We made our way North from the Garrison towards the Arcade. Since there were still a few hours until our agreed upon deployment, I had intended for us to eat together and go over our plan of attack. Without half the squad though, it looked to be a quiet lunch. The walk itself was plenty quiet, as well; we only passed a few knights and a couple of Strangers, each going about their own business to or from the Arcade.

Just fifteen minutes later we arrived at  The Snipe’s Perch, the first Stranger’s establishment Zimthose and I had visited after reaching Haven. The cafe felt like it occupied more room than it really did, since the building stood on its own was not too far from a scenic cliffside. It was simple, made of the classic Haven concrete every other Stranger building was made of, with the bottom half of the walls painted blue all around. There was no indoor space to sit; instead, its open patio was populated with half a dozen benches, chairs, and tables to relax at, all under a pergola covered with flower engravings. Snipes could be seen fluttering to and fro in three of the corners under the wooden structure, where small birdhouses rested, and to a bird bath under the fourth. Surprisingly, they were the only sign of movement, as not a single table was occupied. Not even a plate or cup remained anywhere to indicate any customers might have been by recently, despite the hour.

“I know it’s a bit out of the way from the Town Square, but the food’s nothing to scoff at. Especially when it’s pretty affordable. So…”

Where is everyone? While I left the question unsaid, Balldrick seemed to know what I meant. All the same, he just shrugged; we’d been cooped up in the Guild Hall for almost a week recovering from the last mission, writing reports, and getting some training in. We didn’t have the slightest idea if something might warrant the lack of foot traffic or guests around this side of Haven. Especially since our Guild Hall had most everything we needed, and Lance was no pushover when it came to cooking. Only Zimthose took nightly ventures out into town, getting up to Isora knows what. Still, the rest of us should probably get out more…

As we walked up to the large open window stretching almost across the whole front of the cafe’s building, I also noticed a lack of any Stranger managing the shop. The cafe seemed to be open, though, what with the window being wide open and an “Welcome” sign dangling from the middle of it. A chalk-menu was propped up on the right side of the counter, including today’s date with a “Daily Specials” list. Warily, I dinged the Snipe-shaped bell and tried to spot any movement from further within the building. From the outside, the most I could see was a door to the right leading to the kitchen, and a partition for the chef to place finished orders for the cashier to hand out.

“Hello little ones!” Suddenly, a large shape stood up from behind the counter, as if waiting to ambush us.

“Plinkop! Jeez, what’s with the jump scare?” I asked, trying to hide how spooked I was. The Stranger was wearing the same outfit as always: a long, draping mess of blue and brown cloth created a robe that totally encompassed his body, while a tall brown cap with many layers of leather patches rested pointing backwards. If it’d had a large brim going all around it and were more pointed, I might have considered it reminiscent of a witch’s hat from the Dark Harvest festival.

Plinkop, for his part, looked confused as he bent back down. When he stood up again, he was holding a bowl of water. As he set it on the countertop, I heard some rather annoyed chirps as two snipes flew up from next to the Stranger, their rapidly beating wings gracefully bringing them to rest next to the bowl.

“Tis a warm day. Must keep the snipe’s thirst quenched,” he explained.

“Umm, yeah. Right.” I wasn’t sure how to respond to the purple and blue birds going ham over the bowl of water in front of me. “Were you just, like… sitting on the floor with them?” The Stranger nodded confidently, and I decided to drop the subject. Strangers were strange, especially when it came to snipes, but no harm no foul. “So, Vatel isn’t around?”

“No, no Vatel. Just Plinkop. Many Strangers gather in the bazaar today. Vatel as well. But Plinkop is more than enough for The Snipe’s Perch. Isn’t that so, snipes?” he explained, softly petting the birds in front of him.

“So you are open for business, right Plinkop?” Balldrick asked. As soon as he heard the ‘b-word,’ Plinkop hunched over the counter with a smile.

“That’s right, little ones. What can Plinkop do for you?”

“I’ll take the daily special ‘Gremlin Logger’ sandwich, with salted crisps. No greens, please,” I requested.

“I’ll take the same, with extra blaze peppers,” Balldrick said.

“Very well, very well. Beverages?”

“Sour Smack Fizzy for me.”

“I’m good with just water.”

“Understood. Will that be all, little ones?”

“I’m good. Balldrick?”

“Actually, I’ll take a mini flan cake, if you have any.”

“I shall check for you, Mister Bald Rick. I will bring things out shortly.”

Huh?

“Don’t forget the payment Plinkop,” I said, bringing out a fistful of crowns. “Vatel wouldn’t be too happy if customers forgot to pay while you were running his cafe.” While I wouldn’t call the leader of the Strangers’ Merchant Guild stingy or a penny pincher, he definitely did his best to keep any crowns from carelessly slipping through his fingers; it was just smart business. But hearing my words, Plinkop shook his head.

“No, no payment today. Vatel insists.”

“Huh? But you just said Vatel wasn’t here.”

“Correct. Vatel is in the bazaar.”

“So… how can he say we don’t need to pay? That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

I’m so confused.

Before he responded, Plinkop made a show of looking around the area. I followed his gaze, and noticed there were still no other customers or guests in line, not to mention anyone passing the streets.

“It is a quiet day, this side of Haven. Will be a quiet week. Do little ones know why?” At a loss, I shook my head. “Because of you,” he said pointing to me. “And you as well,” this time pointing to Balldrick. “Because… of Wolver Squad.”

“Us? I’m sorry, did we do something?” I felt my heart drop. Immediately, my thought process was to recall anything Zimthose, Lance or I might have said or done to incur this kind of odd response from the general public. Try as I might though, nothing stood out. But according to Plinkop, people weren’t around because… of us?

Plinkop just laughed as he went back to petting the snipes.

