The two desks face each other across the long rectangular room, the doors midway between them and the walls stacked with bookcases full of files and folders and indeed, books. Mounds of paperwork sit untouched, waiting patiently for their turn, on the desks of the two people sat dealing with the toppling mountains of bureacracy. One is a man, blonde hair and a scraggly beard that could be handsome if he took care of himself. The other is a woman, with pale skin and an aristocratic face which is oddly cold. She sits with her head supported by one hand, staring at a piece of paper in front of her. After a few moments, she dips a quill into the ink pot to one side and scratches a signature at the bottom, along with a few choice notes. The paper is transferred from one heap of paper to the other.

She reaches for the next piece, and purses her lips as she glances at it, 'Hmmm.'

The man looks up, intrigued and happy to be distracted from the tiresome tax form he had been trying to fill in. 'Something interesting?'

'A new application to join the guild.' She looks up with a smirk. 'I think he's gotten confused though, he wants to join us as a knightly order.'

Henri's short laugh fills the small space, 'Well, he certainly came to the wrong place.'

Falcia, the Leader of the Silver Court - while Henri is its Adept Commander, responsible for the Scholar and Rogue sections of the guild - nods in agreement, 'It is a bit of a misleading name, we are a band of ragtag heroes, thieves, outlaws, and the impoverished or disenfrachised. I guess we are just a place for those who have no family anywhere else, and nowhere else to go.'

'We really are a family.' Henri nods, the rare flickering of a smile touching his lips.

'Yes, we are,' she replies as she bends to writing the knight a short reply as to why he didn't really want to join.