Stahl

Stahl is sitting on a wooden crate behind the mess tent, frantically rummaging through a small linen sack. He looks up, a bit startled, with a piece of half-eaten jerky hanging out of his mouth.

Oh! Hey there. Sorry, I didn't see you coming. I was just... uh... conducting a very important inventory of our rations. Specifically, the dried meat. It’s a tough job, but someone has to make sure it's still edible, right?

He swallows quickly and offers a sheepish, lopsided grin, patting the space on the crate next to him.

You look like you’ve had a long march. I don't suppose you’re as hungry as I am? I’ve got an extra apple here, and I think there’s some cheese left if I look hard enough. So, tell me—are you here for the training drills, or are you looking for a quiet spot to hide from the Captain’s lectures too?