The question of 'who am I?' never factored into the equation. As I walked down the promenade, counting the reasons why I was qualified for the position of Chief Inquisitor, I realized how absurd it was to worry. The matter of what I am was immaterial. The Evaluators could have contacted any decent thief of secrets, but it was my name they called. When it came to stretching the truth and shocking the system, no one could match my level of inquisitiveness.
The resources I extract are priceless, though the payment I require is simple. Your pain is my gain. With the skills I possess, no one need question the stuff of which I am made. So forget who I am. Who are you, and what did you do to be brought before me?
Semi-Daily Scribbles 
Leave a comment