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Tiski'tai grimaces as she enters her office at the smell that assaults her. Frowning at the leaky box on her desk, she steps over and whisks it off the desk and onto the floor. Grabbing a cleaning cloth, she scrubs quickly at the mess, ensuring the ichor hasn't gotten onto any of her ledger books. She throws that cloth into the trash can and grabs another, along with a bottle of cleaning solvent. She spends several minutes painstakingly wiping down the entire desk, carefully lifting the containers of loose papers and books and wiping under them, allowing the solvent to dry thoroughly before replacing the various items on her desk back into their exact location.
That taken care of, she snatches the note on the box and reads through it. References??
She slips a small knife from a pocket sewn into the sleeve of her shirt and slashes the twine binding the box and returns the knife. With a deft toe, she nudged the top flaps open. The smell was definitely emanating from the box. She waited a moment to let the smell dissipate and then peered carefully inside. She cackled loudly as she got the joke, relaxing as she realized it wasn't a chemical trap of some sort.
"Oh, I tink I will like dis one," she grins.
Still chuckling to herself, she places the letter that was attached to the box on top of one of the neatly stacked piles on her desk. Her chuckling stops abruptly as she looks at the pile, thinking of all the paperwork she had to do that would keep her away from more exciting pursuits.
She grabs a small note-card that is embossed with The Grim logo and scrawls out a quick "Find us". No signature. No need. On the other side, she writes out the potential recruit's name.
"Druthers!" She yells out for the young orc boy she'd hired to run errands and perform housekeeping in the guildhall. Moments later, she heard him running down the hall, skidding to a stop in front of the open door of her office.
"Miss Tisk!" he says, saluting her awkwardly. "Something need doing?!"
She eyes him, his shockingly bright red hair sticking straight up from a thin strip down the center of his head.
She hands him the card first. "This, you will take to the post." He nods in understanding, taking the card and putting it into a pocket of his shirt specifically tailored to the size of the Grim cards.
She then points at the box on the floor. "And this, you will burn."
"Dabu!" He grins, salutes her eagerly, and grabs the box. He was out the door and running back up the hallway in two blinks.
She considers her instructions to him for a moment before a small look of panic passes across her face. She strides to the door and sticks her head out into the hallway. "Druthers?" She waits until he turns around. "Burn them outside, right?"
He laughs and bobs his head, "Oki-doki, Miss Tisk!" he yells, hurrying past the turn in the hall leading up and into the first floor of the compound.
She liked the boy. She found most orcs to either be very smart, or very not smart. This one pretended to be the later but was probably the former.
“References.” She chuckles to herself before flipping a “do not disturb unless it is a dire emergency!” sign on the outside of her door and closes it.
“Gral knows I hate paperwork,” she sighs, sitting at her desk and grabbing the stack of papers in the “priority” labelled container.
The stories and lives of the Grim. ((Roleplaying Stories and In Character Interactions))