"Hello, uh, s-sir," he came in nervously, already scared to death. "Father Rick instructed me to come here..." (ricknnocent)
“Ah, R-319′s young pupil, isn’t it?” The Bishop looked up from the papers he’d been studying. His office (a spacious room in the mansion adjacent to the cathedral at the heart of his diocese) was more old-fashioned than strictly necessary - bookcases lining the walls, candlelight, a decanter of something or other on one of the shelves.The desk behind which the Bishop sat was especially impressive: dark wood, the top of the desk gleaming. The Bishop himself did not look too unkindly. His half-moon glasses had slipped down his nose a little, and he shot the young priest a heartening smile. “I’ve been expecting you. Have a seat, please.“ He waved at the wooden chair opposite the desk. “Your reputation precedes you, I must say. Our dear Father speaks highly of you!”
