An immaculately attired man, in his early twenties, stepped up to the reception desk. The cut of his suit, the precision of his haircut, and his manner, indicated that he was a member of a well-off family. He moved with purpose and intent, managing to come off as mildly superior to everyone else in the room. He seemed to know what he was doing, and command respect.
"I say, is this where I join Armed Forces?" he asked "If so, would you be as kind as to submit an application for me? Thomas Gordon's the name, widely considered to be one of the best shots in Cambridge and New London, wishing to put my considerable skills into the service of The Crown, especially to safeguard our wonderous nation from those pesky invaders, such as those frogs I have heard so much about in the news recently. So, where do I sign?"
