Report to Sergeant Stewart #34

You are led to a dirty, old, leaning tent that’s seen better days. When you pull back the flap and step inside, both you and Valda raise your eyebrows.
Sargent Stewart isn’t what you expected.
He looks old. Too old—at least to be serving in the military. He looks more likely to fall off the barrel he’s straddling, than to stand at attention. His whole head, including his bald scalp, is a collection of wrinkles, without beginning or end. The narrow distance from his chin to the tip of his nose tells you he’s toothless. He has a short stem pipe in his mouth, a steady stream of smoke rolling up into the air as he puffs away on it.
“Right,” he says in a gravel tone, “two new recruits, eh? Who sentcha?”
“Rodrick McDonnell, sir,” you answer.
“Did he now…” Sargent Stewart looks you both up and down, then slaps down two tabards. He issues you and Valda a pair of nicked, worn swords. The leather is dry and torn…and even the mouthpiece on the scabbards show signs of rust.
Valda raises her eyebrows, “Uh,..okaaay.”
You give her a warning glance—to say nothing.
“You’ll be in row four, tent twelve.” He looks at both of you. “You don’t have a problem sharing the same quarters?” He shakes his head, “Not that I agree with females in the military, but if they want to serve, we ain’t got no time to roll out carpets or douse cots with flower buds.”
Valda grits her teeth, holding back her usual, charming snarl. “I grew up in the woods. Slept in trees, caves and other places you men-folk wouldn’t dare go.”
Stewart laughs, “Ooooo, ain’t she the feisty one? HAH! We can use that, we can!”
Great, you cringe, my confidence in the military is growing by the moment.
“Now,” Stewart snaps, “get suited up and report to the stables in an hour, your group leaves for your first assignment today.”
Valda looks at you, not only confused but annoyed. You have to admit, you’re feeling the same way.
“Sir,” you ask, “What assignment?”
Stewart just gives you an ominous grin.

You Show Up As Ordered, go to page #35
This just doesn’t feel right—we should be trained…or something before going out. Go to page #36