Of all the myriad places on the disc, of all of the infinite locations on the back of Great A'Tuin, there was nowhere that Whitney Shep would less like to be than inside the head of the Assassin's Guild's office. Especially after failing a practical exam as badly as he had earlier today. Lord Downey had high expectations for those who took on the black, especially a member of the House of Shep.
"You are aware, Master Shep, that you have failed the midterm practical exams 3 times now?" Downey's voice was cold enough to give one frostbite.
"Yessir. I uh. I couldn't find an opening in the patrols to get inside the manor…again. It seemed impractical to risk capture when I couldn't get close to the tar-"
"Except you did evade the patrols Master Shep."
Whitney goes slightly pale. "I'm…sorry?"
"You see, after the last 2 times when you were unable to do so, despite the clear knowledge of evasion and stealth you displayed on the written exams, I elected to have you followed when you were sent to deal with this particular target." Downey is scowling over the desk at Whitney. "And imagine my surprise to find out that you not only managed to evade the guard patrols so effectively that the man I sent to follow you, an expert assassin with nearly a decade of experience, lost track of you at least twice…"
Whitney winces as Downey continued.
"And knowing this particular guild member's ego it was likely MORE than twice. Then managed to enter into a 3rd story room by climbing up a creeping vine growth on the side of the building, which the man I sent to follow you doubted would be able to hold most men's weight, and expertly picked the lock of the window without being noticed by the guards…"
"W-well people rarely look up above eye-level in my experienc-"
"I am aware of that principle, yes!" Downey is beginning to sound more angry than annoyed. "And after picking the lock to the window you successfully entered the target's bedroom, were hovering over his sleeping form with a dagger ready, with the target completely unaware of you and at your mercy…"
"I wouldn't say completely unaware. I'm sure he stirred at least a bi-"
"And then, instead of taking the quick, clean and efficient end to the contract that until that point expertly managed to work your way towards, you hesitated for a moment, re-sheathed your dagger, exited the room without leaving a singular trace of your presence, re-locking the window before you, and fled the estate without raising the alarm." Downey in his continued frustration looked back down to the report on his desks. "After which he reports you seemingly dejectedly spent the remaining 4 hours of the exam at an all night Klatchian eatery, not even attempting to conceal yourself from the general public!"
"I would argue the vast majority of the general public doesn't spend much time in a Klatchian Eatery past 11 o'clock at night sir"
Downey does stop mid-rant to consider this point. "Regardless, your problem is clearly not, as you have tried to paint it in the past, a general incompetence. You are, in fact, just as competent at much of the Noble Arts as I would expect someone from your family to be."
"Well, um, I'm glad you think so sir, I'm certain my father would be glad to hear-"
"It is odd, however, given your ancestry, that you have no stomach for the actual act of Inhuming."
"What? Oh, No! No Lord Downey I uh…I eagerly wish to carry out a real contract. Not simply training like this. I simply didn't see the sport in such a soft target!" Whitney has somehow
"It's unbecoming of a Gentleman to lie, Master Shep." Downey has at this point stood, and is looking out a window over the city of Ankh Morpork. "I simply…don't understand how someone from your family could possibly be burdened with a conscience. I went to school with your father, he was a natural born inhumer. Your brother Blake was Valedictorian of his class for gods' sake!"
"My Brother's a blackhearted brute without an ounce of good in him!" Whitney snapped. And then immediately remembered who he was actually talking to and went a bit green.
"My point exactly, my boy! I mean if you won't inhume someone you might as well go off and join the watch! It does the same to your Family's name as you failing the finals would!" Downey is still standing with his back to the 17 year old student. "I think you need to consider long and hard just how much you actually want to be here, Master Shep. Now get out!"
Whitney didn't need to be told twice, quickly leaving and going to his dorm room in the guild. And he did think. He thought long and hard. Because in that little speech, Downey had done something no one had ever done to Whitney in his entire life.
He implied he had options other than becoming an assassin.
The thought of other options had…never really occurred to Whitney. As a member of the House of Shep, it was just…always taken for granted he'd go into the family business.
I mean…what else could I do? He thought, lying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling as if he were trying to bore a hole in it with his gaze.. If I don't, I'll likely be disinherited. I'd have to find work of course. And I'd probably have to find lodging outside of the guild. Doubt they'd let me hang around if I wasn't going to be doing any inhuming. Oh, and I'd have to deal with the assassination attempts, but I'd have to do that anyway if I end up flunking.
He thought, and thought. He thought harder than he had thought about anything ever before in his life. He thought well through the day and into the evening in fact…and as he thought, a small, bone-white creature made it's out from under the covers of his bed and climbed onto the black-clad teenager's chest..
"Good of you to join me, Dubio" Whitney's hand reached out and petted the mongoose that was, if he were more honest than he cared to be, his only friend. "Fraid I flunked again"
The mongoose growled a bit.
"I know, I know. I have got to stop doing that." He stood up, Dubio repositioning himself onto his shoulder as he did. "But hey, Downey did give me some good advice."
Dubio responded with a questioning chirp.
"If I won't inhume someone…" Whitney began packing up his belongings into a satchel, the last of which being a worn notebook that he gingerly placed on the top of the stack. "I might as well go and join the Watch"