"Actually, I could care less if they decide to kill me," Madeline argued through a sigh. "I'm more worried they are going to kill you or John."

Antonio drew in a breath to steady his own patience. "The Blood," he said through a sigh, attempting to return to the topic at hand. "It is not blood as you know it, but I regret it is more difficult to explain than the misunderstanding of language. I am more than happy to provide the explanation, but it is not a quick reply and one requiring study." "Give them the Protestant version," Madeline chimed, causing Antonio to recoil in personal displeasure. Madeline smirked again. "It is just wine," she continued, looking at Robin. "It symbolizes the blood of god that was spilled to redeem his followers of their sins. It symbolizes Salvation. You know, the reason we're all here?" The accusatory tone was not lost on anyone.

"Oh," Robin said, thinking he understood. "Yours is a warrior god! Then you remember his sacrifice in battle by consuming the symbolic wine? This is more understandable. Heironeious has a similar demand."

Antonio looked sour as Madeline handed him a pleased expression. "It... there is a considerable theological discourse behind what Doctor Parker has said," came his quiet reply. It wasn't the correct explanation, but it was offered quickly enough to satisfy the crisis.

"What is a Protestant?" Simon asked, obviously not missing the silent disagreement between the two in question.

"It is another sect of the broader religion, Christianity. We follow the teachings of Christ, ergo, the blood of Christ," Antonio answered easily. "There are theological disagreements between our two sects," he added, as means of explaining the disconnect.

"If the wine is symbolic, then you would have no problem with it being disposed," Tracy stated, thinking she had caught them in some sort of trick.

Antonio offered her a patient, though saddened smile as Madeline flashed her one of fury. "I would insist that it be disposed in a manner consistent with our faith, if this is required," he answered gently. "If this would aid in arriving at understanding, I will do so and any are welcome to witness the event." Madeline's angry look shifted to Antonio before again retreating to apathy. There were several people who seemed to relax as the priest volunteered to dispose of the blood.

"You have asked the wrong questions," came the sing-song voice of a woman with a shaved head and dressed in white robes. "This man speaks truth. The truth is from what he knows to be true, just as all here speak truth as they know it to be true. The question to be asked is why these many truths appear false to those who hear them?"

Robin lifted both eyebrows as he turned to regard the apparently wise woman. "This is great wisdom," he offered in regard. "May I ask your name, miss?"

"I am Sister Lili Wen, head monk of the Order of Light atop Mount Cerilos in Sarlona. Our order professes peace and practice the way of the Unseen Eye." Lili was not surprised that no one had heard of her, though Istvan's face immediately lit with understanding. He knew where Sarlona was and had even heard of the Order of Light.

"Have we sufficiently addressed your concerns?" Madeline asked pointedly of Simon. "Can we go?" The tone was exactly what Istvan was worried would happen and Robin's expression mirrored Istvan's own disappointment.

Natalia answered on Simon's behalf. "The wrong is on our hands," she said sadly.

"No shit," Madeline replied tersely as she rose to walk to the closet which was being thoroughly guarded by Thorn, the Dwarven speaking man, and another, and assaulted on the other end by John. "Step aside," she told them in a tone which brokered no discussion.

"No," Simon replied from behind her. He never would have admitted it, but Madeline had earned herself a great deal of respect from the man. She handled herself like his equal and commanded the power she naturally wielded effortlessly. The men took on an uncomfortable appearance, not fully knowing what to do.

It was a man with the most striking blue eyes Madeline had ever seen who decided to speak. "As she says," he said, gesturing to Natalia, "The wrong is on our hands. So are the consequences."

"If you release him now, there will be violence. It can be avoided by permitting him time to gather his senses." While Simon respected Madeline, he obviously had none for John.

"So you would remove his freedoms because the consequences of this farse are uncomfortable to you?" Inquired a woman who had been quiet until then. The statement was completely insulting to Simon, and apparently Tracy as well. "This sounds like a problem that an Archduke ought be able to handle," she continued fluidly.

Madeline cocked an eyebrow at the woman. She couldn't help but agree with her and she offered her an appraising look. Antonio sighed heavily. "This land is intended to be perfect," he said in frustration while crossing the room to John's prison. "It has already seen far too much senseless violence. John," he called into the screaming mess on the other side of the door. "John, please calm down," he begged. "Madeline and I have been unharmed. They have agreed to release you if you can agree to restrain your violence-"

"I'll fook'n kill e'ry last one of 'em!" John managed to articulate.

