[Suzerain of Sheol]

The Chaplain stares across the group for another moment longer, then collects the remainder of his dignity and rights his chair to take a seat.

"The Lord Celestrine," he replies to Dante, "commands the defense of this city, as he once commanded its faith in the days of yore, ere the Christ came before him with the Rod." He rubs at his forehead tiredly.

"We have survived, you see, by that gift. The last gift of our LORD. Do any of you know what happened to him, the first Son of God? At Armageddon? I suppose not, few do. It hardly matters now."

"I do not sense malice from you, and for that alone you live yet." He nods at his towering guard, who still holds motionless, apparently showing no interest in the proceedings but surely ready to explode with violence at the merest command. "But I am a frail man," he continues, "Not long for this world, I fear. I do not know what Lord Zaccheus will make of you, but if you are friends of humankind, he will surely show you at least mercy, if not friendship. I see that you have been through great struggles. It may be that you can find healing here. Do not let what you may have heard of the man sway you, he is not wicked, merely zealous in his protection of our species. The sons of the Satan, the legions of the Destroyer, the abominations of Semyaza, they shall be eradicated, but friends... friends shall find the closest haven to Paradise left on Earth."

He falls silent then, looks to his guests for questions. With a gesture, he has his guard open a communications channel to, presumably, the Celestrine's office to arrange for a meeting. He does not seem to be in any hurry.