Winter in Chronotopia is much like the summer, just harsher in all aspects. The wind slips around armour and bites through clothing, the sky is overcast, and the rain is cold and trickles through clothing despite the best weather-proofing. Occasionally, it snows, and this turns into gray slush that makes the streets treacherous. A black carriage rumbles along the wet cobblestones, into the airship docks. The driver can be heard calling out, "The Anchor's Pride, is she still berthed?" Inside, whatever answer he receives is lost as one of the knights leans towards the highlander and says, "You will be going soon; perhaps you will find you like sunnier places better."

Sir Chetwin, the human Landsknecht who survived the battle against the Bosch-corrupted Ruthven, is the one addressing the bear. The other three knights present are familiar faces from the keep, but not known by name to Jonas.

Following some distance behind the black carriage is a second one, this one a simple public transport carriage also bearing towards the Anchor's Pride. Its passenger is a Technopriestess, heading home after a long and very interesting vacation.

Jonas looks out the window of the carriage at the gray sky. Smiling at the human, whose odd race Jonas has become more familiar with, the bear says, "I doon't mind the weather over much, Sir Chetwin. Truth be told, it reminds me o' the Downs near my home. But, yer Parliament has made up its mind about me, and that's that. Ye keep a good eye on that boy-king o' yers now. And thank Gergesene fer me, would ye? He was a good host, even if I couldn't be the best o' guests."

"Actually, it was the Judiciary. The people who enact the laws are separate from the people who enforce and interpret them," Sir Chetwin explains. "Kaizer Jael is being well looked after, and I'll be sure to pass your farewell on to Sir Gergesene… well, Brother Gergesene as he is called now."

The other three Cervani Landsknechts stay silent as the human and bear talk. They are the rest of the highlander's 'honour escort', which is a polite way of saying they are along to make sure he is on the airship when it leaves.

The occupant of the second carriage is also looking out the window and musing at the sky. More to herself than anyone else, Buran mutters, "I shall be glad to get home. This gloomy weather gets to me. Should I ever be sent out on sabbatical again, I will choose somewhere … brighter."

Up ahead, the docks begin to emerge into view. Most of the ships there look rather unimpressive, a few trader ships – but one sticks out like a white hair on a black Khatta, a fleet ship from the Rephidim Temple itself. The Anchor's Pride is a sleek ship, not a huge ship as airships go… but still impressive.

Weather is also the conversation in the first carriage. Sir Chetwin gives a broad smile as he says to Jonas, "Don't be too upset about being locked up for three months and missing the fall; it's much like it is now, but not quite as cold and wet." He gestures out the window at the precipitation, and indirectly the dark looming shape of the airship.

Workers tend the deck and the riggings on the Temple ship and load supplies up from the docks. Near the gangplank on the ground, three armored figures stand motionlessly while a fourth figure in bright red robes fidgets next to the trio.

Jonas stares out the window at the sky-ship, a dubious expression on his face. "And that thing flies?" he asks, uneasily.

The second carriage jolts as it hits a pothole. "Sorry ma'am!" the cabbie yelps. "We're almost there… dun't look like we lost anythin'."

Jonas continues to study the strange contraption. "Looks awfully flimsy. Is it safe, in these winter winds?"

"Yes," Chetwin says with a nod, turning to watch out the window as the black carriage rolls up and stops by the gangplank. "The gasbag on top provides lift. It's quite safe, though you do have to watch out for fire while you're on board. The winds do make flight a little more difficult, but airships that visit Chronotopia are used to our weather."

As the public-transport carriage draws closer to the docks, Buran surveys the city for one final time, committing it to memory. It has been an interesting sabbatical, and she has learned much. The Sphynx smoothes her robes, knowing that an unkempt appearance just won't do. Her mind automatically suggests several anti-shock mechanisms for lessening the impact of potholes, but she knows that this is not the best time or place to mention them. Perhaps a later study of the Temple's own carriages …

The human knight replies, "It's not flimsy… though you will find that it is not built on a Chronotopian scale. After I get out, let Sir Caswick down, then you follow. Sir Landsthrope and Sir Stockey will come after you."

