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Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Voem found it hard to get comfortable sitting on the bench outside Magistrate Gerald Duvat’s office. There was just too much going on this morning. The whole of the Watchhouse was abuzz with activity. Rumors of wizards being killed and cannibalized already had the whole city on edge.

The two other goblins sitting across from Voem were gossiping about it as well. He just wished they would shut up so he could listen to the conversation going on in the office. Frustrated, he growled at them, but over the noise in the open area of the Watchhouse they didn’t hear him. Or at least they pretended not to.

Were there goblins killing wizards? How’d they get into the library without getting caught? Was it vampires or some other undead breaking its way out of the library? What would happen if they blamed goblins again? Could there be war?

Speculating on the meaning of the deaths and what would happen was fun, but it didn’t really help anything. The potential trouble these deaths could stir up was why half the Watch had been called in early today. To fix things, not spread gossip that made it worse.

Voem slapped his helmet and glared at them in frustration. That got their attention. Baring his fangs, he signaled them to shut up. The two complied at last. As they should. Voem was the same rank as the other two gossipers, but he had been in the Watch longer.

Pushing aside his dark brown dreadlocks, Voem cocked his head to try to overhear the conversation through the open door of the Magistrate’s office.

Gerald’s human assistant gave them all a suspicious look, but did nothing to stop their eavesdropping—probably because human ears wouldn’t have been able to overhear as well as Voem’s.

“That’s it?! That is all you got from the stupid cat?” Magistrate Gerald’s deep voice demanded. He was always like that in the morning when he hadn’t had his usual dose of stelt. The goblin elixir usually had a soothing effect on the older man’s nerves. “What about the gargoyles and the wards?!”

“Those are largely just for show. We haven’t activated the gargoyles in months. Not since the incident with the mongrel kids,” a nasal voice said. A human voice. That must be the white robed librarian-wizard that Voem had seen come in earlier. They were never ones to show concern for goblins.

“I brought the cat in question, sir. In case you need it for the trial.” The voice was eager, and also human. It must have been the younger looking librarian. He didn’t sound very bright. That was not how trials worked in the Warren.

“What about the wards inside? Were any of them of use to us?” Gerald asked.

“The wards were still on when I came in this morning. They appear not to have reacted at all. Perhaps the murders had some sort of magic-neutralizing device,” answered the nasal voice.

“How many dead in all?”

“Six.” Voem could hear the fear in the librarian assistant’s voice.

“The head librarian, two wizard guild members from Khoma, and three assistants — apprentice mages like Jon here.” The elder librarian said it like it were an impossible improbability that someone could do this to them. “All skilled at their craft.”

“Perhaps it was an inside job,” Gerald commented.

“I assure you that that was not the case. We two are the only ones still alive who know the activation words,” the older librarian replied.

“They were at Prince Roger’s celebration, sir. Lots of witnesses.” The voice was Podak’s, one of the goblin Captains of the Watch, the best of the Watch captains in Voem’s opinion.

“It was in honor of the Lunar Festival. All the top Guild members were there, with Seers’ Day coming and all.” The librarian sounded indignant that his motives might have been questioned. “The king himself attended.”

“Seers’ Day, huh?” Gerald’s lips smacked audibly as he spoke. “What about the guards? Didn’t they see or hear anything?”

“The only guard was Guesarsh. It seems the Library relied on the image of security and magic almost entirely.” Podak’s inflection indicated he found it hard to believe too.

“Why would anyone want to break-in in the first place? We are a Library. We are open to all,” the elder said.

“Except Goblinoids,” Podak pointed out, earning a grin of agreement from the goblins eavesdropping outside.

“Is anything missing?” Gerald asked.

“We haven’t fully completed our inventory yet. When Jon found the cat, we came over right away with the evidence,” the older librarian said with pride.

“Well, the cat’s recollection is useful, but…” Gerald’s tone clearly indicated that he didn’t appreciate the interruption of his morning stelt for that. “Can you do that trick on any of the victims? Maybe get them to tell us who did this.”

A long hesitation preceded the librarian’s reply. “No. That spell doesn’t work on the dead.”

“Too bad. Well, get back to the inventory then. I need to know if this was just an assassination, or if they were after something too. We will arrange for some people to come over and help clean up the mess. Podak, see who is available.” Gerald leaned back in his chair with an audible sigh.

“Uh, Goblins?” The librarian sounded uneasy.

“Would you rather clean it up?”

“Just make sure they know to be careful.” One of the goblins waiting with Voem made an obscene gesture at the wizards. Gerald’s assistant, Corr, saw it, and he knew what it meant too. The young gob was going to be in trouble again.

The young goblin’s tattoos indicated he was from the Gold Lions clan, but clan pull was limited in the Watch. Especially for newer recruits. He’d be on patrol for weeks at the rate he was going. A few patrols under Inpoko or Chiruk and he’d either straighten up or be out. A gob that didn’t know when to keep his attitude in check wouldn’t last long as a Watchman.

