The struggling and bound captive was dragged through Godhead Palace by a single Paladin. Dragged, though, was an inaccurate word. It implied their feet touched the ground. Despite being tall and gangly, the captive was held aloft one-handed by the Paladin.
Lady Tabitha was not a very happy Paladin.
Even bringing a captive to God wasn’t enough to put a smile on her face.
When she entered the throne room and into the presence of God, she threw the captive to ground. They skidded along the floor, then came to a stop before the throne. God looked, as he usually did, like a well-muscled, bronzed Hellene.
According to everything Lady Tabitha had learned through her training, the old, false religions had claimed that humans had been crafted from clay, by false gods. God, the true God, had crafted humanity to be his most loyal servants. Humans were to stand above perfidious elves (useful, but ultimately treasonous), clever goblins (too weak to be fully useful) and the stupid lizardfolk (barely better than beasts, really.)
Was it any wonder that God chose to honor his most favored creations by taking their form and perfecting it? Lady Tabitha had sworn to be chaste – all Paladins only had time for training, service and worship - but looking at his broad chest and muscular body sent a sinful tickle between her thighs. Service and worship could take many forms... She forced the thought aside with a clenched jaw.
She removed her helmet and mask, set it down beside her and knelt in the same smooth motion. She bowed her head.
“Paladin,” God said, cheerfully. “I hear that you have breached the outer walls of New Athens?”
“Yes, God,” Lady Tabitha said, her voice firm as she remained looking at the floor. She would not mention it had cost her twice as many men as she had wished. That the city had not been taken down by cannon and clever tactics, but rather, because she had been forced to throw men at the walls in waves. That the false gods had escaped in the slow, grinding confusion of the battle.
She would mention such things later, after God had been distracted by the prisoner.
“And who is this you have brought?” God stood, walking to the prisoner. “Is it one of the pretender gods?”
“No, my lord,” Lady Tabitha said. “She’s... something else.”
God did not bend down to lift the prisoner. Instead, he simply twitched his fingers and an invisible force clutched the woman by the arms and lifted her up. The bag covering her head yanked off. She was a mousy little thing, with brown hair, a sprawl of freckles. Her eyes, though, were protected by a curious set of metal frames and glittering glass. Strange, boxy protrusions stuck to either side of the eye covers, both glinting with more glass.
“Who are you?” God murmured, looking at her.
The woman gulped.
Stammered.
“D-D-D-Doctor Kathleen Cole,” she whispered.
God blinked.
Then laughed.
“Why, Dr. Cole!” he boomed. “Your colleagues have been wondering where you were.” He waved his hand forward. Several guards stomped forward and he tossed the terrified woman from Earth to them. “Take her to the dungeons. And remind the others when you do...”
God smirked.
“They can work for me or they can die.”