“Join the Forestry Commisariat and see the world!” The recruiter had said, “A day in the Rangers is like a day on the farm. Every meal a banquet! Every paycheck a fortune!” [That’s as maybe,] thought Thumbs, [but I don’t wanna see the world from the pointy end of something.] Chuckling quietly to himself, he launched himself up one of the gateposts flanking the high gate at the end of the alleyway with all but the lightest scuff of his boots on the brickwork and squatted motionlessly on the arch watching for movement in the yard below. As he was about to drop down to the hard packed earth, a flare of light in the far corner made him freeze in position like a green and brown clad gargoyle. From out of the shadows strolled a leather armoured guard trying to light his cheroot from a match.