Post by Ocean on Jan 16, 2020 1:10:09 GMT
WITH FIRE AND BRIMSTONE
Oghma Mountain Range, Forest Area
Oghma Mountain Range, Forest Area
A scent was on the wind, something odd and repulsive, to the point where it disturbed even the delicate nose of the archbishop herself.
The order of investigation was quietly given to those of certain authority. At first, dogs were put to use to follow the scent, nevertheless, it seems that even their brave hearts faltered from the unseen.
Ergo, a braver heart with a brave nose was required, and from a small list not including the archbishop (for such a task was unthinkable for someone as important as she), an individual was indeed selected via the casting of lots.
She was a professor, who, on the surface appeared to agree wholeheartedly, but inwardly wrote wrathful, free verse poems of anger for having elected to place it on a day of rest. On this day, she had planned to take her beloved son on a day of exploration throughout the monastery grounds, yet the plans were dashed by one very important person’s insecurities.
The old patrol sergeant, Montgomery, was placed on the head of the investigative patrol, tagged along by a motley of other skilled individuals.
The moment they had stepped out of the monastery upon horseback, the visage of the professor was very candid with brows creased, eyes dark, and steam seething from her very scalp, something that this particular group of individuals were familiar with since the day they had met her. Her horse, on the other hand, stood in place, trembling in fear of what manner of irate being sat upon its saddle.
“It’ll be alright, shouldn’t take the whole day to see what it’s about,” said Montgomery with a nod in her direction.
“Monty,” she responded with a huff, “If it was by myself, this whole ‘investigation’ would be over and done within minutes, but lo and behold,” she emphasized her words with a sarcasm and a toss of her arms, “I am to ride a horse. A horse. My anger stills him. Shall I walk to the appointed place?”
The patrol sergeant rolled his neck back and clenched his eyelids, a low groan reverberating in his throat, “Madame, I was about to ask you to be less angry and tell you we’ve got something called protocol—“
“Then why would you mention that, Monty?”
“Just to say that we all need to know exactly what it is we’re dealing with. Sure, you could take off and be back, but whose to say how you dealt with the problem? I can’t say that the archbishop—“
“—trusts me? I have only been with you all for two whole years, after all! How is it that I am to take the reigns of a professor for Garreg Mach to teach fledgling warmongers and their minions how to survive? The fact that I was a part of this whole ‘casting of lots’ without actually knowing about it? Surely someone doesn’t trust me quite yet!”
Montgomery let out a long sigh, fingers pressed against his eyebrows.
“... Stop being unreasonable and get over it. I sure as day would like to spend this day with my wife instead of listening to you whine about something so trivial! Don’t you think whatever it is we’re looking into can be potentially dangerous to your son?”
The professor rubbed her thumbs against her index fingers, sucked in air until she could no longer do so, and then exhaled.
“The fell wind emerges from the south,” she remarked, “Let us check along the border of the Adrestian Empire.” Her horse let out a small chuff as it began to trot forward.
The other patrol members let out a sigh of relief, while Montgomery shrugged his shoulders with the corner of his lip tucked back.
I’ll have to keep that one in the pocket.