Jonas grimaces, as they draw closer to the ship. "Doon't have much choice, do I?" he asks, smiling briefly. "Unless I plan to lead ye on another run through Blitzheim, eh?" Realizing that may not be in the best of taste, he adds, "Which I doon't."

The Technopriestess' carriage also arrives, some distance away from Jonas' own, but still in close proximity to the ship. The cabbie hops off and opens the door for Buran. "Thankee kindly, ma'am. Have a safe trip to whaerver yer goin'."

"Yes… best not to joke about that. The Templars aren't known for their sense of humour," Sir Chetwin cautions, watching Jonas carefully. The other knights are assembled around the bear as well, waiting for the carriage to stop. The human approaches one of the waiting knights, and says something in a strange tongue.

The three armored figures straighten themselves as the carriage arrives. It's then that Jonas is able to get a good look at the trio. They're each wearing glitteringly bright armor and carry wicked looking swords and flintlocks at their sides. They appear to be equine with a horse's tail and feet… although their backs sport feathered wings and hooked beaks jut out from their helmets. The center figure simply nods at the words, while the figure to its right squawks something in reply.

Jonas steps out after the first Cervani, snorting at Chetwin's comment. " Like I give a fig about Templars, " he grunts in his own tongue. Still, he follows quietly, observing these new fellows.

Meanwhile, the figure in red robes rushes over to greet the Technopriestess, also speaking in the same strange tongue.

Jonas stares at the warriors curiously. They look like nothing he has seen before. "Eh, Landsthrope," he mutters to one of the Cervani, "what sort of critters 're those?"

Buran exits the carriage, offering the cabdriver several shekels for his trouble and thanking him for his time. Her ears perk toward the robed figure, listening to his words.

The central armored warrior studies Jonas as well. Surprisingly… it seems to be about the same height as the exile, although its bright golden wings add another foot to its height.

Sir Landsthrope looks up at Jonas and replies, "They're Vartans. These three are from the Diamond Lance of Rephidim. They are not from Chronotopia, which is why you haven't seen them here."

Sir Chetwin, meanwhile, continues his conversation with the foreign knights, in their incomprehensible tongue.

Pulling back his hood, the red-robed fellow reveals himself to be a raccoon. He grabs one of Buran's bags and gives her a pat on the back, motioning her up the gangplank – all the while chatting merrily in his native tongue…

Jonas nods back to Landsthrope, returning the Vartan's stare evenly. "Curious lookin' fellers. Serve the Primogen directly, do they?"

The middle Vartan, the most highly decorated of the three, nods again… no expression escapes from the steel helmet it wears. The one on the left continues speaking.

"A Primogen?" Landsthrope blinks at the question. "I'm not familiar with that term. What is a primogen?"

Buran lifts her other bag and follows the Rath'ani up the gangplank, chatting with him animatedly in the same language. One hand waves about, apparently supplementing the spoken words.

The human knight gestures at the carriage, then breaks off speaking. He walks over to it, and the driver hands him down a wrapped package. He returns to the three Lancers and holds it out to the one on the left. The length of the item, and Chetwin's nod in Jonas' direction suggests that this is the highlander's laminated blade.

Jonas breaks his stare to look at the knight. "The ancestors, Landsthrope. Each race is watched by their Primogen, and each Primogen is the patron of a craft. Yer a Child o' Herne, He of the Twelve Points," Jonas makes a small motion to the Cervani's antlers. "I be a Child o' Bruin, the Great Wrestler." He nods back at the Vartans. "They look to have the wings o' the Primogen, but they have Percheron's thews. Are they soldiers of the Primogen?"

"They're not soldiers… The Champion and the Lancers are warriors of Rephidim, where you're going," the Cervani knight replies with some confusion, and gestures upwards at the dark sky. "So… in your land, each race has a separateruler of their own kind, like a Baron or Kaizer. Is that what you mean?"

