“Alright, alright,” Hook said irritably. “Enough of this nonsense. Whisper, I don’t care if you traded with Spike. Get back to your post and send his lazy ass back here.”

‘Whisper’ nodded shallowly at her apparent boss, and then made to leave the tent. As she was passing me, she met my eyes once again. “Later,” She murmured, causing me to nod slightly in acknowledgment. In moments, she was gone.

Apparently back to her post, which I’m guessing had to do with our little group back in the Citadel.

Hook heaved a put-upon sigh. “That girl…” He said, shaking his head. “Never mind, that doesn’t matter right now. C’mon, rookie. I’ll show you in.” Hook approached the desk that Whisper had been sitting behind, reaching under its surface with one hand. He fiddled around with something, and what happened next was at least mildly surprising.

A trap door that I hadn’t noticed near the back of the tent opened with a creak of metal hinges.

I blinked. “How the hell? Do you guys have a bunker down there or something?” I asked incredulously. “We’ve only been here a week!”

Hook barked a laugh at me. “Don’t be ridiculous. We didn’t build an underground structure in a week.” He paused for a moment, before continuing smugly. “It was already here. The Division has bolt holes like this set up all over the continent. It was only a matter of making sure we claimed the spot when the Army got here, to set up our infrastructure.”

I nodded to show I understood. Meanwhile, I was actually wondering if that was what Sylvia had been doing, all those times she had disappeared for hours at a time during our travels. Had she been checking in with local Nocturne stations? Guess I could just ask her later.

I was a little startled when another Division member popped their head out of the trap door that Hook had opened. They were wearing the grey hooded cloak that I was beginning to suspect was a uniform for the branch. The hood was down allowing me to see the apparent human male’s shaggy blonde hair, and better see his plain wooden mask. The only embellishment on his was a carving of two avian wings on the surface. He looked around curiously for a moment, before sighting Hook. “Boss?” He asked, sounding baffled. “What are you doing? I thought you hated just leaving the door open.”

Hook rounded on the Division member with speed. “Do as I say, not as I do!” He barked, causing the cloaked figure to cringe away. “Get back to work Finch! Shoo! Shoo!”

‘Finch’ retreated back down the trap door so quickly he hit his head on the lip of it. I heard muffled cursing echoing out of the hole that slowly faded with increased distance.

I blinked slowly at the odd exchange. You know, I was getting the impression that these guys weren’t quite the strict, moody cloak-and-dagger organization I had thought they’d be.

Hook grumbled. “Wasted enough time. C’mon, rookie. Down the hatch. Close it behind you.” Without another word, Hook strode over to the hole in the ground and hopped down it. I walked over to it as well, looking over the opening and downwards.

There was a wooden ladder built into the dirt walls of the tunnel, which Hook seemed to have disregarded in favor of jumping straight down. Far below me, I thought I could see the dim glow of light. I looked at Fade’s furry form in my arms, and then looked at the ladder again. “How am I supposed to carry a wolf, climb a ladder, and close a door at the same time?” I grumbled to myself.

Fade looked up at me from his position in my arms. He rolled his eyes in a surprisingly human gesture, before bodily jumping out of my carry.

Straight down the hole. In seconds he was out of sight.

Ah…

I guess that worked. He was…probably fine.

I shook my head and then swung myself over the edge and into the hole. Once I was inside, I reached up and grabbed the handhold built into the trap door, and pulled it down.

The world went dark, but I had long since stopped being afraid of darkness. Instead of carefully taking the ladder down, I reinforced my strength with Sylvan Vigor at around fifty percent and let go of the ladder. I swiftly dropped down the shaft of this apparent bolt hole, feeling the wind whip around me.

I hoped Fade’d had the foresight to get out of the way. I didn’t want to stomp on him like some kind of turtle murdering, video game plumber.

Instead of hitting either fur or even dirt, I came to an abrupt stop by hitting stone. Quarried stone, in fact. Dare I say it, these were even stone tiles.

