Stoatorian Guard Open The Trenches The Prodigal Son Returns

[Caden S. Freemont]

Not much had changed in Bully Harbor. The streets still stank. The beasts were still either overly friendly or rude--or somehow both simultaneously. The non-fish fishsticks were as greasy as they had been, yet completely irresistible. Somebeasts had tried to pick his pockets multiple times. And the Ministry of War building still caused Caden Freemont to feel a mixture of emotions that caught in his throat and made his eyes water in a way that could not be attributed simply to the stench of whatever floated past in the gutter.

Clearing his throat and removing his glasses momentarily to wipe his eyes, the albino pine marten wrapped the sturdy, wire spectacles back over his ears before joining the flow of beasts coming and going from the Ministry building.

After a series of directions from various beasts to get him to the right place, he came to stand in front of a bored-looking rat, a clerical-type at a desk in an open corridor where others passed to and fro. Caden unslung his bag from his shoulder and withdrew a stack of paperwork to set on the rat's desk. He began to speak, found his voice caught with sudden nerves, coughed, and tried again.

"I'm here for a position in the Ministry. I have an extensive resume that I believe you'll find intriguing."

The rat raised her brow and skimmed the top piece of parchment. She frowned and clicked her teeth. "Caden Sken Freemont," she said, looking up at him in question.

He nodded. Gates, if only he had kept anything from either of his parents to prove his identity. Then again, his father's surname was not exactly beloved in the Imperium's history.

"Did someone put you up to this?" The rat glanced around behind him. "Look, the Phil the Hobo prank was bad enough. Can't you lot just let me do my job in peace?"

Caden rubbed his whiskers. "Phil the--?" He stopped, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, miss, this isn't a prank. My name is Caden Sken Freemont, and yes, that Sken. I simply wish to speak to a superior about a job in the Ministry."

 

[Eirene Liu]

"As do I." She was an older ferret, maybe in her mid fifties, certainly old enough that she should not have been seeking a new job. She had a smaller stack of papers with her than Caden's, but had still dressed in a neat white shirt, black vest, and dark gray woolen trousers that matched well with her dark mask and gray fur. She looked a bit anxiously between the clerk and Caden as she spoke, her voice tinged with a Hanshiman accent. "Is dis not de place for job applying? I come because I want to be a guard. Dat is what you do here, yes?"

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden made an effort to turn his scowl into something resembling a smile as the newcomer ferret looked between him and the clerk. He was not sure he was successful.

"I believe that's what they do here, right?" His attempt at a joke landed flat. The rat huffed in irritation.

"This is indeed where you apply for a job. However, I am uncertain that you, sir, are seriously inquiring about a position or simply trying to have a laugh at my expense." She turned her attention to the ferret, holding out a paw for her paperwork. "I will take that, thank you."

 

[Duchess Dusk Rainblade]

Eirene Liu raised an eyebrow as she looked over the pine marten. He certainly looked like he had a warrior's build, and she could see enough nicks here and there to indicate significant battle experience, or at least intense training. "He looks like a warrior to me," she noted. "Why would be be a joke? Is dis how de Ministry treats its applicants?" She handed over her resume, wondering if there was something she was missing. It had been a brief window in which she'd been active in Bully Harbor thirty years ago, and most of that had been focused on her Bezine and on her work for the Verfolger. The Ministry of War hadn't been much of a target at the time, so she wasn't sure what to make of this behavior now.