The Human looked like a local Sumaran, dressed in day laborer clothes and with a big grin on his face. The four Kobolds had an attentive lift to their head feathers, those that had them.
Like myself, the kobolds resembled the clever, pack-hunting raptor dinosaurs of the Gallaen Jungles in the same way that humans resembled apes, how Goblins resembled Redcaps from the Whyld Substrates and so on. Our limbs were longer, while our tails were typically less long and sinuous. The feathers stopped at the crown around our head, and our frames generally more substantial. Internally, Kobold bones were also solid, rather than hollow. Two of the Kobolds looked uneasy and nervous, shifting slightly on the raised nests, their feathers docked, their dark scales dull in the insubstantial lighting. They even had rough markings around their neck and hands. The other two Kobolds didn’t have obvious collar markings, but were both dressed in nice vermillion and lilac robes and seemed unbothered. One of them retained their feathers completely as well. The robed Kobolds - both blue-white with shining clean scales - were likely hand-picked servants, but they were certainly all slaves.
The Drakes were big, bigger than most mammalian sapients, and sat upon the Kobold perches. Their large tails would have kept them from sitting in a normal chair if their wide body’s hadn’t. Drakes stood like an uneasy mix of upright mammalian posture and Kobold’ss scaled figures, but with dragon-like heads on thick necks. These two must have been eight feet tall when standing, even with a natural forward-leaning postue with their tail counterbalanced. I wondered if they had to duck the low Dwarven carved ceilings.
They shouldn’t be here. I’d only seen one or two Drakes in person all my life, and then only from a distance, and as scarcely older than five or six. I felt myself almost subconsciously lower my head further.
There was a reason why any traitorous trouble with the Drakenguard Empire would spell doom for the Kobolds in the city. It was still very widely believed that each and every Kobold was serving Drake purposes, even in the Sumar Empire. A few temples and orders here in Sumar even preached that Kobold enslavement, or indentureship, was as much divine as functional.
I hadn’t developed a full exit strategy if the empires ever went to a kinetic war. It would certainly mean abandoning the city quickly, to start. I think I'd avoided such thoughts because it would mean that everything I'd built in my life was for naught. The smallest casualty in a massive war before battle lines were drawn.
I didn’t notice any delay on the part of Raim as he stepped into the room, arms wide, “Ruther, I hardly believed you when I heard that you had a surprise for me. This is... something else.” He gestured to me to close the door behind us. I dared not hesitate, but wished that I could keep a retreat possible.
“Raim! And I had no idea you’d be bringing a cohort. And one I haven’t met! This is the foreguard of the Drakenguard delegation. The rest of the diplomatic mission are expected to arrive tomorrow.” I followed Raim to the table, hopping deftly into one of the Kobold seats as if I belonged at the table. There was no shaking of hands, or other physical introductions, as if this were a Drake gathering. Ruther and the Drakes studied me closely but I felt no burn at the back of my skull yet. I assumed they were just trying to use Discern to politely identify my motives.
“Ruther, this is Scortan. He’s one of the only people I trust to write anything down. I found him filing reports for one of the dukes in So-Sum. Eyes and ears on all sorts of news from up and down the river. Had I known the Delegation had arrived early-” He motioned to the other guests, “I’d have brought gifts. It's been years in the making, this meeting. I was expecting you to be able to make time next week.”
One of the Drakes spoke in a thinly accented Sumaran, “Yes, we’ve been passing non-specifics through so many intermediaries, it is good to meet you in person. I am Sessethenshen. This is my broodmate Dessemetshor. Sesset and Dessem respectively. We represent a small faction of Drakenguard that wish for change in our empire. Several others in our delegation wish the same and we are very interested in your operation.” Sesset didn’t address the meeting intended next week. The other Drake clacked their very sharp claws on the table as if to acknowledge this introduction, but said nothing. They were both covered in dark blue scales. I suspected they were truly siblings rather than colloquially broodmates.
Raim nodded, “It is a pleasure to meet you both! I am Fochet Raim, I’ve introduced Scortan. Who else do you have with you?” he asked, clearly looking at the other Kobolds.
The Drakes glanced at Ruther as if seeking confirmation that they understood the question properly. Ruther tried to cover for the awkwardness. “Ah, the Drakenguard may be a little un-used to introducing their Kobolds.”
“Well, if they do intend to seek some small change, they should remember that in Sumar, slavery is forbiden.” Drakenguard only enslaved the ‘lesser’ races in their nation. For what little solace it brings, slaves did have a few legal rights, such as permission to appeal to get new owners and the right to keep families together. “I believe the Drakenguard delegation was only allowed over the border once they agreed to either leave behind or free their slaves?” Raim didn’t even suggest a hint that these visitors may have evaded border niceties to get here so early.
Sumar practiced indentured servitude which was - in practice - scarcely better, though Sumar did like to presume the moral high ground. I had heard the same moral superiority in Raim’s voice that I did in many of my coworkers during casual conversation. I couldn’t tell if his was genuine or not.
