Paperwork

==Paperwork==
Paperwork was one of the necessary evils of her job; an officer for Tarnished. In fact, why the hell was she an officer anyway? She had almost no leadership qualities, hid behind others and disliked responsibility. Not only was there no sense in her being offered the job, why did she even accept it? 
Because it offered her protection, it kept her safe, although she suspected that she was getting more paperwork than the other officers. Inventories, legal documents. Half of it she didn’t even understand and had to have explained to her! But she was learning, or at least she thought she was. Legal jargon, how to spot irregularities. Someone had been running off with those tarnished necklaces again. The bank needed more matching clothing for the tabard, and although it looked good, Faern couldn’t see the point in it. It was so grey, so lifeless. Then again, maybe that was the point? To go unnoticed? Or maybe because life was shades of grey, not good and evil. 
Sighing, she went back to the paper to the side, written in her neatest handwriting (which she had surprised even herself with). It was a forged identity for her friend and (debatably) lover Geis. She smiled slightly, remembering a comment the night before; “I owe you so much.” Or something like that. Her answer had been that she was happy to see him happy, and that was all that mattered. He was currently living under the alias of Condor, his codename within the Flying Daggers – hers was Magpie. However, he needed a real forged name. A messy stack on the desk held copies of records of missing people; mainly scouts, who tended to go missing regularly. Hopefully she could assign one of these identities to Geis, hopefully ensuring a safe identity and the reputation that went with it. 
The choice was narrowed down to around five now, light haired blood elves all of them, ranging in age appearance from nineteen to their forties. She would need to ask him which identity he wanted to take of the five. 
Faern massaged her wrist with her left hand, grimacing slightly. She wasn’t used to writing so much in one sitting, her wrist muscles used to holding daggers or swords. Wearily, she turned to look at the pile of papers still to be signed, read, checked over and filed. She groaned, and flopped forwards, yelping when her forehead hit the desk harder than intended and sighing, closing her eyes and preparing for a power nap. Plenty of other similar papers to make for other ex-Essence members, if they wanted to try to redeem themselves. 
Outside a secretary, or more guard knowing Faern’s history, smiled to himself and turned a page of his book. It was keeping Faern occupied and out of the line of fire, away from the Alliance, and getting some of the damn paperwork finished.