After a minute's walk, Joe and his warden stepped through the regal arch. Joe found the courtyard far more populated than he expected. This area in front of the towering cathedral was filled with several clumps of people clustered together. It looked more like a market than a religious gathering, except there was no one barking wares or searching for customers. Instead, the expressions ranged from the sedate faces of the judges to a combination of earnestness, worry, and anger from the petitioners.

As Orrend led him past the closest knot, Joe was able to eavesdrop on the conversation. The parties were mediating some dispute regarding horses. The next cluster seemed to be negotiating damages from a fallen wall. Each group was overseen by two gold-shrouded judges. Joe liked the idea that judgment was not in the hands of a single judge but by the agreement of two.

After passing his fifth mediation group, Joe noticed an oddity. Of the gold-robed judges he had seen on this plaza, only one had been human. While he was no expert in Iluminaria, so far, humans had been the most common race he had seen in Crowfield, Herons’ Reef, and on the short walk through Peregrine Harbor. Yet here in this courtyard, it was obvious that humans were not typically drawn to this church of law.

Taking a quick headcount, it looked like the races that did find this goddess appealing were dwarves, jotun, centaurs, and a metallic-skinned race known as Archons. There were several anthropomorphic races, too. Specifically, those animals that lived in packs. Joe saw people with wolf, deer, or geese-like features, as well as a few other varieties.

Joe wondered what that said about humans. Did humankind generally value liberty over justice and so were less drawn to the calling of law?

While Joe was rolling that thought around in his head, Orrend joined a short line of people waiting to speak with a gold-garbed clerk who looked like a small shaggy-haired minotaur. The man was only an inch shorter than Joe but had at least twice his bulk. Not knowing the race, Joe gave the yak-like priest a light assessment.

Bo Zarni: Sarmaree: Cleric/Justicar 25

Joe turned to talk with his escort but the templar’s manner clearly indicated he was unwilling to engage in conversation. Orrend’s eyes were locked on the person in front of them, not sparring Joe even an occasional glance.

“Geez, Hawking. How much trouble am I actually in here?” he thought.

Joe waited, but the spectral voice must not have felt his question was a system-info-worthy inquiry. Before Joe could work up a good swear at the unpredictable entity, Orrend cleared his throat to get Joe’s attention. The templar tipped his head to indicate they should head up the stairs leading into the great cathedral.

“Joe! Wait!” called a voice on the wind as he placed his foot on the first step. Both he and the priest turned to see Hah’roo leading a gnome through the crowded courtyard. The short-legged woman’s feet periodically lifted off the ground, propelled by Hah’roo’s wind abilities. The sharply dressed lady was not unnerved by her gliding accelerated pace, if anything, she seemed thrilled by it. The pair swirled up to Joe and the dwarf in a flurry of tangled gusts. The galeling looked worried, but the gnome at her side was beaming a bright smile from the excitement of her tempestuous travel.

“Good to see you again, Daughter Rozzetta.” Orrend intoned towards the small woman with Hah’roo. He turned back to Joe. “Well, it appears as though you now have a worthy advocate, sir.”

“Thank you, Father Farpeak,” the little woman stated respectfully to the templar, breathing heavily from her dash to catch them. She turned to Joe and added, “Hello. My name is Rozzetta Ithnikcot. Hah’roo says you have an interesting case.”

Rozzetta was taller than Kaid by a few inches, making her about three and a half feet tall. She had rich brown skin, and her peach-colored hair was woven into a pair of curling braids. Her eyes are what really caught Joe’s attention. They were greener than Joe had ever seen eyes before. They were like beads of emerald glass instead of the jade-like color of the green eyes of Earth. She wore robes that matched her eyes and carried a shoulder bag stuffed with pages and writing implements.

“Nice to meet you, Ma’am. As for my case, I hope it's an easy one. ‘Interesting’ sounds worrisome.”

“I asked around, Joe,” Hah’roo interjected. “People say she is amazing.”

“Your friend is correct,” the dwarven cleric confirmed. “Counselor Ithnikcot is a formidable advocate, even if her infatuation with arguing sometimes overreaches the argument itself.”

“Oh come on, you guys knew I was right on principle with Magister Keviten,” Rozzetta exclaimed vehemently at the black-hair priest. “That loophole was such a dirty trick.”

Seeing Hah’roo’s and Joe’s confused expressions, she added, “I lost a case yesterday on a shockingly awful technicality.”

“The Law is the Law, daughter,” Orrend stated. The elder dwarf stopped for a moment and looked around, before conspiratorially bending his head closer to the gnome. “You may find consolation in the fact,” he muttered in a low voice, “your arguments yesterday may result in that law being changed. I heard Grand Marshal Stelades plans to commune with Glauri sometime today regarding the removal of that clause from Divine Law.”