How bougie.

Blinking at the odd tangent from my core ring, I stood up to examine my surroundings. I was mildly surprised at what I found, but I shouldn’t have been. These guys had the backing of an entire military organization, after all.

There was an actual, for real office down here.

Well a medieval equivalent to one, at least.

Spread out over a modestly sized stone hall were over a dozen different desks, with an apparent Division member sitting at each one. Not everyone was wearing the grey cloaks and decorated masks, though. There were plenty of normal-looking people either shuffling through scrolls and sheaves of parchment, or scribbling things down on them. There were boards with pages and pages pinned to them along the walls, while on the far wall there was a massive, familiar map of Vereden prominently displayed. It was festooned with small pins that held differently colored strings of yarn, stretched over distances. It wasn’t just one big space, either. I could see a number of different doors leading to other rooms, from which people were coming and going.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The entire room had a slow murmur of noise and activity that wasn’t interrupted at all by my entrance. I tilted my head in puzzlement, as I watched a cloaked and masked Division member carrying a tray with a teapot and cups on it to a desk with two other people, both looking like regular bureaucrats.

Hook was standing off to the side with his arms crossed as I took in the apparent current headquarters for the Nocturne Division. Fade was sitting on his haunches nearby and wagging his tail as well, watching the byplay. I think they were waiting for me.

I tamped down on my embarrassment, clearing my throat. “So, what next?”

Hook jerked his head in a motion to follow him. “C’mon, I’ll get you registered in my office. That, and a few other things.” He walked off towards the office floor, Fade trailing in his wake. I hurried to catch up with them.

As our little group weaved through the desks of busy operatives? Agents? Hook was occasionally stopped by people. I tried not to eavesdrop, but it seemed like they were asking for either his input or permission. He barely needed a second to observe the documents that they presented him with, before responding in a clipped manner. Something I noticed was that there was an awful lot of mentions about Elderwyck.

And Tlatec.

Fade and I got the occasional odd look from the staff and Agents in the hall, but nobody directly tried to talk to us.

Eventually, we reached one of the doors on the far wall situated next to the massive map of the continent. Hook barged through the door, leaving Fade and me to travel in his wake. Once inside, I shut the door behind me and turned around. The room that Hook had us to was…a pretty understated, barren office. There was a simple wooden desk and some chairs, along with many bookcases packed to the gills with scrolls and sheaves of parchment. But not much else, honestly. This place didn’t look very lived in. It was a purely utilitarian work space.

Hook settled into the chair behind his desk, while I sat in one of the chairs across from him. Fade hopped up onto the chair next to me, sitting back on his haunches and trying to look like he was paying attention.

For a moment, I was reminded of another occasion where I’d had a meeting with an important dwarf in a much more richly decorated office, all those months ago in Rhoscara. It made me wonder how Ely was doing. I mentally shook it off, though, and directed my attention to Hook.

He folded his hands in front of him on the desk. “Alright, this is how it’s going to work,” He said evenly. “First, we get you registered for our records. It’s not much. Just a simple sheet with some equally simple information we need for accurate assignment.” He took out an honest-to-God, pre-formatted office form from a drawer in his desk and slid it my way along with a fountain pen and inkwell. I smiled down at the incongruously similar-to-earth document, and got to writing. It wasn’t asking for much. I hesitated, though, when I came to the species portion.

Hook noticed, and made an accurate guess. “Just put human,” He said calmly, causing my eyes to flick up and meet his in surprise. He nodded at me slightly. “I’m aware of that. As I said, we’ve been watching you for some time now.”

Okay then. That wasn’t ominous at all. Guess I didn't have to hold back one some of the info for this sheet.

When I was done, I looked at the completed form. I’d had to leave one thing blank, which I was guessing was coming up soon.

Name: Nathaniel Eugene Hart

Codename:

Level: 67

Age: 24

Race: Human

Affinity: Terrestrial

Classes: Thornblade Acolyte

Professions: Aetherial Melding

It hadn't asked me for a detailed description of my Virtues, I'd noticed. Or my Skills and Talents.