Claws rapped on the stone table again in acknowledgement again. “Of course,” Sesset said in their wispy accent, “Dessem and Raim are right. These are not our slaves, but servants and have names. Please introduce yourselves.”
The Kobolds looked amongst each other. The two not dressed in fine clothing had been staring at me, but seemed startled by the sudden attention. One of the ones dressed in lilac silk spoke up, “I am Hachi. My cousin, Hator.” They motioned to the other nicely dressed Kobold. “Those down there are Kalim and Kalchi. No relation.” Hachi didn’t even look down at the other Kobolds and they shrank under Raim’s pleasant stare. Neither appeared to flinch at an Inspection, though he must have known the names were lies. I didn’t actually speak Draken, but even I knew that the Kobolds were just providing their rank and number. ‘Im’, ‘Chi’ and ‘Tor’ were ‘one’, ‘four’, and ‘seven’ respectively.
“Welcome, all of you, to Sumar City. I assume Ruther has discussed some of what we do in these dark undercity areas. It is so very pleasant to put faces to the actions. I’ve helped resettle many who have been… unserved by Drakenguard hospitality, and not just Kobolds, of course.”
Sesset nodded, mimicking the Human gesture as if it were a novelty, “Is that so? Ruther has implied that you mainly take in the undersapi- ah, the servants of Drakes that have managed to escape.”
Raim’s smile was unmoving, as he said, “Ruther does not handle all the business I attend to, of course. Some escapees are better suited off Sumar’s coasts.” A subtle gesture at me. “The Drakenguard Navy is so famous, there are more than a few merchant guilds who like to have a wayward Drake or Merrow as part of their crew, even if they can’t set foot on mainland Sumar without great care.”
The implication that it was not just lowly Kobolds who are leaving Drakenguard seemed to put a pause on the discussion, and I could almost feel the air turn sour with my [Discern] skill.
[Discern] was not nearly as powerful and quantifiable as [Inspect], but it was a passive skill which meant it left no traces. I did not know how these Drake’s thought, but I could tell things were not comfortable now, and Ruther was scrambling to recover.
“Yes, well, we all have to protect our networks. Raim here knows most of them, which is why I wanted you all to meet. So we could discuss who and how we wanted to discretely save some of your servants before returning to Drakenguard.” I watched the Kobolds. I could see the tilt of humor in the two well-dressed pair, Hachi’s feather’s twitching in amusement. The two former slaves’s fear was so palpable I wondered if it were a status effect.
Were they promised freedom, only for the delegation to be killed and replaced by Sesset and Dessem’s people? Or was the entire delegation slaughtered and these two brought as window dressing? How many died with freedom promised in their heart? I kept my feathers high, in mock interest, but did not say anything. I didn’t know how long I could stay that way as bile rose in my throat.
“Unfortunately, I can’t stay long. As I said, this meeting was a surprise and while I welcome a pleasant surprise such as this, and loathe this rude response, Scortan and I must be going.”
“Raim! This is the foreguard of the delegation, I am sure that you can move-”
“Ruther, my friend, I cannot. You do not know all my plans, nor whom I work with. People would be looking for me, and we wouldn’t have them discover I was here.” Raim turned to Sesset and Dessem, “My humblest apologies for not being able to stay and work with you more. Dachakesset shresmnto shesseminentor.” The last was spoken in Draken, which I did not speak.
Sesset and Dessem exchanged a glance, and said, “Of course we understand. Hopefully we will have time before the coronation to visit again. May I grant you a blessing, such that our next visit will be more fortuitous?”
Sumarans were traditionally very untrustworthy of unknown spells being cast upon them, especially by divine sources. They trusted the gods like they trusted the storm furies. Usually calm, but also fickle and destructive; better to be admired and avoid direct contact. Drakenguard were rumored to pass status-impacting spells upon each other like greetings, and spells could be disguised even on one’s own Status page. Raim could be cursed, charmed, or diseased, if he were to lower his natural defenses and accept the spell unchallenged.
“Of course, I would be honored.” His answer was almost immediate and more confident than I could have mustered. I did not trust the gods’ blessings at the best of times.
Dessem stood and walked around the table to Raim, who had stood up to face them. Dessem’s voice rang out in surprisingly melodic Draconic, and the air shimmered over Raim for a moment. No motion or prayer was offered to me, thankfully.
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He inclined his head and said, “Much gratitude to you and yours as well. Welcome to Sumar City, and may we cross paths sooner than my current schedule provides.”
He looked at me and I dutifully hopped off the stool and walked a few steps behind him as we left behind the delegation. I closed the Dwarven sliding door behind us. We’d be able to hear it open again, if someone tried to follow close.
His enchanted lantern lit the way down long dark corridors for several minutes. I didn’t say anything, waiting for Raim’s lead. He had pulled up a Guidance screen and was studying it. I pulled up my Notes and began recording everything I could think of from the meeting silently in a new tab.