Jonas shakes his head. "Nay. Ye misunderstand. Look, there is the Mother, She Who Created All. And there is the Primogen, the First o' each People. Each Primogen showed the other Peoples that Their People were unique, and that Their craft was unique. Bruin was the first bear to stand upright and to speak, and He taught the Peoples the arts of war. Herne was the first o' the Antlered People, and He showed the Peoples the woods, and how to harvest the forests' bounty. And so on, fer each People, from the Children o' Lupus, the Hunter, to the Children o' Felis, Mistress o' Beauty and Grace." He motions towards where Buran is speaking with the raccoon.

Jonas says, "Fer Their deeds and teachings, the Primogen were allowed by the Mother to live beyond death, so that They might watch over Their Children."

One of the Lancers cranes its neck in the direction Jonas points.

Buran and the red-robed figure disappear belowdecks, still chattering back and forth in that tongue Jonas cannot understand.

"So… you're saying, er, that the Primogen is a god, and she… is one of these beings?" Landsthrope asks, staring at the Sphynx's disappearing back…

Jonas furrows his brow for a moment, translating a few of the concepts from Bosch into his own tongue and then back again. "That's a bit simple, but, aye."

The other two knights behind Jonas glance at each other but remain silent. Sir Landsthrope is about to make a reply when he is interrupted by Sir Chetwin's approach, "They're ready for him now. Come, Jonas." The human waves the bear towards the Diamond Lance.

Jonas turns to Chetwin. "Thankee, Sir Chetwin." He surveys the three Vartans. "Do they speak Bosch, then?"

The Champion and the two accompanying Lancers shift a bit. One of them carefully hefts Jonas' sword with a practiced hand, testing its weight and quality.

"Unfortunately no, they don't. You'll just have to follow their commands until your processing. They are acting in your best interest, and it would not be a good idea to resist anything they try to make you do," the human answers as they walk over.

"Ask one of the Lancers to tarry a moment, Sir Chetwin," Sir Landsthrope says, after failing to catch the other knight's attention. "I have something I want to discuss with them once Jonas is aboard. I'll need you to translate for me as well, obviously."

"Processing," Jonas sounds out the word. "That sounds unpleasantly like payin' taxes. Which I'd expect of Templars. But, as ye say, Sir Chetwin. Doon't ye worry. I'll not be of any trouble to those that serve the Primogen." He matches the gaze of the Champion briefly, assessing, and then nods, evenly.

"Err… some payment is involved, but they'll explain it all to you once you are done. I'm not familiar with the process." Sir Chetwin nods across to Sir Landsthrope, then turns to the Lancers. He speaks again in their strange tongue. When he is finished, he turns and takes a second package that the driver has brought up, and hands it over.

The Champion and one of the Lancers both nod to Jonas in return and motion for Jonas to follow them. The second Lancer remains on the ground as instructed.

Jonas hmphs. "I'm sure they will," he comments, walking after the two warriors. He stops briefly and turns, taking in a view of Blitzheim, and then looking at the Landsknechts. He smiles, saying, "May yer Star protect ye, good furres, and enjoy yer Midwinter's. Farewell." He turns and continues on.

Sometime later after a slightly bumpy Takeoff, Jonas and Buran both find themselves in a rather spacious office below the ship. The Champion, whom Jonas has found is named Diamond, and a Lancer named Shard stand impassively at the back, guarding the door while a grayish Eeee in bright yellow robes begins to go through some paper on his desk. After a few long moments he addresses the pair.

"I had planned to interview you each separately," the Eeee squeaks in rather fluent Bosch. "But I have found some conflicting information that is in dire need of addressing. We of the Technopriesthood pride ourselves on our attention to detail, after all." He ruffles through his papers a bit more.

Jonas peers curiously at the strange creature. It looks familiar, like some non-sentient of his homelands, but he can't place it. However, despite its resemblance to an animal, it … he is most definitely intelligent, and deserving of polite manners. "I kin but tell ye what I know, and no more than that, sir."