I slid the document over the desk to Hook, who took it with a brief glance. He hummed, and nodded. “Alright, time to decide on a codename for you. Generally, we don’t impose strict guidelines for this. You’re mostly free to choose what you’d like. Just,” A pained note entered his voice. “Don’t go too overboard, will you? A proper codename isn’t meant to be intimidating. It’s meant to provide a level of anonymity.”

I’d been thinking about this for a bit, actually, in the back of my rings. I couldn’t deny that there was a childish part of me that was delighted about choosing what was essentially a spy name for myself. “How about Thorn?”

“Denied,” Hook said immediately. “That’s taken. She’s out on assignment right now. Besides,” I got the impression the dwarf was fixing me with an unimpressed stare. “Your class displays an affinity with thorns. That doesn’t sound like anonymity to me.”

I flushed slightly, but nodded. Alright then.

I grimaced slightly, remembering something else I’d been called by someone I hadn’t much cared for. I couldn’t deny that it sounded like an appropriate name, however. “How about Hangman?” I reluctantly said.

Hook tilted his head. “A bit morbid, don’t you think?” He said mildly.

I shrugged. “You said it yourself,” I pointed out. “The purpose of my joining the Division and getting more training is to turn me into a better assassin. That’s already plenty morbid.”

Hook inclined his head in acknowledgment. “True. We’ll put that down as a maybe. Don’t commit to something just yet. We generally don’t care for it when Agents change their codename for no good reason, such as disliking the word. We prefer to only do that when they’ve been ‘burned’, or identified by hostile parties.”

For the next few minutes, Hook and I brainstormed a few different ideas for my codename. Things like ‘Viper’ and ‘Wisp’ were thrown around. Most of my suggestions were taken, and the few that weren’t didn’t sit right with me. Eventually, we just came back to my original suggestion.

“Hangman it is,” Hook agreed, filling out my new codename on the form. When he was finished, he turned around and opened a cabinet on the wall behind him. From it, he withdrew one of the grey cloaks that I’d seen so much of and threw it at me. “Put it on,” He said, rifling through the desk for something else.

I had just gotten done fastening the cloak closed when I had to fumblingly catch something else from him. Looking down, I saw that it was a mask. A plain wooden, full-face mask without any embellishments, carvings, or paint on it. The blank eyeholes of the mask stared up at me. I turned it over. “How does it…?” I trailed off, seeing nothing obvious to hold it in place.

“Specifically tuned sticking enchantment,” Hook said patiently. He withdrew a small stiletto knife from his belt, and held it out to me handle first. “Squeeze a drop of blood onto the face to bind the mask. Once you’re done, it’ll only work for you.”

I took the knife and pricked my thumb with it, unflinching. Handing the blade back to Hook, I squeeze a drop of blood onto the plain mask. As I sucked my thumb for a moment, I watched as the blood was absorbed into the wood with an odd ripple. Lifting the mask to face level, I didn’t hesitate before putting it on.

Hook was right about it sticking to my face. It was like an oddly comfortable kind of suction. Turning my head slightly, I was relieved to see that my field of view wasn’t harmed by the mask. I turned back to Hook when he clapped his hands together in satisfaction.

He nodded at me. “Alright, Hangman.” He said, causing me to tilt my head slightly. That name was going to take some getting used to. “Follow me. We'll see if any of the trainers who are going to work with you are here now. You come to, wolf.” He said to Fade. “We have someone with a Beastmaster class who can help you as well.”

We exchanged nods, and then Fade and I followed Hook out of the office.

Once back in the muted chaos of the hall, I was surprised at how much more comfortable I felt here. In this mask and cloak, I didn’t stick out much anymore.

Fade still got some attention, though. He just soaked up the pets and compliments from the people we passed by, following Hook to another door.

I shook my head at the way my lupine companion was nearly strutting.

You loved this, didn’t you?