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It's a routine recruitment day in F.I.X.F.I.C, the multiversal exception handling agency. Today, a particular sir will receive his recruitment letter, and the world will see what may come of him as an agent of Good...
From far away, the trained scriers and omen-recorders determine that he's not busy at the moment, and dispatch a messenger.
He nods along. "I suspect that the benefits of improving my ability to interface with drow rebels might outweighed by being in a better place to integrate the orcs, just since it seems like the latter will have a quicker turn around into meaningful additional forces against the undead and demons."
He pauses for a whole longer to see if anything else occurs to him.
"I think that's all the questions I have."
"Alright. Then there are the matters of any changes to your body, whether you wish to visit the Light Pools, and then dispatching you on your way. I assume you'd prefer to pursue both?"
He nods. "Handling my baseline health and fitness just seems reasonable, physically and mentally."
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