The winged Technopriestess has had to dip her head a bit to enter the room, but she looks more at ease as she takes a seat. Switching to her accented Bosch, she offers her assistance in clearing up the confusion.

The Eeee nods. "I am very glad to hear that. Firstly, you may call me Brother Fustion… and your name is Jonas from what the papers say." He nods to Buran. "Firstly, according to the reports from Chronotopia, the two of you were involved in an incident in which Jonas threatened the life of the Technopriestess Buran. Could you explain this incident to me?"

Jonas steps to one side, and offers a seat to Buran, a respectful and reverent look on his face. Rather than sit in the other one, stands behind her and to the left. A brief frown passes across his face at the fact that the Eeee is sitting in the presence of Felis, Mistress of Grace, but he lets it pass, on account of the Eeee's own wings. A servitor that has been given certain liberties, perhaps, he thinks.

Brother Fustion steeples his hands, "I ask this because I very rarely see a hostage on such friendly terms with her attacker."

Jonas says, "Aye, I be Jonas MacAllister, o' the Black Watch. Now, as to yer question, I know of no … 'Teknopriestess' that I threatened. 'Tis true that I did threaten Ruthven, but only after I told him o' my oath and duty towards the lad, er, that is, I suppose now he's their Kaizer."

Jonas catches the next statement, and realizes that Fustion is speaking of Felis, and ahs. "Oh, I ken. Ye mean Felis. Nay, 'twas no hostage, sir. A bluff, nothing more."

Buran recounts the events leading up to the incident in the courtyard. "Jonas knew that he wouldn't be allowed to carry out his sworn duty to protect Jael," she explains. "If he had been arrested and escorted out of Blitzheim, he wouldn't have been able to do so. He takes his oaths very seriously, and for him I believe it would have haunted him for a long time to come if something had happened to Jael." She nods as Fustion explains his reasons for inquiring. "I never felt I was in danger. Something told me I would not be hurt, and I've never known a killer who apologized beforehand to anyone he intended to kill." She concludes, "I saw no reason to fault Jonas for doing what he swore to. I do the same."

Jonas bows his head, quietly saying, "Thankee, Mistress."

The Eeee frowns. "Sister Buran, I feel I should point out that the Politics of Chronotopia are something that a worker of the Temple should not dabble in. We are presently on very tenuous terms with them, and an incident such as this could very easily be used to discredit Rephidim… perhaps even be used as a tool to ally Chronotopia with Babel in its war against Rephidim. It is your duty to remain neutral in Chronotopian politics… Do make a point of remembering that on your next vacation."

Buran frowns slightly, but decides not to press the topic. She lightly fingers the pendant that hangs around her neck.

Jonas's frown goes deeper at the Eeee's tone towards Buran. Still, he keeps silent for the moment. Perhaps Felis has acted against the wishes of the other Primogen.

"This brings up another issue… one that disturbs me greatly," the robed Eeee continues. "I was given a report from Lancer Shard before he boarded, are you aware that the Exile Jonas is under the impression that you are a deity of some sort? Do you know what the consequences of knowingly taking advantage of the confusion of an Exile to Sinai are?"

Jonas's frown deepens into an angry scowl. "What're ye babbling about?! She takes no advantage o' no one! I serve Felis willingly!"

"Allow the Technopriestess to answer for herself, if you please!" Brother Fustion responds, nodding to the two warriors standing at the door.

The expression on Buran's face, both at the question and at Jonas' vehement response, shows that she never expected such a question. "Confusion?" She shakes her head, looking a bit confused herself. "I wasn't aware that anyone was confused. I've only known Jonas for a few months, and-" she pauses, glancing at him. "I wouldn't ever take advantage of anyone."

"Then please enlighten the Exile." The Eeee folds his arms. "Tell him that you are simply a Templar – no deity, no goddess."

Jonas snarls at the Eeee. "I doon't know who ye think ye are, ye winged rat, but no one but the Primogen kin command another Primogen to do or say anything. To do so is to consign yerself to the Devourer's Belly."

