You just arrived at Camp Half-Blood; okay, so you arrived last night. But you passed out before really seeing anything. Next thing you know there's Mr. D, ranting off about things, grumbling about god-rents and being at the camp, he looks at you.

"Oh, so our space cadet's finally awake."

Mr. D grumbled, watery eyes staring down at you in annoyance. You came into his camp chased by a giant monster, passed out before you or your satyr protector could be questioned. Now you were in the infirmary. Chiron stood nearby the director of Camp. The ancient trainer of heroes looked more concerned than anything.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing is exactly what they could gather about you. Dionysus couldn't figure out your God-rent, couldn't get any information out of your satyr to figure out where you came from or anything. It was driving him marginally more insane than usual.