“Yes. Because of Wolver Squad, we… are safe.”

…Huh?

“Because of Wolver Squad, Haven can be worry free. Can be happy. Can celebrate or mourn in peace. Share times, good and bad, but all together.” Plinkop looked at me with a smile as he continued. “Many, many little ones venture into the Clockworks. Many make it back. But not all. But little ones do not stop. Little ones continue, for each other, and for Haven. Not all little ones can do much by themselves, no. But they try. And try. And when Wolver Squad tries, they do much for everyone. Today is no different, no?” And then I remembered. Of the dozens of members on the Stranger’s Council, two of them were none other than Vatel and Plinkop.

“Oh, umm…that’s…” I was speechless. They knew about Project R. They knew about how Haven was being targeted and how, at this very moment, the Gremlins had full intent to destroy their home. But with us working to stop the maniacal furry mechanics that dwelled beneath the surface, the Strangers and citizens of Haven seemed to feel no need to worry.

“A request,” Plinkop said. He looked me in the eye and raised a finger, hidden beneath his extremely long sleeves. “I request that you finish your tasks in one week.”

“A week? That might be…” I started, but a hand on my shoulder gave me pause.

“It’ll be Iron Bishop one week from today.”

“Iron Bishop?” But as I said the date out loud, I immediately recalled. The day the Skylark went down. The day the surviving Spiral Knights established a rescue camp, only to come under attack from mindless constructs, suffering numerous casualties throughout the night. The day that started our journey on Cradle. “Right… it’ll have been five years…”

“Well, five Cradle years, two and a half Isoran. But yes,” Balldrick said nodding. “He wants us back in time for the celebration. That’s probably what everyone in the bazaar is getting ready for right now as well.”

I looked to Plinkop, who nodded silently. He was hoping that Wolver Squad would make it back to Haven in time to join the celebration for Spiral Knights' arrival on Cradle. While we may have been attacked and stranded against our will, the last five years had definitely not been for naught: our bonds, our memories, our lives. All forged because of Cradle.

“I… can’t make any promises,” I said. “None, except that we’ll do our very best to make it back in time. Together.” The Stranger smiled and, with a bow, left to the kitchen to prepare our food.

Balldrick and I quietly headed over to the patio area to await our meal. We grabbed the table closest to the cliffside and sat down without a word; I wasn’t sure what to say, given the heavy air Plinkop left us with. We simply sat gazing over the Residential District and eastern beyond, far below us.

Eventually, the quiet became too awkward for me to bear.

“So… flan, huh?”

“It’s a good dessert. Just something small, not terribly filling.”

“You wore the Virulisk suit once, and you’ve ordered it every time we’ve come since!”

“Oh please, that whole ‘wearers inherit a taste for flan’ schtick is just a dumb rumor. I can’t help it if a dish is good or not.”

The silence from before returned for a few minutes.

“Doesn’t go well with blaze peppers though, does it?”

“It’s not like I’m not eating them together.”

“Close enough. Actually, how do you even eat blaze peppers? Aren’t those some of the spiciest things known to Cradle?”

“That we know of.”

“And you just wash it down with water?”

“As opposed to a soda?”

“I’d have expected maybe milk instead. Would probably go good with your flan, too.”

“Oh shut it.” He averted his gaze, but I caught the crack of a smile on his straight face for just a moment.

Again, silence. Two snipes fluttered from one of the bird houses overhead, landing in the birdbath a ways away from us.

“Say, where do you think they get their water from anyways?” I asked, just as soon as the question hit my mind. Balldrick turned to give me a quizzical stare. I returned his gaze. “What?”

“That’s some Zimthose-level of randomness, coming from you. You two really are brothers.”

“It’s a genuine question!”

“Doesn’t make it any less of an out-of-nowhere kinda thing Zimthose would be asking.”

“Okay, fine. But think about it: they’ve got that massive fountain in the Town Square, they have plenty of it for drinking and utilities, but I can’t recall seeing much water anywhere in the Clockworks. Maybe a few springs here and there, in the Aurora Isles and around wolver dens, but no major water resources to supply a town like this. And while we haven’t explored much of it, same with the surface: no sources.”

Balldrick remained quiet, but I couldn’t tell if he was ignoring my question or truly lost in thought. It had truly been something I was curious about, but not the first time I’d thought about it. And like Balldrick had said, I was sure it was something my brother wondered as well.

“Blast?” A voice called out from behind us. I turned in my seat to see a knight in a white demo-helm, and black armor with red leather wrapped around it. His greaves and gauntlets were the same shade as his helmet, and he bore his one-of-a-kind black and red crest on his chest, symbolizing his role as the leader of the Scarlet Scouts.

“Rhendon!”

“Balldrick?” the Recon Knight asked, turning to my left.

“Rhendon.”

“And Plinkop!” Another voice came from behind Rhendon as the Stranger exited the side of the cafe, carrying a tray of food. Rhendon took a step back to give Plinkop room, eyeing the dishes as he made his way over. As the plates were placed in front of us, I could already feel my eyes watering just by being in proximity to the blaze peppers. The Stranger bowed, his job done, and left without another word.

“Jeez, how long has it been since we’ve caught up? What are you doing here?” I asked him. While I had seen the knight at the recent promotions ceremony for Knight Elites, I hadn’t actually gotten a chance to talk to him in a long time.

“Too long, Blast. Too long. Zimthose isn’t with you?”

“He’s got stuff to attend to before a mission later.” Rhendon nodded hearing this, and turned to check the cafe. “We won’t be leaving anytime soon, if you wanted to order something,” I offered. But Rhendon shook his head.

“Sorry, not here for the food. Actually…” he took a deep breath, looking from me to Balldrick. “I’m here to ask a favor.”