"Err...yes. Tylunth. Sit down, please."
"Yes, Witchfinder-General, what is it?"
"It's about your request for a management position. It seems that some of your co-workers feel that you're not the easiest person to work with..."
"WHAT!? Who says that? On what basis!?"
"Well, there's your nickname..."The Oppressor." And the sign in your office that says "The beatings will continue until morale improves."
"Oh, come on...lots of people have that sign."
"Well, yes, but you actually ACT on it."
Hmm... been thinking bout this. In that case whats the difference between the "face" and the "Leader" because Tylunth has a unique set of social skill for diplomatic areas mostly Maxed out diplomacy with the bluff synergy bonus, but the ability to initmidate from the zhentarim soilder means once I succesfully intimidate someone well... this.
"WHAT!? Who says that? On what basis!?"
"Well, there's your nickname..."The Oppressor." And the sign in your office that says "The beatings will continue until morale improves."
"Oh, come on...lots of people have that sign."
"Well, yes, but you actually ACT on it."
"I see... well Witchfinder-General I understand your decision entirely...
I remember when I first met you in fact that day I came to this unit. There was a man who allegedly came from Keysackra no one knows how he got into the city to this day though really.
One minute he's eating quietly at an open air inn, down on Old Hobb road, next minute he'd turn himself into a multi-headed serpent-thing eating specifically the left arms and hind-quarters of every patron in the bar. Most of the people fled and kept running until one of our teams to arrived, even though there were children playing just outside"
"Yes Tylunth, but I don't see how thats ..."
"Of course you don't general, it was a few years ago I realize, but do you rember what you asked that day?"
"... I asked... what does it take to make the city safe enough for a mans family to get a bite to eat..." through a suddenly parched mouth.
Tylunth leaned back in his chair looking across the old cherrywood desk and in with a sly crocidile smile says:
But I told you even then that "A Harren'daen'kar should never sit down across a table from a man, until he's fully preapared himself that he's capable eating eating everyone in that room, should the lights go out, and the monsters come."
Rocking furhter back in his chair he then lazily cast his one-eyed gaze down the desk then slowly... longingly toward the silvered candlebra holders not yet lit awaiting dusk to become night.
Following his gaze the general stammers for a second. Wipes his brow.
"I,
*ahem* right, Err... uhm right, then...congratulations on your promotion Major, you'll recive documentation on the 'morrow and good luck in the field. Good day! quickly sliding the portfolio across the desk and motioning Tylunth to leave.
................
Witch-finder General Maydack moments after the door to his office shuts, reaches in his desk, retrieving a shot glass and copper flask. He goes to pour but finds his hands shaking slightly and spills some of the vintage courvoisier onto the old cherry wood desk.
He facepalms himself..."Damn, permanent field assignments for that guy!" and breathes a sigh of relief.
