Now to find the file room, drop this off, and food! Should not be that hard, except for this smelly tunic. What is that guy's problem? I have not done anything to him.

As I walk along the dingy corridor, I see a basin. Fantastic! Should I wash this thing or go with it? Either a stinky dry dog or smelly wet dog. Dry dog smell wins.

The smell has calmed down from earlier. I wonder how long I was down there sorting? As I weigh the merits of cleaning the filthy tunic, I think I spy a veteran Watchman. “Excuse me?”

He looks at me and then trails down to my badge, whereupon his face twists into an expression of finding something rancid on the bottom of his shoe. Why did his face change? “What do you want, Reject?”

Reject, a little harsh. It is only my first day. Must be a racist like Gunnar. “Sorry to disturb you, sir. I was wondering where the file room is?”

Pointing in a vague direction. “Over there.”

With that, he stomps off. I am left wondering what I did to offend so many people? Following that gesture and walking through a plain doorway, there seems to be a sort of filing place. Walking up to the desk, I spy an older lady with glasses and wispy white hair. Reminds me of that praying mantis-like librarian from back at the orphanage. Not that she was a mantis, just scary and mean to me.

“Excuse me; I was sent here to file these reports. Is this the file room?”

She looks up at me, and I feel like she wants to bite my head off. “You are not going into the archive room, son.” Good! She points to a clean spot on her immaculate desk, handing me a clipboard and stylus. “Place them there and fill this in.”

Did not know there was paperwork. She has gone back to scribing on a page with a mechanical pen. Wow, only ever saw my Abbot with one. Amazing. “Excuse me again, I'm new, and I do not know how to fill this out. Could you please help me?”

Huffing at me. “What squad are you with? I’ll give your commanding officer a piece of my mind, sending someone green up here and not training them in proper procedures!”

“Um, I am in Stillwater's squad.” Oh no, I should have said Zlata's squad or something. “It is my first day with them. After I do this, I have to find some food for Gunnar's pets. That WayWocket is weird ...”

Stop talking! And now she is smiling at me. “You are one of the Rejects?”

What is with these Rejects? “Um, sure.”

“Why didn't you say so? I have known Stillwater since she was a little babe.” Doubt that she was that little! “Gunnar can be a little abrasive, and Way has his way.”

Grumpy old women, I can deal with. Clucky old happy women? Weird.

“So, can you show me how to do this?”

“The name is Corporal Viola Luebke. You can call me Vi.”

Going to be a long day. “Okay, Vi, can you show me how to fill this in?”

“Sure thing. Your name?”

Just go with what people think you are anyway. “Lone. Lone Solo.”

“Pleased to meet you, Lone.” Oh, for the love of the Trinity, hurry up! “Now all you have to do—”

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Brain shuts down; too bored and hungry! A free feed so close. Just follow what she is doing and tick and sign. Tick and sign. Tick and sign. Food and sign. Food, and ham, and bread, and—

“Lone, you are drooling on the paperwork.” What? What? “You look starved. Head over to the mess hall.” She vaguely waves to the back of the barracks. What is with these directional gestures? Not really helpful. “I'll finish this off. Say hello to Joan for me.”

Who is this, Joan? Could it be Captain Stillwater? No. Enough of that. Off to the mess. With that vague wave, it should be ... This is just the back door, and I am looking out over a small, uninspiring courtyard. Wonderful. Hang on, is that the delightful aroma of food? Just over in that building. A few more steps, and I shall have the feast of a lifetime! And the door is locked. Typical.

What the bloody Abyssus is happening? If this is not open, I am not going back to Gunnar and saying, “Mess was not open, no food!” With my luck, five seconds later, I’d be eaten by a rat, cat, and dog. Maybe I could slip around the back and be all charming with the kitchen staff and find a lovely little basket of food?

Turning the corner, I spy that knight from the sparring circle again, covered in some sort of goo and a Gnome throwing buckets of water over him. Weird.

I shake my head, and by the back door, I see a kitchen helper. She is probably a kitchen helper; she is wearing an apron and has her sleeves rolled up and hair tied into a bun. Now, how can I convince her to give me food? I know, name drop! “Hello.” She stands there, with a sort of greenish-tinged face. “Excuse me.”

She looks at me with horror in her eyes. Seen that before; some things are just too hard to un-see. “Yes ...” Trailing off and looking at the knight guy. This will be fun.

“I am sorry. I have you at a bad time, but—” Name drop! “—Acting Commander Zlata is looking for her lunch.”

“What? Zlata!” If she was green before, now she is pale as a sheet which, with her complexion, does not help. Needs to wash her face more; the acne is severe! “Her lunch? Please, I'm sorry, it’s just that—this way.”

What has Zlata done to people, I wonder, as I am led inside the mess hall. Well, sort of a room, more a collection of ramshackle tables thrown together with a few doors to what must be a kitchen, where all the wonderful smells are coming from. I feel a little sorry for her. Maybe I should have dropped Stillwater's name. “Are you alright? You look a little green and pale.”

“Oh, it’s just been a bad day, now gone to the worst possible day ever. You have heard that Commander Axel was poisoned?”

Looking around at the empty tables and chairs, there does not seem to be anyone else here. I wonder where everyone else is?

“Poisoned? I heard something happened.” Yeah, Zlata is a bitch and has some hand in this whole thing. How else would she know she was ‘soon to be acting commander’? “But I did not know that he was poisoned.”

She points out the door. “Those two, the gnome and the knight, came in here because this is where the Commander ate last. They started asking questions.” And now she cries.

Great! Food—remember? I walk over to the side where a counter has some cutlery and find a clean-looking cloth. “Here. What is your name?”

“Um, Claire,” she says, taking the cloth with a grateful nod before noisily blowing her nose.

“Pleased to meet you, Claire. So they just asked questions? Does not seem so bad.”

“It gets worse. Um, those two confronted one of my fellow workers, Dwel, and started questioning him.”

Why am I caring? Well, if I do not calm her down, no food.

“Please, go on.” Gently I touch her shoulder, so she feels like I care.

“Thank you.” She smiles, bottom lip wobbling—internal eye roll. “I don't understand, but Dwel has something to do with the poisoning. I knew him for two years.”

Another bout of tears—oh great. Comfort the crazy lady by patting her shoulder a few times. “He tried to run, but that paladin stopped him, and before I blinked, he turned to goo.”

Goo? Were they just washing off a dead man?

“Okay, well, you know those of the Orange. They do what has to be done for the greater good.”

That comforted her; tears dried up. “You are right. Believe in the Trinity, and you will not be led astray.” Both of us make the triangle of the Trinity. Thank you, Trinity, for saving us from the horrors of the night. “What did you need? Ah yes, Zlata's lunch.”

She wanders off towards the kitchen doors. I wonder if I should bring back some of that goo for WayWocket—might make me look good. Ah, there is a jar and some goo left on the ground. Seal it, and good.

Claire comes back with a basket filled with meats, fruit, cheese, and bread. Love dropping the right name. “Here you go, love. May the Trinity smile upon you.”

“May the grace of the Trinity protect you as well,” I reply. That was drilled into me every day at the orphanage. Saying those words and seeing a paladin of the Orange at work makes me thankful for the light of Trinity. Grateful, I do not have to be that guy—a hero.