The confessional before you is ornate and well maintained, ebony colored wood embellished with the visage of two angels. A jet black curtain separates the confessional from the rest of the Church, offering a surprising degree of privacy to any eavesdroppers nearby. Unlike the rest of Krakow, the inside is dimly lit by a small light bulb securely attached to the ceiling which emits a faint red light. While the atmosphere isn't exactly cozy, it is private.
A smooth voice calls out to you once you've sat down, familiar enough to identify the speaker despite the partition between you.
"Welcome welcome. I take it something is on your mind?"We're in a museum now, Harry.
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[It's good to know that we're not all going to die! Probably. Maybe. If our luck stats are high enough.]
I imagine there's no point in asking, but I will anyway: is there anything you can tell me about what to expect next?
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Goodness, if I told you that than this wouldn't be fun at all. But I will tell you this, don't forget who you're dealing with.
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[Gods. This is going to be a nightmare. It's a bit too late for regrets, though.]
What will you do when all this is over? Assuming it goes the way you and the Lady are expecting, at least.
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But it doesn't quite suit me, still.
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I can't say I'm surprised. I'm certain the two of you have found dealing with all of us to be quite the headache.
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Oh, that's very fair. It's not often I have to deal with people like that.
[never mind that he spends like 85% of his time being a teenage girl]
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