“I greet the Abbot meekly and ask him when my public whipping will be.”
SUCCESS (Superb Diplomacy, rolled -1)
The Abbot stands at his heavy oak desk, his quill scratching against parchment. The silence in the stone room is thick, punctuated only by the rhythmic dripping of water somewhere in the rafters.
Timothy
Your Holiness, forgive my intrusion. I find my spirit heavy with the weight of my trespasses. Might you tell me when the hour of my public whipping shall commence?
Timothy
I need the lash to cleanse this shame. His hand is so steady, so cold. I wonder if he will wield the scourge himself, or leave it to the brothers.
Abbot
You seek the rod with such eagerness, boy. It is a rare repentance in these hollow halls. The bells shall toll at sunset. Be at the courtyard gates by then, or your penance shall be doubled.
Abbot
A curious creature. He craves the sting as if it were mercy. I shall enjoy ensuring the marks are deep enough to truly remember.
+ Scene Quest Added
Secure the records room key before the Abbot leaves
“Will the Abbot enjoy whipping me?”
YES (VeryLikely, rolled 58)
The Abbot pauses his writing, a thin, cruel smile curling his lips as he glances up at Timothy with a predatory glint in his eyes. He sets the quill down with deliberate slowness, his fingers lingering on the desk as if imagining the weight of a lash in his own grip.
Timothy
His eyes betray a hunger that has nothing to do with piety; he does not merely intend to punish me, he intends to savor the sound of my suffering.
“Does the Abbot harbor carnal desires towards me that go beyond the merely sadistic?”
NO (Unlikely, rolled 49)
The Abbot stares at Timothy with a cold, detached malice, his interest rooted entirely in the infliction of pain rather than any base or carnal attraction. His gaze remains clinical and devoid of any such perversion.
“I thank the Abbot for his diligence in ensuring that I am appropriately disciplined, and I ensure that he realises his enjoyable pastime with the whip is God's will.”
SUCCESS (Superb Diplomacy, rolled +0)
Timothy
I offer my deepest gratitude, Father. Your commitment to the order of this house is a beacon, and I find comfort knowing my penance is guided by such steady, pious hands. Truly, the sting of the lash is but a small shadow cast by the light of your holy correction.
Timothy
The Abbot’s eyes narrow, but the malice seems to flicker, replaced by a strange, unsettled confusion at my lack of fear. I have spoken the truth as the liturgy demands, and he cannot deny the sanctity of his own duty.
Abbot
You speak with a strange tongue, boy. Most find the prospect of the courtyard post to be a source of terror, not a cause for theological discourse. Do you truly believe your own words, or is this merely a desperate attempt to find favor before the blood flows?
The Abbot stands, his tall shadow stretching across the stone floor toward Timothy. He reaches out, his fingers brushing the air near Timothy's shoulder as if already measuring the space for the strike.
“I meekly reassure the Abbot that I am truly in awe of his wisdom and sanctity, and that I find it easy to accept chastisement from an authority figure whose position is divinely ordained.”
SUCCESS (Superb Diplomacy, rolled +4)
Timothy
My heart humbles itself before your station, Father. To witness such unwavering discipline in this house is to witness the very hand of God shaping the wayward. I am but a vessel for your instruction, and if my poor, scarred flesh must serve as the canvas for your divine order, then I welcome the strokes of your penance with joy. Your wisdom is the only comfort I know in this wretched existence.
Abbot
This boy is not merely broken. He is... radiant in his surrender. It is unnerving, yet it stirs a dormant, sharper hunger within me.
Abbot
You possess a strange, dangerous purity, Timothy. Most men struggle against the rod, but you offer yourself to it as if it were a benediction. I find your devotion... intoxicating.
The Abbot’s fingers stop inches from Timothy's shoulder, trembling slightly as he maintains his gaze. The records room falls into a heavy, suffocating silence, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of a sand clock on the desk.
Quest Complete
Secure the records room key before the Abbot leaves
Skill Upgrade: Diplomacy Superb→Legendary