"Fey man in rage," the barbarian man named Thorn commented. There were a few shrugs as if this seemed to make perfect sense. Thorn frowned. He was wondering what it would be like to be in rage and to be contained the way John was. Thorn suspected that it would only make it worse.

Madeline also frowned. "No you aren't," Madeline snapped at John harshly. "You're gonna calm your ass down this second and we're gonna walk out of here, got it?"

The assault on the door stopped, but John was still breathing heavily from the other side. "Good," Madeline told him. "Now we're going to open this door and you're going to listen to whatever Father Antonio tells you to do, understand?"

"What are thay gonna do to us?" He demanded.

"Nothing. Father Anthonio took care of it. Talked them down. They all agree that they are idiots and they are very sorry about this. Now, the good father has gone through a lot of trouble to get us out of here without having to throw a punch and frankly, John, looking at these guys out here..." She eyed the three men, skeptical that John would be able to take all three of them at once. If Maddy had to guess, their biceps were bigger than her thigh.

"Fook that shit, Maddy," John hissed in reply. "I'm the Irish fook'n-"

"Bomber, yes, I know," Madeline interrupted, sounding a bit bored. "Can we just try this the priest's way, please?" It wasn't so much a plead as a patronizing demand which elicited a smirk on the corner of Simon's lips. "He's kind of good at compromises in case you didn't notice. Anyway, his way involves all three of us walking out of here and puts you in a much better position for protecting us than trying to take on three NFL line backers at once. Seriously, will you assholes just step away?" She asked forcefully of the three men at the door. The blue eyed man cocked an eyebrow, but it was Thorn who looked impressed. "It's not like he's going to come barreling out knowing that Antonio and I are standing right here, isn't that right, John?"

"Why the fook would I hurt ya when I'm try'n ta get out ta save ya!" He snapped back in irritation.

"Precisely

my

point," she agreed while casting an incredulous look to those defying her. "Move. Now."

"Let fey man out," Thorn said firmly. "He no evil, no be in little cage. This bad. Kord no want." Thorn moved out of the way, intent on opening the door himself when he was interrupted.

Antonio didn't wait for an answer and simply stepped forward and pulled open the door, instantly positioning himself in between John and the others. As expected, John lunged forward, his face bright red for the fury he was experiencing and his hands dripping in his own blood from his escape attempt. Antonio, while not a violent man, grabbed a hold of him to attempt to hold him back from the others. "You fook'n bastards!" John hissed in one of the only intelligible things to come out of his mouth.

"We're leaving," Madeline announced as she turned and glared so strongly that a path naturally cleared for her. Antonio kept his hold on John and directed him through the path and out the door, the Three disappearing into the white afternoon light.

There was a silence left in their wake. "Well." commented the beautiful woman as she offered a sultry, but sarcastic, smile. "You boys made quite a mess of that one. If it is to his

Highness's

approval, I believe I will be following suite," she concluded offering a charming smirk to Simon.

"I have no regrets if that is what you imply, miss," Simon answered under an arched brow. "I will do all that is necessary to protect this world from Evil as

that

is what the Saint demanded of us, lest any choose to forget it. To question me is to question he who positioned me here." The undertone of Cuthbertian facism was undeniable. There was certainly a battle looming on the horizon.

"Wait for me," called the woman Madeline had offered a high regard. She quickly followed the beautiful woman and the two disappeared without further comment.

"Salvation, they said. A new start.", Istvan let out in ire after the Three had departed.

Straightening up, he made his way to where Robin stood looking utterly out of control.

"We have been here less than an hour and already we have managed to alienate three who would seek the same. Others as well, if their departures are to be taken in kind. In case no one has looked or listened, if we take what the Gods have told us as fact, at least until it is disproven, then they brought us here to start anew. This sort of behavior cannot be tolerated if we are to form a community. We must be cooperative to make this a place where our future children can thrive," he explained at length, not one comfortable speaking at length, as his voice rose and fell, steady in places and shaky in others. He tended to ramble; but he did not like where the common feeling was headed, so he stepped up.

"We all come from different lands, most likely, as not all of our Patrons are commonly known to one another. It makes sense that different languages would be spoken in those lands, evolved from different needs. Who is to say that one who speaks in the tongue of Dragons is less worthy than one who speaks the tongues of Elves or Dwarves...or Men, for example? I urge you to put aside the petty attitudes that plagued our world and approach this new one with an open mind.", he finished, seeming abashed to have been so public and squinting his eyes slightly as he awaited the inevitable reproaches.