Arcaea/Dining Hall Late 08-09/Calindra's Preaching Problems
"...and so, you see, the Universes are parallel," Calindra explained tot he congregation.
"Wot's palerel?" a man in a dusty tunic asked.
"Parallel...lined up, but never touching," she said. "Like..like two people lying on a bed."
"Den how come we gots ta worry about dem, if dey can't touch us none?" another asked.
"Do dey share a bed wit' us? I mean, when we're out in da fields, dey're sleeping in our'n beds, and visa versa?" a woman shouted.
"No, no ..you don't understand...it was just in the allegorical sense..."
"Dat ain't right, no how," the first man said. "Two people in bed ain't palerel at oll!"
"Dey can be...if one a dem...." a voice droned on...
"He was right, you know," Father Casper said, twining his legs through hers. "Two people in bed aren't parallel at all."
"And so you see," Calindra explained in a gentle voice, "the Aenil are everywhere - "
"Everywhere?" a voice asked from the crowd.
"Yes, everywhere. You see, th-"
"Even here?" asked a middle-aged woman who had looked up sharply from slapping a small child. A murmur went through the crowd.
"Well, yes, but you don't -"
"THERE'S ONE NOW!" shrieked a young housewife. People jumped to their feet in alarm. A few nearest to where she was pointing started racing toward the exit at the back; there was pushing and shoving and panicked cries of "an Aenil!" as the rest of the gathering tried to escape.
"No, NO! They're not -"
"It's coming! Run!"
"Get a pitchfork!"
"No wait - that's just old Tom McGraw..."
Father Casper pulled the blanket up over their naked bodies.
"They're everywhere, you know," he explained. "We don't want them watching."
"So yer sayin' all da Aenils are sacred, roight?" asked one boisterous farmer in the front row.
The sermon hadn't been going well at all. These Lantzas peasants had seen a lot of different religions pass through, and were not easily convinced. Of course, if Lord Urine had shown up, it might have at least kept the crowd in order.
"Yes, yes," she answered.
"Even da bad ones?"
"Well, yes, but that doesn't mean -"
"So, it stands dat even if I does somefin' bad, it's still okay, roight?"
"No, not exactly. You see -"
Her words were interrupted by a fistfight in the back row; two men were apparently duking it out over a bottle of spirits. The crowd stood and turned their backs to her, for this was far more interesting.
Sighing, she picked up her scrolls and signaled to her acolyte.
"C'mon, Tom," she said wearily, "let's go be bad, since it doesn't matter anyway."
Calindra soaked in the hot, steaming water while her acolyte bustled about the room lighting candles. It had been a long day of preaching, but a successful one, and she felt this luxury was a well-earned one.
"Tom, how many did we sign up today?" she asked.
"62, m'lady," he said, adding with a grin, "and most of them former Sartanians."
Yes, a good day's work. Now, if she could just get the local lord to switch...What a preposterous man, some pagan viking from off-island with the name of "Urine". Who names their child "Urine"?
"Who names their child 'Urine', anyway?" she asked Tom, but forgot about the question the moment his strong hands began to knead her shoulders.
Disciple Luyten has demoted you to the rank of Deacon in the order "Magna Aenilia Ecclesia". There is no monthly grant or fee for this rank.
"Dammit, Tom!" Calindra shouted, "didn't you send that note to Father Dren?"
Tom looked up, red-faced. "Uhm...well, I..."
"Why not?" she demanded.
"It seemed that telling a High Priest of the order that you were preaching in Sasat, and if anyone heard rumors of you being at the tournament, that that was just your evil twin, Calindar, seemed somehow...wrong..."
She walked over to where he was polishing the helmet and stood directly in front of him, scowling. Leaning over, she whispered into his ear.
"The same might be said about what a certain acolyte has been doing with his Priestess. Now write the note!"
"Yes, yes, welcome aboard," Cally said wearily, shaking the hand of the 92nd new convert of the day.
"Aenil's Blood, Tom!" she whispered. "How many more?"
"Just one," the acolyte replied. "A pagan - animist."
"Animalist?" Cally thought, as the man was led forward. He wasn't so young - maybe 30, 35 - but was solidly built and well-tanned. Dark locks framed his rugged face. His eyes were deep, dark...animal-like. Yes, Animalist....
"Welcome, Brother," Cally said, taking him by the hand. "We'll need to perform a small ceremony to finalize your conversion. Tom, tell anyone waiting I'll resume office in the morning."
"You were demoted accordingly, and whilst I praise you for your decision to take up the cloth again, promotion back into the ranks of the full-blooded priesthood will be a slower process this time I think."
"So that's what that was about!" Calindra said, crumpling the papaer. "He never did tell me. Curse that evil Calindar! This will be the last time she spoils things for me!"
She picked up a pen and started scribbling furiously.
"You see, Tom," Calindra said, as she laid aside the note from Sir Aerwyn, "this is what happens when you let Lords and Ladies keep religions that are obviously detrimental to the Realm. Not to mention pagan."
She tidied her robes in preparation for that morning's sermon. "You mark my words - Lady Madalena will have some explaining to do, letting that Sartan fellow have free reign of her lands."
Calindra Namtrah (Priestess of Magna Aenilia Ecclesia)
