Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Bar Hopping

Dresden had become bored of teasing me by the time I returned, reacting to my growling of the password with nary a glance. If I’d been subborned by the prisoner...- but I hadn’t been and Dresden could continue reading his erotic novel with nothing more than a snort of disdain for me as I retrieved my shield and mace.

The worst part was that I couldn’t leave immediately for Pikakoser. 

Earlier that day, I had been quietly thrilled originally when the interrogation of the potential criminal was put in my hands, but once I read Robin’s assessment, I realized this was just another task that no one had wanted to bother with. It seemed like just some bizarre child had wandered into the castle while the Royal Guard was too wrapped up in their coronation planning. 

Being lowest ranked officer in the Central Sumar headquarters, I was mostly provided busy work to try to fill in my usually idle hours at my desk when I wasn’t assigned third or fifth shift. My captain, Rookward, didn’t care for me much, but his team of twenty guards hadn’t had a reprimand regarding monthly documentation since I started organizing and submitting two years ago, which garnered me very little abuse from my cohorts, the best I could ask for.

I’d garnered a measly three levels since I started. Being the only Kobold under Rookward, and one of only two Kobolds on the whole of Sumar City’s twelve thousand city guard, I was not afforded the best jobs. Chathan was stationed in the West Precinct and I’d met him briefly, once. I’d thought it was an honor to be in Central Sumar originally, but my pride was hubris. 

I wrote up a detailed but vague report regarding Justin’s claims and admissions. His claims were more than enough to justify six months of hard labor in the construction prisonery, though I didn’t make those recommendations. My handwriting was neat, efficient, and nearly as quick as my ability to write in my Notes via Dieties’ Guidance. It would be so easy to submit the report and let Rookward handle the rest in the next couple days. I left the sheaf of three pages in my desk. 

Ravings of drunks rarely bother me. Why should this delusional child from a crazy religiously secluded town bother me? I did a little research at the headquarter’s library.

Yes, there were reports that apparently some Red Dawn Cruxists had been waylaid in the area near the fortress. It was being investigated by a Sumar Knight. The Knights were a third branch of legal enforcement - noble-controlled - and acted as liaison to the military and guard. The event didn’t concern me. 

Yes, the Governor - who’s residence along with most of the cities’ richest families - was in Central Sumar, and there’d been a report filed three years ago that his husband had vanished. I could only find the summary, the full file was in the cold case inventory, and I didn’t have permission to access the magically protected vault. 

Before my six hour shift ended, I did try to contact Captain Raim via the switch-rune, but he had posted an automated reply. He was still off work for two more days on personal business. He might have ignored me anyway. All the city guard were expected to be active the day of coronation, so many were getting their vacation in beforehand. For other reasons, I suspected Raim in particular didn’t like me. 

I was nervous and twitchy all afternoon, but no one bothered me in the corner desk I’d been given. They had been polite enough to not bother installing any overhead shelving, given that I would assuredly not have been able to reach much above my three and a half feet of height without a step stool or climbing.

Finally, when first shift ended, I was uncharacteristically quick to get to the locker room and change into my personal clothes which consisted of a simple paneled skirt and vest. I got a few looks from the other guards in there - I usually waited for the mammals to thin out - but no one stopped me as I shoved my custom fitted uniform away. I’d wear the same outfit on third shift in six hours. I had two matching sets of the fine steel threaded leather uniform - a full tunic and trousers with boots and gloves fitted for my body - at home in my tiny alcove. 

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Normally, I’d head home to the little sixth story half-attic I rented on the nearer side of North Sumar. It was still a little out of my means - most of the posted guards in Central City were kin to those of some money -  but I made ends meet, barely. 

Pikakoser was in the opposite direction and I debated my options. It would be a decent trek, and I’d need to either use the carts or call a taxi once my shift ended. If I walked, I wouldn’t be there until deep in the evening, and I couldn’t stand delaying that much more.

Finally, I decided on the cart system, even though it was going to be crowded at shift-end. Dwarven designed and underground, I tried to avoid the packed carts just because Central Sumar saw so few Kobolds. I made sure the feathers on my head were neat and straight. The full wreath that hung behind my head indicated my body was not configured to lay eggs. It was a small thing, but I wished I had fewer bright red and white feathers to contrast with my copper-brown scales. I would stand out just a little less. 

I press myself back into a wall, bending my tail around myself so no one would complain that I was taking up too much space. I wouldn’t stand upright and risk brushing my tail against the filthy floor, however. A surface Gnome talking to a Human nearby gave me a nasty look, and a family of Dwarves had moved to the other side of the dozen yard long cart when I got on. 

Sumar Citizen Kobolds were legally of the same status to all other sentient races. Allowing Kobolds to apply for citizenship was not a popular decision by the Empress three decades ago. I’d been just in my twenties -  a freed slave in the service of D’hatka, God of Knowledge and the Mind, when it happened. My official citizenship was granted fifteen years ago, after much paperwork and other legal hoops. 

Regardless of how people resented my presence, I needed to find Captain Raim. If there was an iota of truth to Justin’s claim, then a race massacre was only among the many concerns on my list. 

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The first three bars’ employees looked at me like scum but answered my questions about having not seen a Human with Fochet Raim’s appearance or name. The fourth threatened to curse me as soon as I stepped inside. They had been an Elf, so I didn’t bother doubting their ability, even though a server capable of casting curses would surely have made more money in service to a guild. 

I hopped down the steps into the fifth bar named “Dunder’s Dark”. Like all the other bars, this one had been set partway into the ground, and was managed by a rather thin Dwarf only a foot taller than me. Most of South Sumar was built like this, and there were few towers. Most buildings didn’t extend lower than three stories - or higher than seven - from ground level.

There were deeper tunnels built by the city’s architects. Dwarves had been contracted when Sumar was just a very rich, but singular kingdom. I hadn’t given these tunnels much thought, as I knew I’d only needed access rarely as a guard.

When the reedy Dwarf behind the bar caught sight of me, I saw the flash of alarm flash across his eyes before being doused in controlled fury. He hopped over the bar, and stormed towards me. Used to being menaced by drunks on the job and lulled into complacency by the previous businesses’ passive jeers or simple threats, I hadn’t expected the Dwarf to cuff me across the side of my head.