A Normal Mission

5

Jim found there was something a bit humiliating about having to bring a parasol with him when he walked in daylight. Perhaps it was because of how small the handle appeared in his meaty hands. Regardless, it was the only reliable way he had to travel during the day.

Arriving at the travel agency front for the Janus Order felt akin to a dream. It had been so long since he even really thought of it, let alone actually seen the place. Walter walked ahead of him, prompting Jim to follow and snapping him out of his mental fog.
The scent of mothballs immediately assaulted his nose, reminding both of them just how far the Janus Order had fallen. With a few words into a dusty receiver, the floor jerked to life beneath them and forced him to steady himself.

As the musty smell of the upstairs front faded, a much worse aroma filled the air. The unmistakable smell of decay made Jim want to gag and his hand instinctively reached for the pocket holding his amulet.

"You best equip your armor before we meet anything hostile," Walter advised, seemingly unaffected by the wretched stench.

Jim did as told, presenting the amulet and reciting the incantation that awoke his sacred burden. The red glow of his armor seemed to grow more brilliant as they descended before the elevator door opened into a long corridor littered with bones still.
Strickler visibly tensed upon viewing his fallen brethren, struggling to keep his chin up so he didn't have to look at them. He walked briskly across the tile, his knives flashing with each flicker of the fluorescent lights.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Jim couldn't help but feel invisible eyes following his every move as he stepped over cracked statues and scattered bones.

"Well, if Blinky didn't specify elsewhere, I'd say our best bet is the records room." Walter stroked his jaw as he thought, "I suppose if that's empty, we can check the personal quarters."

"What, like changeling bunk beds?" Jim laughed.

"Surprisingly, yes." Strickler returned the joy, his eyes sparkling with humour.
Jim laughed harder, the idea of Gunmar's legions piled together like a summer camp calming his nerves.
The atmosphere didn't last long, however, as Strickler froze, his expression a mask of uncertainty.

"Did you hear something?" Jim summoned his sword in a flash, his ears pricking up to try and find what had startled his mentor.

"No.." Walter's voice trailed off as he seemed to debate if there was more to his sentence.

Jim wasn't convinced, keeping his sword raised and his eyes sweeping the corridor. Strickler seemed hesitant to continue forward, his movements forced and a bit mechanical.

"Strickler, what did you see?" Jim demanded, the words hissing out between his fangs.

"I was only hit by a chill." The stalking cast a look over his shoulder, the genuine look in his gold eyes giving Jim enough security to unclench his jaw.

"A chill?" Jim lowered his sword to his side, watching as Strickler turned away from him again.

"To be surrounded by my fallen bretheren.. it taxes you, Jim. I can't help but wonder if I, too, am walking into my grave."

It was now Jim's turn to comfort him, doing so by clapping his troll hand against Walter's shoulder, "I get it. Really. But you're going to be fine. Mom would kill me if you didn't come back in one piece."

Strickler afforded a smile despite his unease, topaz eyes glittering with unspoken thanks, "then I suppose we must both press on."

The further into the maze-like bowels of the Janus order they ventured, the faster Jim's heart seemed to beat. Rather than becoming used to the musty scents of damp walls and the bitter ones of decay, he felt they were getting stronger. The only sounds were their own footsteps on the tile floor, Walter's talons making a soft rasp on occasion. Perhaps it was the stark whiteness of everything coupled with the scent of decay and the near-perfect silence but Jim was becoming more and more paranoid. The sound of blood pounding in his ears almost drowned out their footsteps and he found himself glancing over his shoulders constantly, knuckles white from gripping daylight so hard. This was far from his first, or worst, mission, so he couldn't even comprehend why he was coming so undone over it.

His nightmare-like state was broken whenever he collided with Strickler who had stopped rather abruptly, his chin jutting forward.

"This is it. The records room." The teacher announced, his authority making Jim far too aware of how dangerous the man leading him truly was.

Walter stepped into the room with a confidence Jim rarely felt about anything, let alone what was most likely a booby-trapped room. His nimble fingers drew over the spines of the books, gold eyes glowing faintly.  Each word he read, his lips moved to say the title silently. Jim turned to the books and, not surprised but rather disappointed, found them all in trollish. Despite everything, all the years he'd both known of trolls and now been a troll, he steadfastly refuses to learn trollish. Originally, it was simply an issue with lacking time but now, there was something that entertained him about it. It certainly didn't hurt to have Claire lean over his shoulder and translate for him, either. That was a bonus.

"Blinky was correct about the value of the knowledge here." Stricklander spoke with confidence, trailing his fingertips over the leather spines of the books, "I cannot believe I never took advantage of this before."

"This is going to take a few trips," Jim noted allowed as he took a sweeping gaze of the overflowing bookshelves.
Here, he made a mistake. The Janus Order was always rather careful of their information, especially after Toby and Claire's rather impressive break-in.
As soon as Jim began to pull a book from the shelf, something shifted around them, the entire room dropping in temperature. The hairs on the back of Jim's neck stood at attention, fear tingling down his spine as he felt the floor come out from beneath his feet.