<div class="floatleft">(http://www.britsattheirbest.com/cr_actor_keith_ledger.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><span class="bbc_u">The Lion of the Press:</span></span></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">Campbell Garrett</span></span><br/><em>Adventurer, Explorer and Famed Reporter for the Korremberg Press</em><br/>Character Sheet (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=168844); 41 HP; AC 19<br/><hr/><br/>I had spent a few minutes in delirium, as it had been nearly a fortnight since I had eaten correctly, when I became aware of someone speaking to me in a most agreeable voice.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=53854.msg2492437#msg2492437">Quote from: Katina Tarask on 28-11-2009, 07:57:10</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">In time, I finally address him.  "Mister Garrett.  You <em>were</em> in the business of selling papers.  However, when we are on a mission, that is a secondary consideration.  Starting the moment we leave this room, you are in the 'accomplish the mission and get out alive' business, and if you have a spare moment afterward, perhaps you can indulge your writing."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>I glanced behind myself to see if she might have been talking to another Mr. Garrett, but alas, there was nothing save my shadow.  I turned to look at her and smiled childishly before saying:  "Blo' n' thonder, lass!  Y'speak it how eet is!"  I had to think whether or not I liked that.  I think I did.   "I loik it!  How'sabout we all maik noice an' merry, an' hiphop to it an' all.  I prrromise I won' get in yer' way."<br/><br/>I was very overcome with how<em>sensible</em>she seemed to me now, despite the fact that I thought she was a cow.  An attractive cow, but a cow nonetheless.<br/><br/>This meeting isn't so bad.  Usual perps.  Uncertain woman.  Overzealous human.  Attractive, mildly intriguing female with funny accent.  And verbose sociopathic machine.  Oh, and then there's the sensible person.  Me?  I bring the beers.  I wish I had some now.  It would make all of this so much easier to understand, because I still don't get what the fuck we're supposed to do.  There's a monk pagoda, we infiltrate it, to what purpose, I don't know.  We do something at the pagoda.  Then we leave, but we do all of this in semi-secrecy, because we want them (I don't know who them is) to think that someone else did whatever it is we actually did.  On top of this, whatever it is that we do should be discreet, but the major wants us to really not be discreet about it.  Though I'm a stickler for freedom, I dislike open-ended tasks.  They remind me of the philosophy papers I had to write back in Korrenberg, where no expectations were laid out, making the task of completing said papers somewhat difficult because of the ambiguity of it all.<br/><br/>But I couldn't really say, 'uh, Major?  Why are we doing this?' now could I?  We were totally beyond that point.  We are two stupid people in a never-ending argument.  She doesn't like me.  I don't like her.  Maybe she had explained it, but I must confess that I never kept up with monks.  Monks.  Ugh.  The word brings bile to my tongue.<br/><br/>Anyhow, I get up and I march out with the group, in a haze.  I don't try to look any more stupid than I already do, and try my best to fall in.<br/><br/>"No wunder Karrnathi lost de' war," I mutter to myself once outside.