“That doesn’t help the grain cooperative now,” Rozzetta huffed. Orrend’s brows loomed over his gray eyes, but he did not speak further. The diminutive advocate let out one more huff before setting aside yesterday and giving Joe her full attention.

“Don’t worry, Joe. I don’t think they can pull any ancient obscure statute in your case,” the gnome stated. She paused and then turned to the templar. “They can’t, can they? Do you guys have some antiquated anti-assessment laws hidden in some church cellar that the rest of us don’t know about?”

“To my knowledge, no. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. If you all would please follow me, I will find out if a courtroom has been assigned to us, and if not, I will get us one.”

“How would they know to assign us a courtroom?” Joe asked. “We just got here. I just asked for the Fourfold Court only a couple of minutes ago.”

“Divination is one of the church's strengths. Being able to ascertain truths is vital to our calling. I am sure that a multitude of diviners perked up as soon as you thought about requesting a Fourfold Court, before you even said the words.”

Father Orrend looked back towards Telemont Square. “Additionally, that spectacle in the plaza was rather conspicuous. I imagine quite a few pages headed straight for the Glauri’s Cathedral the moment Azbekt chose it, hoping to earn a coin for that current tidbit of news.”

The dwarf turned back and led the group up the stairway. They passed through a pair of massive doors and into the cathedral's antechamber.

Joe could not help but gawk like a tourist. The walls were covered in ornate carvings, interspaced with stunning statuary. There was more gold here than Joe had ever seen before. The walls were made of either white marble or a dark gray polished stone, both of which highlighted the bright metal ornamentations. Joe was amazed at how well the cathedral balanced a Taj Mahal-like opulence with the stern severity of an official building.

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They stopped for a moment while Father Orrend spoke with a church administrator. The party then turned and was ushered through a pair of golden doors. The room was smaller than Joe expected. He was thinking of a full courtroom with rows of benches, a jury box, and a judge’s bench. There were no benches for attendees, just a long desk at the front of the room with four large throne-like chairs behind it. In the center of the room, there was a single simple stone seat surrounded by a rune-carved balustrade. There were a few chairs against the right walls but there were no tables for the lawyers to sit at.

The most prominent ornamentation was a framed stone tablet that filled almost the entire left wall of the room. It looked like a gigantic chalkboard, though the stone was a gray marble, not slate.

The templar led Joe to the circle of railing and indicated he should step through the gap in the railing. As soon as Joe entered the circle, words began to appear on the marble slab. It looked like an invisible artisan was instantly carving the letters into the stone. They read:

JOSEPH MORRIS is accused of CONTEMPT, SEDITION, and

BREACH OF ORDER against the KINGDOM OF DUSKURG by the

ORDER OF THE GOLDEN DECREE, the DUCHY OF AMBERWROTH,

and the PRIESTHOOD OF THE CELESTIAL THRONE.

“Take a seat and hold out your arm,” Orrend stated, drawing Joe’s attention away from the magical wall. It was a command, not a request, but the templar tone was not harsh or critical. Joe did so, and the dwarf removed the manacle. “You have a few minutes to speak with your advocate before the judges arrive. Do not attempt to leave the box unless you are given leave to do so. It will inflict serious harm should you attempt to exit the confinement sigil or if you try to invoke your spells or powers while you are within it.”

Turning, he gave another small bow to the gnome, uttering “Daughter Rozzetta,” before departing the room.

“We need to clean you up,” the small councilor declared. “You look like a troublemaker with all that grime and blood. Oh, and that nose.”

“Shouldn’t we leave it to show just how biased the Phealtians have been,” Hah’roo asked. “Beating a bound captive has to be frowned on.”

“We will not win any points trying to shame the Golden Decree. Pick any militant order and you find some form of zealotry,” Rozzetta answered with a shake of her head.

She reached into her belt pouch and pulled out a bottle of water and a cloth. The bottle was bigger than the whole bag. Considering just how many he had seen recently, Joe assumed that portable extradimensional spaces were fairly common. Assuming he did not get banished to the lands of the Fey, Joe would definitely see if he could get himself one of those.

He took the cloth and wiped his face. Hah’roo pointed to areas he missed. Each time the cloth came away from his skin, it was filthy, but after a second, the stains vanished from the fabric. More practical magic. Joe realized he had not looked in a mirror, showered, or even had a chance to wash lately. The last good cleaning he had was riding the rapids away from Crowfield. As the gnome kept gesturing to his clothes as well, Joe realized she wanted a full-body scrubbing.

“Now, what can we do about that nose?” Rozzetta mused.