“Thank you for saving my life in there. And I am sorry for assigning the wrong gender pronouns,” Raim finally said, in Daeric after closing the dim green panel floating before him. “I believe the blessing will only track my movements, but it won’t report what I say.”
I didn’t say anything at first, but didn’t close my Notes. I could record and talk at the same time, “It is fine. They wouldn’t have understood who I am… Was I right? Were they infiltrators?”
“Almost certainly. If you hadn’t… I would have Inspected Ruther first, but if they’d used any sort of spell to befuddled him, they’d know I’d done it. How did you know?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that without it sounding insane. “There is an informant in lock-up. He had intercepted a message outside of Sumar City that included where you were going and that the delegation was potentially compromised.”
“What informant? Who are they?”
“A Sanctum whelp caught trying to infiltrate the palace.”
“The palace?”
“He got as far as the main living suite of the princess. Imperial guard dumped him on us for the coronation planning.”
Raim shook his head, and I worried that my honesty wasn’t believable. “Not reliable.” He sighed, frustrated. “If I didn’t have so many plates spinning, I’d submit it to the Guard Master as Priority but... People rely on me being High Investigator. Sap, maybe one of my clients would be willing to come into custody...” He trailed off, thinking. I guessed that he was being honest with me now either because I’d proven my value, or he planned to kill me as we wandered these dark tunnels.
Occasionally, we passed a side passage where eyes watched us, glowing red, or the sound of windchimes beckoned us closer. The Undercity wasn’t popular or safe, but it was also rarely spoken of. To most people, these dangers - such as dire rats, or some of the semi-sentient fungi - that offered opportunities for locals to level up through combat but were pests otherwise. It was how I reached level 20 in the city, during planned excursions.
There were a few safe places, near where main entrances to the Undercity were, and homeless were allowed to stay as long as they didn’t do any damage or look too comfortable. I did not attend the monthly sweeps. That was a different division of the city guard, that would not have taken kindly to a Kobold workmate. I wouldn’t have taken kindly to them or their work either.
Raim didn’t look at any of the threats directly, his focus ahead into the future. I suspected that my innate {Innocuous} feat and his general Poise skills far exceeded the local danger’s interest in violence.
I had sensed his desperation, under his normally lighthearted tone. It seemed like the [Deceive] skill dropped from his act. He just looked like a guard captain facing too many problems with too little support, not a sly sapient trafficking covert agent.
“Why did you never accept my request to join the Inspection team?”
The questions startled him into Sumaran. “What?”
“Why did you refuse my transfer request?”
He had the good graces to look embarrassed. “Ah, because. I couldn’t have you raise suspicion on my being too ‘soft’ on the so called lesser races. Its treerot, I can already tell you’d be among my best, but if people suspected that we weren’t policing the commoners and, uh, lessers properly, the noblesse would step in and start to put their fingers further into Guard business. I can’t do good for the people I protect if I am constantly fighting off political complaints of a Kobold Inspecting them for criminal investigations.”
My feathers flattened against my head. I was angry at Raim for not trying harder. I was angry at Sumar City for being so racist. I was angry at myself for expecting better. I had wanted to make a difference in the guard. Giving up on my hope seemed to be the best chance I would get. “I will make sure the Guard Master knows. I have next shift. I will inform her.” I kept it short. If I said more my anger would show.
“Whoa, Fortuna, you don’t need to do that. I will coach someone to-”
It bubbled out, just as my anger had for Justin. At least Daeric was good for pontificating, even if the curses were rather floral. “If their deception succeeds, Kobolds will be suspected everywhere in the empire, at best. If my information is correct, we will be slaughtered like fungal-blooming chickens. Stopping this is more important than my petty job pushing paper for you treeless ‘greater’ races, and my childish belief in Sumar’s meritocracy should have been long dead by now.” I couldn’t hold back the bite in my words, but I didn’t mind his flinch. “Captain, it occurs to me I have other items I must attend to rather than follow you back to a hedony temple. Where is the nearest surface access?”
Raim paused, as he glanced down one side passage that sounded like a distant rushing of water. I saw the rush of facial expressions that accompanied Humans undergoing emotional distress. He was a level 72 captain of renown. I wouldn’t apologize when I’d already saved his life today. Level 72 or not, being jumped by four well-trained war operatives - maybe six or seven if Ruther and the two under-slave Kobolds joined - was bad odds.
“Fortuna, I’m sorry we didn’t meet under better circumstances. I didn’t mean to say-”
“Save it, Captain. I don’t want to hear about the futures a seer forbade me.” That was a D’hatkan expression, and while I am not a follower, I did spend decades of my life in Her service. Gods have failed Kobolds before, I would not rely on one just to be let down.
His resolve settled, and he wore the stony look I recognized on First shift staff meetings, when he managed to make it to them. “I’ll guide you to the exit. You don’t have a weapon.” I did but being covered in blood wouldn’t make getting my errands done any easier.
The exit brought me into the canal district, where I was able to scamper back north. I had things to do, and I already lost two of my six hours between my two shifts according to Guidance Time.