Welcome to Nidaros

"Thunderhorse!" Doc shouts as the viking throws a backpack towards the front of the car while grabbing for his assault rifle. "Rule #1! Do No Harm!"

Thunderhorse delays a moment, fury burning in his eyes. His will to murder the priest is quickly put down by Doc's forceful words, but he continues to stare at him like a dog dying to disobey his master.

Mark also seems to be riled about something, but his anger is directed towards Thunderhorse. "You ain't killin' no preachers 'round me, heathen." His hand is edging towards his pistol holster.

Doc turns to him. "Mark, now is NOT the time. We'll talk about it later, just relax right now."

Mark backs down and turns to glare angrily out the window. Some of the villagers who were edging forward back off dramatically.

Doc continues. "The only way to rescue the girls is by guile and smooth talk. If that doesn't work, then we resort to more drastic measures. Right now, we have the upper hand, but it would be foolish to play it too soon and bring their armies down on us when we might be able to just get in and out without a fuss! Now, both of you, stay in the Jeep unless I give the signal."

Doc takes a deep breath. He checks to make sure his .44 is strapped and secure within easy reach. He puts on his best smile and calmly gets out of the Jeep. The priest, busy reading through a Latin passage while unsurely holding his crusifix forward, stops what he's doing. The crowd holds their breath. The soldiers lean their halbreds forward.

Doc thinks a moment. The sunglasses can translate any speech he hears, but not what he says. He can set them to repeat what he says in any language for him alone, so that he can say it out loud. He decides to go for the Latin instead, as it will help in convincing the priest of the whopper he's got to lay on him. "Bonus dies!"

"[...it is?]" The priest replies, hesitantly and unconfidently.

Doc walks around the Jeep cautiously but confidently, stopping at the base foot of the church stairs. The soldiers' halbreds lean forward a bit more. Doc thinks quickly back to his medieval history classes in college and the long lists of kings, popes, and royal bathroom attendants he had to memorize. Ah, yes. It was in a book he read just today.

"[I have been sent by his Holiness, Pope Alexander II. We have with us a friend of his, the Duke of Bologna.]" He points to Thunderhorse, frothing at the mouth through the car window.

The priest says nothing.

"[The Duke has been stricken with a madness. His Holiness prayed for his friend, and was given a vision from God. Only the blessing of a certain nun from these lands will cure him. Once his madness is relieved, he will become an ambassador to the East. He is to aid the kingdom of Prestor John from being lost to the Muslims and pagans of the Orient.]"

"[...Who are you?]" The priest says at last. He's somewhat more comefortable now, but still very unsure. He seems to be buying it, though.

"[I am DaVinci, artist and engineer, servant of His Holiness. And what is your name?]"

"[I am Primate Kristenson. What is this...thing?]"

"[It is a horseless carraige, Primate.]" Doc replies. "[By divine inspiration I built it for this errand. It is drawn by the angels themselves.]"

The soldiers look at each other incredulously. Someone in the crowd chuckles. No one else can understand what they're saying. Primate Kristenson doesn't seem to buy it. Doc's hold on him is faultering.

"[How did you come to be here? These men tell me you simply appeared. Is it some kind of witchcraft? How do I know you are not an agent of Lucifer?]"

"[It was a miracle! As we sat in this carraige, His Holiness asked for a blessing from Saint Peter, and suddenly we find ourselves before your church! You must be blessed for Him to have brought us to you!]" Doc drops to his knees and throws his hands in the air. "[We thank you, O Lord, for this blessing and miracle, to deliver us safely on the winds into the arms of those who would assist us in our time of crisis!]"

This giant smoke donut blows straight up the Primate's ass with intricate precision. Doc can nearly see him blush. The priest motions for the guards to stand at ease. "[Welcome then, DaVinci, to Nidaros, and may God bless and keep you on your quest. Come, let us break bread together and celibrate!]"

"[Thank you, but our mission is dire. We must find a nun called Jazelle. She is at a tower governed by a man called Nathan.]"

"[Ah, yes. Abbot Nathan. A peculiar man. He runs the Abbey of the Morning Star on top of Oksskolten in Nordland. It is ten days north by horse or angel, I'm sure.]"

Doc sunglasses bring up a map of the region and plots a route. It's about 290 miles over rough terrain. The map claims it's a seven and a half hour trip by car, but it also claims there's a toll road, speed limits, and roundabouts. So it could be longer or shorter, depending on the actual road conditions, if there is one.

"[I beg you, stay and rest a while so that we might ready a caravan to come with you on your trip.]"