1517, four years ago.
The buyers, money in their pocket, browse in the market. The sellers are in fierce competition; the prize would be none but the buyers’ money. The next winner seems to a butcher who has his eyes on the coin that is about to be paid to him.
A loud voice rises from the stand in the middle of the main square, and the buyer, money in his hand, turns from the butcher to Pretzel, the owner of the voice. Pretzel, who on behalf of the Pope sells indulgences to raise money for St. Peter’s Basilica, shows off his salesmanship skills. Standing at a safe distance, far from a blazing fire, he explains to the crowd that indulgence is a certificate for good deeds.
In front of Pretzel, a piglet that hangs by a rope upside down squeals for its life. Pretzel’s assistant pulls on a rope when he gives the signal, and with that, the piglet is moved to be right above the fire. All eyes turn from Pretzel to the fire.
Disturbed almost immediately, a kid in his mother’s arm closes his eyes and hugs her tightly. The rest of the crowd who watches the show must be feeling sorry for the piglet too, but apparently not enough to object.
Soon, the piglet whimpers in pain. A woman in the crowd cannot tolerate it anymore. “Enough!” she shouts.
A man backs her up. “Somebody save the poor animal—”
“And who would save your poor parents?” Pretzel interjects.
Almost unanimously, the audience turns their eyes from the piglet to Pretzel. The man is in shock right away. The woman similarly looks petrified.
Having people’s attention, Pretzel starts his speech. “The soul of your father, your dear ones, your beloved mother are being punished in purgatory. ‘Help me, my dear,’ they scream, begging you for some mercy. Their hopeless eyes are all on you. Yes, you! and you, and you… and you.” Pretzel points his finger to the crowd and makes eye-contact with many peasants, each looks more naive and gullible than the other. Mouths half-open, they are staring at Pretzel with hypnotized eyes, impatiently waiting for him to continue. He does continue finally, after a long pause.
“… You can save them. Yes, you can. You can save them from repentance by your good deeds. And what better deed than helping build St. Peter’s Basilica, certified by the Pope himself.”
Eyes highly dilated, a naive smile covers peasants’ faces the moment Pretzel offers them a solution; a certified solution.
Pretzel shows a coin to the crowd prior to dropping it into the coffer before him. “As soon as a coin in the coffer rings,” he says, putting his hand to his ear, “a soul from purgatory springs.”
Closing his eyes and lowering his head, Pretzel finishes his act by raising his hands toward the sky. Like a frozen statue, he remains in this pose for quite a long moment. He hears nothing but his own breathing.
The silence finally breaks with a coin ringing in the coffer. Another one. And another one.
His hand still up and his head down, Pretzel hears the rings. Eyes slightly open, he secretly watches the success of his performance. Soon, peasants shove each other to reach the coffer. Pretzel no longer can hide the smug smile that gradually grows on his face.
Completely forgotten, the poor piglet on fire is now dead, with its tortured skin vividly burnt. Enthusiastically trying to reach the coffer, the man and the woman who initially objected to animal cruelty, pass by the burnt pig without even noticing it anymore.
Pretzel proudly watches all the commoners rushing over to the coffer; all but one. He gulps in fear when his eyes lock with Luther’s angry eyes.
Standing still, he has a couple of thick academic books under his arm. He is in the way of the last of commoners who with a coin in their hand pass by him to reach the coffer. What harm can a nerd like you possibly do, Dr. Luther? Pretzel thinks and smiles.
“No, Thomas,” Pretzel hears the scream and turns to the voice. Andreas Karlstadt, the respectable chancellor of Wittenberg University has gripped the wrist of a youngster with the fires of unleashed fury in his eyes. “I know him, Thomas something. He is a nerd too,” Pretzel thinks, sneering. A stone drops from Thomas’s hand when he opens his fist. Pretzel does his best not to look scared. Still giving him a dirty look, Thomas does not take his eyes off Pretzel when Andreas pulls him toward Luther.
Standing by the coffer, a preacher hands over signed certificates of indulgences. Overjoyed by the volume of the money that is being collected, he shouts: “Hurry up, sinners. Hurry up and do a certified good deed. There is no sin that cannot be wiped out by the Pope-certified good deeds. The indulgence could forgive everything, even… even… even one who had violated the Virgin Mary.”
Breathing heavily like a raging bull, Luther is about to explode from fury. His faith is being ridiculed before his eyes, and he is not the type to remain silent. There is a rebel in him, intolerant to injustice, who is about to take over and introduce to the world a new Martin Luther. Andreas and Thomas, having the same raging face as Luther’s, join him from left and right—The union of the three reformers begins.
The sound of a nail being hammered fills up the space…