His green attire and Athar insignia proudly displayed, the excitable Vol would make his jaunty way to the propaganda presses of the Temple, taking a swig of his ever present Lionheart potion before approaching and tugging the sleeve of the faction official in charge, one hand digging in a pocket on his tunic
'Mister Sir! Mister Sir! Hm. Ahem. Old Vol can print! Look!' He takes the opportunity to withdraw a bundle of small sheets from his pocket, each printed with phrases regarding the 'hidden majesty' in a progressively neater finish, and present them happily. 'Want to help! Yes, yes! Want to make messages. Mm. Help the silly falsegodders, ha!' He nods merrily, still holding out the bundle of prints in a shaking hand and grinning expectantly to the overseer.
Investigations of a Vol