The Eeee says something sharply in a foreign tongue, and the sound of metal blades being unsheathed rings as the Lancer and the Champion draw their blades. Shard walks to stand in front of the desk while the Champion remains at the door.

Jonas snorts at the two Vartan. Smugly, he stands where he has since this began, behind and to the left of Felis, waiting for her to strike them blind or dead, as the legends tell.

Shard mumbles something from behind his mask, the Eeee just nods his head and frowns even more.

Buran explains to Jonas, "I came to Chronotopia from Rephidim, the city in the sky. In Chronotopia, I learned the art of healing. But I don't think I ever got a chance to tell you what I do in Rephidim. I am a healer of another sort. I heal machines, like the clocks of Chronotopia. It is my duty to repair the Temple, as it was yours to guard Jael. Without the Technopriesthood, the Temple wouldn't function, and I uphold the oath I swore to serve it."

"AND… she is not a Goddess," Brother Fustion adds. "She was abandoned at birth… left in an alley near the Temple to die. The Temple took her in, raised her, and taught her all she knows."

"Am I not correct, Sister Buran?" the Eeee squeaks, tapping his finger on his desk.

Jonas listens to Felis, attentively, but still coiled with righteous anger at Fustion. "A city in the sky? That is the home o' the Primogen? Where ye go to hold Conclave with the others? With Bruin, my forefath – ," he is interrupted by Fustion, who he whirls at and snarls, "Shut yer mouth!"

Buran's ears flick back and lie flat on her head in surprise at Jonas' sudden shout. She nods to Fustion silently, hoping to avoid attracting the Exile's rage.

Shard's grip on his weapon tightens. He seems quite ready to lunge but is held back by a gesture from Fustion. The bat instead says something to Buran in that strange foreign tongue.

Jonas turns back to Felis, saying, "Why do ye let this one stay, Mistress? Clearly he takes yer gifts for granted. Blind him, as ye did the King of the Middle Sea, and show him that ye are not to be abused and insulted!"

"She does not because she can not," Fustion says. "And your enraged outbursts are only serving to frighten her. If you hold any concern for the Technopriestess Buran you will hold your tongue and allow her to speak for herself."

The Lancer, Shard, grumbles a bit more, adjusting his glittering weapon in his hand.

Buran nods again toward the bat, then speaks again in Bosch. "Jonas!" Her voice cuts sharply through the air. "Stop! Someone will get hurt if you don't." She softens her tone just a bit. "I don't want you to treat me any differently than anyone else in this room. I don't think I truly understand what you seem to have mistaken me for, and I can only offer you my sincere apologies for that." Her ears slowly return to their normal position, but she still looks a bit frightened. "I'm not Felis – I don't think so, anyway – and I don't want anyone to get hurt. Please stop."

Fustion and Shard have a quick, mumbled conversation. Shard seems very disappointed at the end of it.

Jonas starts to snarl something else at Fustion and actually takes a half-step towards the desk, looking ready to go through the Lancer to get at the Eeee. Buran's command halts him. His ears flick as he listens, and he turns slowly back towards her. The expression on his face is that of confusion and denial. "Nay," he says quietly, dropping to one knee roughly next to her. "This is not so." He looks at her, his eyes pleading for her to retract her last statement.

Fustion's tone softens. "Exile Jonas… you are on a world called Sinai. A place that has NO deities that walk among the living and a place very very far from your own home. This land has many beings such as Buran, and none of them are gods. We all are born and die… You may choose to deny what I say and lash out until someone kills you, or you may attempt to accept the ways of this world and adapt. The choice is yours."

The Sphynx sighs and smiles slightly at Jonas, but has to shake her head and confirm what she has said. "I am sorry," she adds. "I never wanted this to happen."

Shard scrawks something and points his weapon at Jonas, seemingly alarmed.

Buran speaks in the same language to Shard, shaking her head slightly. She does, however, tense just a bit.

