<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f0/The_preacher.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>The Preacher<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 3, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Dusk<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The stagecoach trail from Lost Angels to Gomorra<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Jaelyn<br/><hr/>The priest’s eyes caught her shaking, and the priest slipped closer, slipping around to wrap an arm at her waist and begin escorting her up the path towards his simple campsite.  He caught the slight wince from where his hand reached around the deep slices in her arm, and he pulled his hand away, frowning.His hand went to the wooden cross, holding it as his hand once again closed around her injury.<br/><br/><strong>“Et dixit eis euntes in mundum universum praedicate evangelium omni.  Qui crediderit et baptizatus fuerit salvus erit qui vero non crediderit condemnabitur.  Signa autem eos qui crediderint haec sequentur in nomine meo daemonia eicient linguis loquentur novis  Serpentes tollent et si mortiferum quid biberint non eos nocebit super aegrotos manus inponent et bene habebunt.”</strong><br/><br/>His words were whispered, and soft, and the cross was slowly lowered to touch her arm.  It felt cool, against the warm skin and the heat of blood.  Then her arm tingled, and the skin stretched.  The scarlet blood lingered on her skin, but the flesh knit back together, the muscles sewing, cut tendons healing before being colored over by pale, whitened skin.  Beneath the blood from the claws were four small faded scars that looked like they might have come from a childhood injury.<br/><br/><strong>“Amen,”</strong>said the preacher.  He slid off the long back cloat he wore over his shirt, and collar, and slipped it over her shoulders.  He tugged it into place, then guided her to sit near the campfire, while he moved to a small pack which had been hidden behind a rocky seat.  The priest drew a griddle from within the trailpack, and was soon laying on strips of bacon and beans, beginning to let them cook together.<br/><br/><strong>“That – that man, and the horses on your coach – they were servants of evil.”</strong>The preacher said it softly, without the fire and brimstone malice Grimme always attached when he was sermonizing.  Down at the coach, the twin black horses which had pulled the carriage were gone – harnesses hung from the yoke, but there was no sign of the two vicious mares that had tried to take a bite out of Jaelyn.<br/><br/>The priest’s eyes shone in the firelight, and he extended his hands to the fire which still glowed warm and welcoming.  There was a circle traced around the campsite, looking as though it had been made by a  heel dragged around, but there was a palpable sense of serenity within, of security and safety.  The preacher settled onto the rock, poking at the vittles he’d laid out, quiet while her question of what had happened hung in the air.  He looked back to the nearby corpse, his jaw working for a moment before he spoke.<br/><br/><strong>“That man… whoever he was once…at some point, he was shot, or stabbed, or poisoned, or his heart quit or any number of things.  He died, and his spirit was just getting ready to move on when a demon took up residence in his body.  It… it brought him back, and not cause he made a deal with the devil or some such.  But the body… sharin’ real estate between the man, and the demon.  Sometimes the man could be in charge, and sometimes the demon… but somewhere down the line the demon wrestled all the control away from the man.  I smote the demon… but without it, the body dies again, and the spirit moves on like it ought to.”</strong><br/><br/>He paused, licking his lips, and added,<strong>“In the last… thirteen years, I expect I’ve exorcized eighty or so.  Before that, exorcism wasn’t unheard of, but… it certainly didn’t happen often, and if it did it was usually more about a wild-eyed preacher than a town full of possessions.  The gates of hell’ve been thrown open a crack… and now all hell’s breakin’ loose.”</strong><br/><br/>He paused, and licked his lips.<strong>“When was… when was the last time you had communion, Jaelyn?  Outside of Grimme’s church?”</strong>He said both her name, and the mention of Grimme’s church with certainty.  He wasn’t here by accident, or happy providence.<strong>"Because you should... before you eat.</strong>"<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Mark 16:15-18</div><div class="spoiler_body">“And he said to them: Go ye into the whole world and preach the gospel to every creature.  He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved: but he that believeth not shall he condemned.  And these signs shall follow them that believe: In my name they shall cast out devils. They shall speak with new tongues.  They shall take up serpents: and if they shall drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them. They shall lay their hand upon the sick: and they shall recover.”</div></div>