Sylvia looked around the table at all the different adventurers, not all of them human. It was a strange thing, really. She’d never seen beings like these before; they were things she would have thought she’d find in some fairy-tale book. For example: the walking, talking wolf. After spending a few days in this seemingly magical place where many strange beings wandered and socialized, she came to find out that the wolf-man was a Lycanthrope, which is exactly that -- a wolf-man. He’d said that since he was the most experienced, he would be the one to lead the party, which she had no objections over. 

A sight that made her raise an eyebrow in suspicion was the boy who had immediately pledged his sword to everybody. The prospect of pledging one’s undoubting loyalty to someone was unsettling to Sylvia. She had learned firsthand what that sort of thing could lead to. 

Sylvia saw a girl who seemed to be covered in bugs, which disgusted her, to say the least.

[i]Bloody hell, that can’t be comfortable.[/i] 

Just thinking about the hundreds of insects crawling around on her skin made her tremble. 

An orc sat at the table, a looming mass of muscle and sinew. She knew about the orcs about as much as she did lycans, and as far as she knew, they were born for and excelled in frontline combat. 

All in all, Sylvia felt… out of place in this hall of warriors and adventurers. They all seemed to be so prepared, so equipped for the job, while she sat there in peasant clothing. To be fair, she did hurry over right after a contract, and therefore didn’t have time to change outfits. 

[i]Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I am out of place.[/i]

She looked at the form in front of her. Luckily, she’d taught herself to read during her childhood, it was a necessary skill to learn for her profession; her employers constantly tried to scam her out of deals using written contracts. 

She read the form carefully, trying to discern some kind of hidden trap or double meaning of the words and phrases, but found nothing dangerous. Satisfied, she signed it with sloppy handwriting. 

As for the name, she couldn’t care less, and wrote what immediately came to her mind as she thought about herself and her experiences: [b]Cannon Fodder.[/b] She knew it wouldn’t come to pass, these adventurers needed something to encourage them, not bring them down.

She took some cheese and popped it into her mouth. At least the food was good.