Jonas's expression collapses into one of despair. He hangs his head, saying softly, "Ye have let me believe this for these months. Let me act as I did." He looks up sharply, straightening up and looking at Buran with a hopeful expression. "Ye are testing old Jonas, aren't ye? Like ye tested Vashti the Limner when ye gave him palsy so he couldn't paint. Aye?"

The Lancer growls something.

The Champion of Diamonds looks on dispassionately.

Buran raises an eyebrow, firing something back. She rises from her chair and chooses to stand near the door, attention still focused on Jonas.

Brother Fustion just sits quietly in his chair, his ears perked. He keeps his eyes on Buran and taps the Technopriesthood symbol on his chest.

Jonas's face falls again. In a quiet voice, a voice much smaller than his frame might contain, he asks, "This is no test, is it? The Mother did not send ye to fetch Bruin's errant Child, Jonas?" He looks at Buran sadly.

Buran lightly fingers the symbol embroidered on her own robes – the same as that which Fustion displays, then shakes her head. "Not I. But I am not one to foretell the future."

Jonas's head drops again. Slowly, he straightens up again and rises, his face a dead mask. He sweeps the room with an expressionless look, but his shoulders shake with suppressed emotion. His fists clench tightly, and he settles his gaze on Buran, a gaze that is cold. Slowly, his right hand, still clenched, rises.

*Snik!* Instantly, a metal blade stands in between the Technopriestess and the Exile. The Champion holds its blade protectively in front of Buran.

As the fist rises to deliver a blow, Jonas' face frowns in anger. But his eyes unfocus, not looking at Buran, but at something else, somewhere else. He whirls away from her, pausing as he faces the Lancer and Fustion, but not stopping, and finally stopping as he faces the wall, fist still cocked.

The winged Khatta backs toward the door, raising her arms to protect herself.

Jonas stands, facing the wall of the cabin, motionless, save for a trembling along his arm and shoulders. He looks, for a moment, as if he is going to focus his emotion into smashing the wall, or the fixtures that adorn that wall, but, after a minute, his fist slowly lowers to his side. The room sees him square his shoulders and hears him exhale a long, gusty sigh. He relaxes visibly, his shoulders slumping.

The Technopriest behind the desk rises from his seat. "Exile Jonas, I am very sorry that it had to come to this, but I felt that you should know the truth rather than believe in a lie. Is there anything that I may do to help you? I can answer any questions you may have." He motions to one of the seats and nods to the Champion, who lowers the sword but doesn't quite put it away just yet.

Turning back to the room, Jonas reaches out and pulls the previously unoccupied chair, the one he chose not to sit in at first, towards him. He sits in it carefully. He looks up at Fustion, a worn expression on his face. "Brother Fustion," he begins, "first, I owe ye an apology. I spoke out o' anger at what I saw was a disrespectful servant o' the Primogen. I was wrong."

The Eeee looks rather surprised and squeaks something to Shard, who looks equally surprised. "I understand," he says, falling back into Bosch. "And I am regretful to say that this behavior is not uncommon for Exiles. Although an apology is rather uncommon. Please… take a seat. You as well, Technopriestess. I think that the incident is over for now."

Jonas nods. "Aye," he says quietly.

Jonas continues, "Questions … aye." He leans back in his chair, recovering some of his composure, at least on the surface. "I have questions. Enough to last an evening, I think. Or longer." He smiles briefly, and adds, "The first would be, if ye'll pardon me fer bein' blunt, what are ye?"

The bat quirks an ear. "How do you mean? My position in the Temple? Or… oh yes… my species." He smiles, "I'm what's known as an 'Eeee'" he pronounces the name with a tone that makes one's ears ring. "The two warriors here are Vartans, and the Technopriestess Buran is a Vartan/Khatta hybrid."

Jonas snorts in suppressed laughter, saying, "Yer a scream? Nay, nay, never mind. My apologies." He pauses, and then exclaims, "Of course, a bat! Yer a bat!"

Jonas says, "Or, that is, ye look like a big, walking, talking bat."

The Technopriest quirks an eyebrow at the name, meaningless to him. "We have many names, some of them a bit insulting I'm afraid… but Eeee is our official race name."

