The room I sit in is silent save for tip tapping of my pen on my desk. I, Archbishop Wells, have served the church for sixty-two long years. I pride myself in my work, for it is in service of the earth mother, the goddess who birthed nature upon this world. I do nothing unnecessary like participating in the battle of the Legalist and Mysticism Faction. Legalists reject magic and go by the express word of the earth mother while the mystics embrace magic as part of nature and go by the implied beliefs of the holy mother. While I find myself favorable of the former, I speak nothing of it. The mysticism faction has gone quite radical for the past few decades. It does not help that the avatar of our god, the holy pope, has shown favor to them and let their antics continue without restriction.

Looking out my window, I see yet another stake being readied for an execution. The mystics have taken to superstition, claiming traitorous heretics burn while true believers are spared by the holy mother. If you ask me, it is nothing but hog-wash. This madness has been sanctioned by the pope, in his paranoid desire to remove any "parasite," "heretic," or "spy" from the ranks of the church. I honestly do not know what he is thinking.

After the betrayal of his eminence by the rest of the heroes, he transformed the declining church into a juggernaut, although, he has, mother forgive me for thinking this, lost in sanity over the centuries. He used to be quite a kind man who sought to bring blessings to the peoples of the world, but now he is nothing but a wreck of a man. He sees danger where there is none and enacts harsh action against the imagined threats. No one but the papal guards can come even the slightest bit near him without worrying for their heads.

Disturbing my thoughts, a forceful knock on my door suddenly appeared. Opening the door, it was one of the damned dogs of that madman, inquisitors. "Hello Archbishop Wells, may we come in for a moment. Forcing a smile, I reply, "Sure, sure! Have a seat, I rarely have guests these days. What is your preferred tea?"

The lead one with an everlasting grin speaks, "No thank you. We do not have the time." Their smiles are always so unnerving, for they never leave their faces. It is hard to get an read on them even with my long experience in dealing with others. "As you know, the divine mother has stopped speaking to his holiness, correct?" I let out a wary yes with my mind racked with thoughts of what he would say next. "His holiness believes this is from the corruption of our ranks. We have gotten notice of your resignation, given your long career here, his holiness has accepted and permitted you to live out your days in a church in the Farlands."

The Farlands? The Farlands! The unexplored continent where only the best adventurers go full of high ranked monsters? Absurd! These bastards! "I never submitted-," I would be stopped mid-sentence by the spears of the two accompanying inquisitors. The lead inquisitor would feign ignorance, "You never submitted what? If we made any mistakes please correct us."

I see what is happening now. These mutts are getting rid of me! A archbishop! "I want to meet the head of the inquisition right now." On that cue, a figure appears at the door. Of course this man would make his entrance this theatrical. Adorned in a white robe with a violet trim and emblem of a tree on the chest of the robe, a silver haired man with green eyes of many rings would wave at me. "Head Inquisitor Wright..."

Wright would reply, "The one and only, dear." Barely holding back my anger, "You will not call me dear you bitch." Offended, Wright would walk towards the old archbishop. "No need for name calling, honey. Though you should not be too mad since this is the last you shall converse with me. You have twelve hours to collect your things."

He would snicker before leaving, with his boys, leaving this office quiet once more. Though this silence brought nothing but discomfort as I collected my valuables.