Quoted By:
“Alright, there you go,” Says the self-satisfied man after plopping down a large set of papers on the messy table between the two of you, “Get at it.”
“Um, what?”
“Your training!” He gestures to the stack with a pudgy hand, “You said you wanted to learn more about your next mission, well, why wait until it’s raining?”
You prod at the stack, flipping through a few pages with a frown. Each seems to be a file of a different Stranger that’s been dispatched. From healers turned rapists to lazy noble heirs turned prodigies. It is altogether a very valuable cache of knowledge readily handed out to someone still new to the organization. You’re almost certain the Lord Inquisitor has just violated at least fifteen rules of the Inquisition. Not that he cares. However, this comes with a problem for you. A very real and complex one.
You [b:lit]hate[/b:lit] studying.
Sure, you were at the top of your class- no, your grade- no your school, but that was because you needed to be. It was required to befit your station and to impress that-that man. Now? You shudder to even think, but, well, you [i:lit]asked[/i:lit] for this. Naturally, you assumed training would be better, more practical, hands-on, if you will. But studying? Extra studying, your stomach churns at the thought, and your grimace must be clear on your face.
“I’m a very busy man, y’know? Don’t have all the time in the world to instruct unfaithful brats, so to prove to me you’re ready to listen to what I have to say, write me a report of each and every case in here. Only then will I help you prepare for the Tournament.”
“But-” You mind catches the insult, “Wait, Unfaithful?”
The fat man nods most seriously, “Why, our base of operations is the most grand Cathedral in the country! And not to brag, but one of the largest buildings in the entire world, yet I haven’t seen you pray here once!”
“That’s-”
“Now what am I supposed to do if I find out one of my Inquisitors isn’t paying the Goddess the respect she’s due? Why, it’s downright shameful, on the scale of an international incident, I’d say! Why I’d say it’s on the same scale as the Yank’s Civil War!-” “Wait civil-” “Never mind that! Why, how about this, hm? Either you give me a detailed report on Every. Single. Case. Or you find a nice park by the river and pray, and I mean really pray. The Goddess deserves nothing less than our eternal servitude, y’know?”
What is happening? “Alright? But how would you-”
He winks with a pudgy eyelid, “Trust me, I’ll know. Now, I’m busy right now. Come back when you're done!” He says before spinning on his chair, putting his feet on the desk, and holding another paper in front of his face. It is blank.
Slowly, you lift yourself from your seat, take the paper stack and-
>Begin to read through them
>Head to a park to pray
>Go find another instructor
>[Write-in]