Jonas nods. "Aye, aye, I've heard some fer Bruin's Children that'd make yer ears burn." He spares a glance to the priest's prodigious set and snorts in amusement. "But that answers that question. This Rephidim, this floating city: it is the seat o' the King, or Emperor, or whatever ruler holds power over Chronotopia's Kaizer?"

"Rephidim is a trade nation, governed by the Temple," Fustion responds, scribbling down a few more notes. "Our leader is the Captain-Astromancer, but he was murdered in cold blood many months ago and we are in the process of seating a new Astromancer."

Jonas says, "Aye? My condolences on yer loss, then. Regicide is an ugly business."

Jonas pauses, seeming to select his next question with some tact. "This Temple, what does it do fer the lands o' this world?"

"Rephidim prides itself upon being the home of much of the trade for Sinai. Many of the nations of our world come to us for education and enterprise," Fustion says, pouring himself a mug of brownish liquid from a pitcher on his desk. "Our schools are the finest in Sinai. We also offer support to countries in need of our fighters," he gestures to the two armored figures, "Currently much of that aid is being used to protect airships from Babelite attackers. We also preserve the history of our world, and fund research to learn more about ourselves."

Jonas nods, digesting this for a moment. He then asks, "And who does the Temple answer to?"

The Eeee sips from his mug. "The Temple is a system of many tiers. The Technopriesthood in which I am a member of, the Inquisition which you will meet very soon, and the Priesthood who handle our religious aspects. There is also the Bridge and the Astromancer himself. Should one of these tiers function improperly, the others come in to amend. We like our diversity because it allows us to keep ourselves in check."

Jonas nods. "It sounds complicated," he ventures carefully. "I ask because there is an Order o' the Temple in the Empire o' the Middle Sea, to the south o' my homeland. They're responsible for some o' what you mentioned, although they leave the enforcement o' laws and military matters to their sister Order, the Hospitallers. But they do manage the … business o' the Empire."

"Were you involved in any of this, Exile Jonas?" Fustion asks, setting his ceramic mug down gently.

During this conversation, Jonas has focused his attention on Fustion, occasionally glancing at the Lancer who stands nearby. He does not look in Buran's direction at all.

Jonas says, "Me? Nay. I'm a Highlander. The Highlanders only deal with the Templars when they choose to sell sheep or aurochs to the Empire, or wool. Or if they drink enough o' their pay from the merchant caravans to make trouble in the Southern cities. The Clan Council sometimes negotiates trade treaties through the Templars, but I didn't have much to do with that part of it. I know a few o' the Hospitallers though. Stout enough, fer Imperials."

Buran finally settles herself back into the other chair, convinced that Jonas once again is in control of himself and will not attack her again.

The bat nods, taking another sip from his lightly steaming mug. "What did you do on your own world, if I may ask?"

Jonas says, "I told ye. I'm o' the Black Watch."

Jonas gestures briefly to his tartan sash and kilt.

"I am sorry, but that means nothing to me." Fustion dips a pen in an inkwell and scribbles something more on his papers. "What did you do in the Black Watch? You seem to be a warrior of some sort."

Brother Fustion smiles at Buran and pours her a mug of the liquid on his desk. It has a very sweet smell to it, and the liquid inside wafts steam. "Mateh," he says.

Buran smiles as the enticing aroma reaches her nostrils. "Thank you," she says as she takes the mug.

Jonas grunts. "I was 'fraid it wouldn't. Ah well. The Highlands is peopled by the Clans, and … well, despite the fact that the Mother made us all with our own gifts, some Clans just doon't like each other. The Watch was formed to protect those people o' the feuding Clans that would not or could not fight from the raiding armies. Watchers also patrol the borders of the Highlands, protect the peace, and judge in disputes. Sometimes, they serve as witnesses as well. We're warriors, aye, but we have to be able to make fair judgements and survive outside the Clanholds as well. A bit o' everything, I suppose."

