Chime

[Roger Smith]

The man recoiled, at the words, as if struck across the face. "Wh-Wha-What?! I-I don't know what you're referring to, Father!" He tried to regain his composure, taking a step back and shaking his head. "I think you're just a bit paranoid, maybe...being newly arrived and all as you said. But it's nothing to fret over. I'm sure we can rectify this misunderstanding and come to an agreement!"

Anderson's arms slowly unfolded from behind his back, falling to rest at his sides. "Lo, mine eye hath seen all this, mine ear hath heard and understood it," he said quietly, softly. And yet for all the gentleness to it, the words were hard, cold, and unyielding. The gentle glow in his glasses shimmered, flickering from gold to orange. "What ye know, the same do I know also: I am not inferior unto you."

Now the leader of the group blocking the road stepped back again, eyes going wide. "What are you on about, now, you daft man? When did we ever say we were—"

"When ya spoke up just now, boss! Said he was just newly arrived, all confused and uninformed about the state o' things! Think you made 'im mad, you did," one of the cohorts spoke up. The one with the spear.

"Oh, for the love of..." The leader ran a hand over his face. "L-Listen here, Father, it was all just..."

"Surely I would speak to the Almighty, and I desire to reason with God!" Anderson's voice rose, taking on a steel-hard cast to it. And all those within earshot flinched, recoiling away from the chill that swept through them at the sound of the words. The sound of preaching, long-memorized words, recited with passion and belief behind them. "But ye are forgers of lies! Ye are all physicians of no value!" A flourish, hands curling outward into rough, clawed grip with a series of crackling pops, and Anderson flexed just slightly at the knees, like an animal, ready to pounce."O that ye would altogether hold your peace! and it should be your wisdom." A flash of silver, and in his hands were blades. With expert precision he twirled them, taking a grip upon one forward, the point of it down toward the earth below. The other spun about in a dizzying streak of silvery light, coming to rest clutched in a reverse grip, pointing back along his arm.

The assembled brigands and robbers recoiled again, backing up against their barricade. All of them had taken up weapons now, gripping them tightly. The two with crossbows had hefted them, leveling them and keeping them trained on the lone man in the middle of the road. "He's lost it, he has..." one of them muttered, voice low and quivering.

"I don't think he ever had it!" one of the swordsmen spoke up. "Damn fool's spouting nonsense, now! Callin' us a bunch of liars and then rambling on and on about whatever!"

"And then he went and drew weapons outta nowhere and all! What's his deal? He really think he can fight his way outta this? Out of all of us, here?"

The leader merely hefted his axe, swinging it up and over with one arm, until it rested against his shoulder. "Well, lads...let's not disappoint the good Father. Seems like he means to start some violence here. So we'd best make an example of him! After all, it's dangerous 'round these parts. Wouldn't be proper at all if no one ever died or came to harm! Would make us terrible liars and all." This was met with a round of jeering and laughing, and the rattling of weapons.

"Right, then!" Free hand came up to mouth, index finger and thumb tucking between lips and a sharp, shrill whistle coming forth. "COME ON OUT, LADS! We've got us some company to entertain! Let's us show the Father here how Bertrand's Brigade entertain people who try to give us a bad name, eh?!" Another chorus of jeering laughter met the call to arms, and a half dozen more brigands came traipsing and tromping into view from behind and around the blockade, forming out into a wide semicircle before Anderson. Another half dozen came slithering and clambering out of the bushes, shrubs and ditches off the road, leaving him virtually surrounded in every way, except perhaps to retreat back down the way he'd come.

For his part, Anderson remained still, watching silently. His gaze shifted only slightly, to either side. Observing and counting the number that had come out of the woodwork and arrayed themselves against him. Twenty-five of them... A fair number. He was drastically outnumbered, and even with the powers given to him by the Lord, he was still weakened. This was not going to be a fight he could afford to take lightly. It was one he would have to take with the utmost seriousness. It was his mission. His personal mission, of divine justice. He had left behind the world created by God's own hands, but that would be no matter. The tenets and beliefs he followed were etched deeply into his mind. He knew them by heart. And he would follow them. He would be the first of his Lord, even here, and strike down such injustice wherever he came across it.

A long, low breath hissed out of his lips, as they curled back to reveal his teeth. And if he was to undertake such a mission...he would enjoy it. He squared off his stance, blades at the ready, and crouched down, readying himself to spring. "Come, ye children, hearken unto me: I will teach you the fear of the LORD."