13th Day of Fireseek, 565 CY
Temple of Heironeous, Willip, Furyondy
"Come on! What are you, sunshine warriors? You think Evil is going to wait for a spring picnic to attack? Swing like you mean it, you larvae!"
Neither the rain nor the darkness kept the adherents and protectors of the Valorous Temple from their mandatory combat drills in the courtyard of the church. The instructor's booming voice kept the mock combats going. A few continual light beacons placed around the yard's perimeter gave some light, but not enough to absolutely prevent someone from making a slip, even with a practice weapon. The occasional "Oomph!" could be heard amongst the clunking of wood on steel and battle cries.
Jinella wended her way through the courtyard. She was again wearing her chainmail armor, and her helm kept the worst of the rain off, but she was still cold. She noted with envy a small crowd gathered at just the right distance around the active smithy, basking in its warmth without being too close. She got a naughty thrill of satisfaction as one of the loiterers turned, recognized her, and nudged his companions. They all slowly scattered, as if they had only been together a moment there by sheer coincidence.
Sometimes it was hard for Jinella to comprehend that in terms of the priesthood, she was third in command of the Temple. Of course, there were certain paladins, templars and others who technically ranked above her, so that wasn't quite as impressive as it sounded. Still, in a church the priests had an exalted standing that no one else did.
The cleric headed towards one of the four corner towers. Space was at a premium in the temple, since it was a very old building, one of the first in the area. The city had quickly closed in around it, leaving little room for expansion. Thus, with the exception of the High Priest, all church members conducted business in their quarters. Jinella grimaced as she entered the tower and began the climb up the stone stairs.
She wasn't looking forward to this at all.
Jinella stood stock still as Ethelred sat at his desk, slowly perusing the book she had brought him, filled with all her notes on the Elrohir party. He had already debriefed her verbally, and now it seemed like he was going to read the whole damn thing while she waited, dripping wet, standing at attention, before him. She shook her head slightly, and a drop of water landed on the book.
He looked up, as if he had indeed forgotten she was there. "At ease."
She relaxed, with a sigh that was perhaps a bit louder than she had intended.
Ethelred eyed her and frowned, then looked back down at the book. He carefully daubed at the wet spot with a cloth, then closed it and looked back at Jinella. A smile that would have been at home at the Wizard's Guild appeared on his face. "Well done, Jinella. This information will prove most valuable. Your service is noted and appreciated." The wretched smile vanished, but an inkling of actual concern creased the corners of his eyes, which were already well worn with crows-feet. "Get yourself warm and dry, Jinella, and get some sleep. Grab something to eat first, if you want. The kitchen is still open, I believe. Dismissed."
He opened the book back up and looked down at it, waiting for the customary prayer of parting. When he didn't receive it, he glanced back up, puzzled.
Jinella was still standing there, hands clasped behind her back.
Ethelred sighed, then decided to beat her to the punch. "Permission to speak freely, granted."
The whisper of a smile flitted across Jinella's face. "I request your leave to return to the Brass Dragon tomorrow."
Ethelred's brow furrowed. Clearly, that hadn't been what he expected. "For what purpose?" he asked.
The priestess managed a small shrug while still maintaining her posture. "These people need our aid."
The Assistant High Priest frowned. "Thousands of people need our help, Jinella. It is a sad fact that not all of them will get it. What elevates these people above all others?"
What indeed, she thought to herself. Was she acting on emotion here, rather than solid church principle?
And if on emotion, which one? Images crowded her mind; Cygnus, writhing in agony on the ground; Caroline, grief-stricken at the thought that she might never see her husband again; Talass; a priestess of an unknown god who turned out to be very much like herself; The Tall Tales Room, filled with valiant but very weary ex-adventurers who had given their all for others and now were only trying to find peace for themselves; A comment made behind her as she ascended the stairs, so unexpected she hadn't even known how to react. Nearly twenty-four hours later, she still didn't.
What are you feeling, Jinella?
She returned a level stare to her superior. "These people embody the very precepts of our teachings. That is what elevates them."
Ethelred leaned back in his chair, smoothing out his dark blue cassock lined with silver trim. "Why then do none of them worship the One who gave us these teachings?" he asked sternly.
Jinella wished he hadn't asked her that. "They are from very far away-"
"The knight Sir Dorbin is from the same world they are, and yet he seems to have found the time to venerate the Invincible One!" Ethelred interrupted. "Besides, from what you have written, the Bigfellows hail from the Great Kingdom, and Talass from the Fruztii." He shook his head sadly. "Zeus, Odin, Forseti. Dying gods of dying faiths. If they are so stubborn as to deny the righteousness of Heironeous, let their gods save them."
The priestess could feel an edge creeping into her voice. "Is it written that everyone must worship Heironeous?"
Her commander's voice now carried the same edge. "And is it written that the worship of," and here he nearly spat out the word, "Hextor, is to be supported by those of your family?"
"Talass is innocent of any sin of her sister! Within a zone of truth she has stated this, and I do believe her! This counterpart of Aslan, Nodyath, is determined to destroy these people, and if-"
"You are needed elsewhere Jinella." Ethelred was apparently not inclined to argue the point and was now pulling rank. "There are scrolls that need penning. You will find your list in the Armory. Also, there are cases on the docket that you will need to-"
Now, it was Jinella's turn to interrupt.
"You mean there is someone who actually hasn't managed to escape the Prison?" she asked snidely, and then immediately regretted it. That wasn't Ethelred's fault. Jinella had always disapproved of sarcastic remarks, and now she had just made one herself.
Ethelred said nothing, but his right arm shot up to point at the wall behind him.
Jinella sighed and followed his pointing finger. The walls of Ethelred's living space were covered with pages of an old Holy Text of Heironeous that had been recovered from some dank subterranean pit years ago. The book had been too waterlogged and damaged to be usable for services, so it had been given to the Assistant High Priest. He had carefully removed each page, on which was written one of the Analects (with an accompanying illustration) and nailed, glued, or otherwise attached them to the walls. The one currently being pointed out to Jinella was the 52nd Analect, which stated Do not neglect provisions, either material or spiritual, for of such seeds do victories grow.
Eyes blazing, Jinella scanned the walls until she found what she was looking for. She thrust out her arm, pointing at another Analect. Ethelred followed her finger.
The 9th Analect. When your path is unclear, always choose the road most valorous.
He shot up to his feet, his face now scrunched up in anger. "Request Denied!" he shouted, and then glared at his subordinate. "You will return to your assigned schedule, Jinella!"
Jinella swallowed hard. She was beaten. She was too well disciplined to even consider any other course of action, and they both knew it. She gave the barest possible bow. "Blessings upon the valorous."
Ethelred answered perfunctorily, "Praised be Heironeous, Archpaladin."
Jinella turned on her heel and left.