The Technopriest seems interested in that. "Would you be interested in doing similar work for the Temple after your processing? You heard me mention the murder of our Astromancer – Rephidim is a harsh place, and could always use more protectors."

Buran mutters something, again unintelligible to Jonas.

Fustion chuckles and squeaks something to Buran in reply.

Jonas thinks on this. "P'raps. Ye must understand, though, that I was offered a similar job in Blitzheim. That of Commissar. It conflicted with my oath as a Watcher, which, first and foremost, is to the protection o' the innocent. As the Chronotopians learned, I will not violate this oath."

"Could you tell me that your oath asks of you?" The bat grits his teeth. "I must be honest with you, Exile Jonas, we have had many other exiles who claim to bear codes or honor or hold an oath… and it was used for the sole purpose of acting belligerent towards authority and insulting towards anyone who did not follow the exact code of beliefs as they did. I truly hope this is not the case with you."

The Technopriestess sips from the steaming mug, eyebrows raising in pleasant surprise at the flavor of its contents. An ear perks toward Jonas.

Jonas nods sympathetically. "A shame. Well, the Code o' the Watch is known to all members. A Watch-candidate must recite it in its entirety after his vigil." He closes his eyes, remembering his oath for the second time in recent months.

The Eeee dips his pen in the inkwell a second time and prepares to copy Jonas' words.

Jonas says, "As a member o' the Black Watch, ye shall set yerself apart from all clan rivalries, including those o' yer own family and clan, and serve as an impartial and unbiased judge of all those arguments set before ye. Ye will make judgement on these arguments to the best o' yer ability, using yer knowledge o' the laws o' the Highlands, the Words o' the Great Mother, and the Words o' the Primogen, and yer own good sense, consulting with other watchers as ye see fit. Once ye have passed judgement, all parties in the matter must abide by that judgement, or else appeal to the Watch Commanders."

Jonas says, "That is the First Rule o' the Black Watch."

Jonas waits patiently as Fustion transcribes his words.

"Is this oath affected in any manner by the fact that you are now on another world? Excepting yourself, there are no highlanders here, nor clans with rivalries… and these laws and words you speak of are unknown to everyone here." The Technopriest gently puts his pen away and blows on the sheet of paper.

Jonas says, "Well, I'm not finished yet, but, fer the most part, I would think that such a situation would extend from the Watchers' reputation in the Empire. We are known for our impartiality more than fer our enforcement o' laws. Even in the Empire, and farther south, in the Desert Kingdoms, the Watchers can be and have been called upon as a mediator. Generally, of course, the Imperials and the nomads o' the Desert prefer to have their lawgivers there, to consult with a Watcher so that he or she is aware of differences in the laws."

Jonas says, "If I may continue, though, there is a second rule."

"Of course. My apologies for interrupting." The bat takes up his pen again.

Jonas continues reciting, "Ye shall defend the Highlands and the peoples of all the clans from the depredations of those who would prey upon them. Ye shall defend the innocent in all struggles, for they are the true victims when violence occurs."

Jonas says, "That is the Second Rule o' the Black Watch."

Jonas yawns mightily. "Umph. Yer pardon, Brother Fustion. It has been a trying day. Might we continue this at another time?"

Smiling, the Eeee stands and motions for the door. "Of course, I'm sure that you are both tired. I'll tell Diamond to show you to your cabins."

Jonas nods. "Thankee, and my apologies, once again." He stands and turns towards the Vartan Champion. {Well, Jonas, it looks like old Jack is laughing at ye again,} he thinks to himself. A sudden thought comes to him. "Brother Fustion," he asks, "would there be by any chance any intelligent serpents in these lands?"

Buran sets the now-empty mug on the desk and rises. After addressing Fustion briefly but respectfully, she offers good-luck wishes for the future to the Exile.

"Yes, they are called the Nagai. Why do you ask?" the Eeee says after exchanging a few words with the Champion.

Jonas lets out a short snort of grim amusement. "A furre has his demons as well as his gods, sir. I should've known." He shakes his head, and bids the two priests good night.