“Is it really that bad?”

“You look like a street thug, Joe,” Hah’roo supplied. “A scrawny one at that.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Hah’roo smirked at him, but then her eyes focused on the middle of his face again. “I can break it again and hold it straight while he reheals it.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun,” Joe groaned. “Okay. Do it quick.”

“Wait!” the small woman exclaimed. “Unless he has a passive healing effect, he will not be able to cast a healing spell inside the circle. The last thing I need is for him to look worse.”

Hah’roo lowered her arms and sheepishly winced. “That was close. Sorry, Joe. You’re stuck with a semi-squashed nose for the time being.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rozzetta ordered. “We only have a few minutes. Let’s focus here. I need to know everything you can think of. The good news is you only have a few days to cover, from what Hah’roo had told me. Talk fast. Tell me everything you recall since meeting Sir Groven.”

“First meeting. Ok. It started with my transition to Illuminaria. I’m a newcomer. Sir Groven was the first guy I met, and he was kind of an unpleasant dick for no reason. I said ‘hi’ and he looked at me like I was dog-crap stuck to his shoe.”

“He’s a knight, Joe. Most common folk don’t just intrude on a knight unless they have a reason for it.”

“Well, I didn’t know that then. That is not how things in my world work. Where I came from, there is no caste system. So, later on in the day, when he came up to me again, I still was not in the mindset of nobility versus commoner. I had only been in this world for a few hours, but already I had done more and had more happened to me in that short span of time than in the last several years of my old life. Also, I had a splitting headache. I was learning how to juggle mana use for the first time.”

“I am assuming this is where the contempt charge arose from,” Rozzetta asked, looking up from the notepad she had been scribbling on.

“Yeah. I mouthed off a bit. It really was not that bad. I didn’t swear at him or anything. I just was overly familiar. In hindsight, given the knight versus peasant divide, I know now it was a pretty stupid thing to do. But again, remember, I had only been in this world for half a day, after dying a few hours earlier on Earth. It was not a seditious act. It was an honest mistake.”

“Well, they are going to try and make it look like sedition. They will want to establish a pattern of dissidence. What happened next?”

“Well, then the townsfolk came and interceded. They ask Groven to …”

“Sir Groven!” the tiny lawyer corrected. “Bind those two words together in your head, Joe. If you miss his honorific even once in front of the judges, they will note it and take it as a sign of intended disrespect.”

“Sorry. Ok. They asked Sir Groven to go easy on me since I was a newcomer.”

“And I’ll bet my left small toe the prosecution will use that to state you were inciting rebellion.”

“You can’t be serious!” Joe barked, looking between the two women. Hah’roo shrugged, but Rozzetta locked eyes with Joe, letting him know she was anything but joking. “Oh, man. This is crazy!”

“You can worry about the incredulity of your accusations later. Keep going. What happened next?”

“Um. Well, he left, and then everyone gave me a minute to figure out the prophetic mark I got from dying a second time on the same day. After that …”

“Wait! Stop! Prophetic mark?! You were marked on your first day here in Illuminaria?” Rozzetta’s eyes were opened into wide saucers of disbelief.

“First afternoon, really,” Joe amended.

“Show me!” the gnome demanded. Joe rolled up his sleeve to reveal the glittering dark symbol etched into his right forearm. “Ohhhh,” the little woman breathed. “This now makes sense. The church of Phealti can be fanatically strict, but the amount of pressure they have exerted regarding this minor infraction was extraordinarily excessive, even for them. That is until now.”

“Rozzetta,” Hah’roo breathed. “Please explain. I’m afraid I don’t understand why Azbekt would have altered his contract with me to go after Joe for something so trivial either.”

“The Mark of Death has always been a contentious gift from the One Above. The Thirteenth Omen is the mark of change. That doesn’t seem like a bad thing for the bearer of the mark or even most folk out there. Change could be good, or it could be bad. But things are always changing, so we don’t give it much thought. But if you are part of the well-established order, someone bearing that mark is a sign of trouble. They don't want the world to change. They don’t want to chance their seats of power being overthrown.” the small woman stopped for a moment to let that thought sink into Joe’s and Hah’roo’s heads.

“The stories we have of the Death Mark,” she continued. “speak of founders and leaders. Men and women who have brought something new from the old ways. Unfortunately, the old ways are their ways … and they will do almost anything to prevent a harbinger of change from turning the tides away from their interests. That is why this case of a minor insult is being inflated into a grand inquisition.”

“Are you kidding me!” Joe barked. “How is that fair!”

“It’s not,” Rozzetta stated, bearing a wide smile that did not at all match her words. “But I don’t plan to fight fair either.”