Every visitor coming to the Trident Sword headquarters office for the first time was astonished by how cramped and unremarkable it was, utterly mismatched with the organization's enormous reputation in the Alliance.
A bronze plaque hung by the entrance, bearing an emblem of three crossed little swords and the full name of the resident organization. The plaque was quite shiny, clearly tended to with care on a regular basis.
The threshold and doorframe were engraved with runes against Black Magic and curses. Candlelight from the ceiling reflected off the polished marble floor like linked streaks of starlight, together forming a Guardian Formation that enveloped the entire office. Even the gaps between the floor tiles were not wasted. From time to time, a flash of spell-light surged from them, silently sweeping over every visitor and inspecting their robe hems, cufflinks, and pointed Wizard Hats to ensure they would not suddenly explode in the office.
Inside the office, several rows of wooden chairs stood to the left. Visitors held parchment slips and waited in orderly lines. Every so often, an irritable trash can clattered past their feet, its warped lid flapping as it gathered every scrap of paper within its territory.
To the right stood a row of recessed arched doors, each hung with Door Gods and peachwood charms. The several Door Gods patrolling atop them remained alert all year round, yet never showed any dark circles beneath their eyes. Some said it was because Trident Sword's offerings to the Door Gods were generous. Others said that Trident Sword staff secretly replaced the Door Gods in the middle of the night, ensuring they remained in good spirits when work began the next day.
Between the left and right sides stood a square, hollow office desk. Seated inside it was Trident Sword's receptionist,