Advise the Abbot-Commander to reconsider

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From: Diagnostic Wrestling

Surely he sees his opponent is unfit for this? He must have less strenuous tests.


Verbal sparring

[...] You steer him from school to school [...]

Soon all the monks are involved [...] They're shouting over the wind, bellowing to be heard. That's when the first boiling drop strikes your cheek. The Naturalist touches his own face.

"On no." His eyes widen. "Wax."

Redirects to: The Wax-Wind Rises