>>5266565“Am I to travel alone?” you ask, instead.
“No,” the Chaplain replies. “You will be allotted a small retinue. You are a valuable asset, to be preserved.”
That buoys your ego a little. Then, the female beside you speaks up, surprising you both.
“My Chaplain,” she says, deferring even more than is proper by acknowledging his title before his familiar relationship to her, “may I number among them?”
“I think not,” The Chaplain says, after a pause.
The Novice surprises you again, by speaking out of turn and without any deference at all, saying “But such a mission all but requires a Serpent Priest!”
“You are NOT a Priest, but a Sister—not even Priestess yet, in truth,” The Chaplain reprimands her. “You have studies to attend to here, and an inexperienced female offers little that a more seasoned male does not.”
“I have excelled at the mending of wouns, the neutralizing of poisons and venoms, and the study of—”
“ENOUGH.” The Chaplain slams down his snake-headed staff with finality, silencing even this overly-ambitious daughter of his…
But even so, she looks to you, with a tinge of desperation. It occurs to you that she, too, has surely never seen the sky.
What do you do?
>Accept the assignment with gratitude and, despite the pathetic quarry, excitement to see the surface>Ask further questions about the assignment ahead [such as?]>Express your discontent with the nature of this mission>Request material aid [such as?]Do you speak up on behalf of The Novice?
>Yes, out of empathy>Yes, out of a desire for her skills and knowledge>Yes, because you wish to flex your authority and to have her indebted to you>Yes, because bantering with her was actually quite fun>No, because you want a more experienced Serpent Priest>No, to spite her 