The tasks seem vague but they do tell what to do

I had to stare at it for a moment, surprised.

“Um,” I said. “We might have a problem.”

‘Attend the Mistral Regional Tournament tomorrow.’

Those were the words it said, plain and simple and unchanging under my steady gaze. A short sentence giving simply directions, but the implications of it…

“The next step of the White Fang’s quest involves the tournament, somehow.” I told them even as my mind raced. “I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but it says to ‘Attend the Mistral Regional Tournament tomorrow.’”

Both of the older Hunters frowned, brows furrowing as they grasped what that could mean. There were many options, countless possibilities, and yet the one that jumped out to us all was an attack of some kind—the White Fang doing something during the tournament.

If that was the case, I couldn’t say I would be surprised by the revelation, not truly—I’d been suspicious of the timing of everything that was happening from the very beginning. Really, I would have been more suspicious if it turned out this whole mess didn’t have anything to do with the tournament, but…having it confirmed was still somewhat worrying. The tournament was going to be big, both in that it would be full of people and broadcast around the world. If my quest was taking me there, I couldn’t see many ways it could end up going well.

There were only a few real possibilities, if each with a few thousand potential answers concerning the specifics. It could be that the White Fang was planning something and would enact their strategy there tomorrow—which might have been in the works all along or could mean that I’d accomplished most of the quest and by securing the support of two of Mistral’s heads, I’d established the White Fang’s power enough to convince them to act.

Alternatively, I hadn’t completed this aspect of the mission yet and the quest wanted me to do something there. That was a somewhat less worrying possibility, since if that happened, I’d just walk away after confirming it—which was why it seemed rather unlikely. I mean, Pathfinder’s directions were vague enough that it could have been either one, but the former seemed vastly more likely than the latter.

Although I suppose there was the ever present third option—I’d overlooked something important and it was going to stab me in the back for the offense. There was always that lingering unknown party no doubt waiting to ruin everything, or perhaps the Goliath’s plan somehow coming to fruition in a way I couldn’t foresee.

There were so many things that could be behind this, so many possible explanations, that I…I had to…

I blew out a short breath, shaking my head slightly.

Well, for one thing, I had to think.

“That could mean a lot of things,” Cynosarges said after giving the matter several seconds of thought. “Were those its exact words? It doesn’t want you to do anything specific like participate in the tournament?”

“It just says ‘attend,’” I repeated. “Not to compete, not to win, not even to do anything—just…attend.”

“Informative and yet unhelpful,” He mused. “Could mean a lot of stuff, in that case. Could want you to get into position for an attack, could just be a meeting with someone to earn the White Fang more clout. Does it want you to go anywhere specific? And what do you feel is the exact probability that the next step is going to be to run some errand to earn favor? Like getting someone some nachos. Or getting me some nachos. In fact, where the hell are my nachos, Jaune?”

I checked my map and frowned, shaking my head as I ignored that last part.

“The Coliseum is marked,” I said. “But I can’t tell if it’s marking the Coliseum as a whole or some specific place inside it; it would probably look the same either way from the perspective of the city map. I’ll have to go there in person to check and see. If it is positioned somewhere specific, that might yield some information; beyond that, though, there’s no way to know.”