Any inappropriate smile during a sacred ritual—whether from nervousness, a sense of absurdity, or simply because the NPC seemed too serious—would be deemed blasphemy against the gods and result in permanent expulsion.
The forums were filled with posts about "interview laughing disasters," making it a complaint players both loved and hated.
Armand walked dejectedly out through the Light Church's grand, solemn white gates, as though those doors had shut away the last of his spirit along with everything else.
The examiner's cold, emotionless voice still seemed to echo in his ears: "Your understanding of the doctrine is this shallow, and your reverence for the gods is entirely absent! The Light does not welcome blasphemers! Your name will be put on record, and you will never be accepted!"
All because he had forgotten one crucial line of prayer!
He raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. He had read plenty of those forum posts about "laughing disasters" and secretly mocked the people involved. He had never expected to become fresh negative material himself.
Not a laughing disaster, but a "forgot-the-lines disaster."
The streets around him were crowded with people: hurried native NPCs wearing rigid expressions, as well as players like him with IDs floating above their heads, whose behavior was clearly more uninhibited and sometimes even ridiculous.
That sense of disconnect irritated him even more now, making him feel utterly out of place in this "serious" world.
Armand had taken part in the Light Church's new recruit selection. After passing several trials, he had reached the final step, only to forget a line of doctrine during the joining ceremony and fail to recall it for ages. He had been eliminated miserably.
He walked out of the Light Church with his head hanging low. He only wanted to find somewhere quiet.