Once a box had been found to store the cat, the librarians came out of the Magistrate’s office. Much to the chagrin of the librarians Podak gathered up Voem and the other two goblins to escort them back to the Library.

Dressed in their well-worn studded leather, and matching cloaks, the goblin guards would only seem an intimidating force to the unarmed. However, just being willing to stand up for yourself was often all you needed. Five gobs with the ability to call a couple dozen more to their aid was enough for around here. Fortunately, the ad hoc nature of the Watch’s equipment was hidden under their fading blood mottled burgundy cloaks, or they’d likely find themselves tested more often.

Once outside the squat two-story stronghold that was the Goblin Quarter’s police station, the librarians did their best to stay ahead of their motley escort. The Goblin Quarter, or “the Warren” to the locals, was a mass of old mud brick and scavenged stone buildings. Ancient Khoma had been destroyed several times over the last hundred years, and the quality of the construction had suffered each time it was rebuilt, especially in the Goblin Quarter.

There were still a few buildings from back in the glory days of Khoma, but most of those still needed a mix of brickwork and stucco to cover up the damage of the years since. Now, most of the buildings were multi-storied tenements piled onto each other like buttresses, usually anchored to the side of the city wall or the shell of some sturdier structure from the past. Most of the streets were narrow, winding, and dirty.

Humans in the rest of the city felt that if the Warren was allowed to rot it would drive the goblins out, but goblins are a resilient race and the squalor didn’t do much more than slow them down. Despite the hardships, the goblin population never seemed to shrink. The nickname Warren reflected that.

Homes in the Warren were clustered by clan and family. Every few blocks there was a different clan motif painted on the connecting archways over the streets and alleys. It was said that more goblins lived in the Warren than there were humans, elves, and dwarves combined in Khoma proper. Still the Warren was all they had in the city, and they technically weren’t even supposed to have that.

The treaty that brought King Sergio and the Wayfarers to the throne had initially prohibited the goblins from returning to Khoma. However, with the war’s end and the new dynasty in need of labor to rebuild, they had no choice but to let the goblins return. They were not equals, but the conditions were much less harsh than under previous rulers. As any elder could tell you.

Voem and many like him were glad to serve in the Watch for the Warren. It helped to keep the humans out of the goblin’s affairs. As long as the Warren was peaceful, the goblins were allowed to do as they pleased. Unfortunately, these killings at the Library were a threat to that peace. Anytime body parts were missing, goblins got blamed because of the Osmiso ritual.

Goblin tradition allowed the family to perform Osmiso, ritualistic cannibalism, on dead family members, in order to recapture some of their spirit and power for the clan. The ritual was often performed on fallen enemies to capture their strength too. Not performing Osmiso on humans was part of the treaty with the Wayfarers. It was rumored that this was what had happened to those in the Library—someone had eaten them.

But eating wizards in their own Library? Logic dictated this was not the work of goblins. The Watch would have to work to prove that before someone on the Noble Council started another anti-goblin crusade. Unfortunately, despite the librarians going to see Gerald, it looked like the humans were going to takeover things.

Before long, the group arrived at the main road to the Library. In the distance, silhouetted against the cloud filtered morning sun, they could see the spires and the statues of the Library. Voem thought he could see the distortion of the magic shields defending the building, but it was hard to say for a goblin looking directly into the rising sun. Still, as rumors of the dead wizards at the Library reached their ears, the majority of the Warren’s residents were looking in that direction, as if they expected the reprisals of the wizards to come upon them even before breakfast. Already a nervous crowd formed around the citadel.

The Grey Watch was already in front of the building. Impressively dressed with their trademark grey cloaks hanging neatly from their shoulders, they had sealed off the perimeter of the Library and were strutting about in front of the crowd of goblins and others that had gathered to see what had happened. Off to one side stood the contingent of the Watch that had been sent to guard the investigation. As soon as Podak and the librarians started pushing through the throng, Inpoko, another Watch captain, moved angrily towards.

“Where is Gerald?!” Inpoko demanded, angry spittle shooting from his a furry maw. Inpoko was a northern goblin, hairier and much bigger than southern goblins, they were often called bugbears, because, though goblin in form, they were as tall as standing bear and just as hairy. Even though Inpoko was small for a bugbear, he was an intimidating Captain of the Watch. He towered over Podak and the librarians.

“The Greys showed up and kicked us out! They know this is our jurisdiction, but they say they got orders from Councilman Obert to take over the scene,” He said, then turning towards the librarians, his spit angrily misting over Podak’s head. “Did you call them in? Gerald needs to come down here and get them out of our way.”

“We notified them immediately,” the librarian stated matter-of-factly, leaning back away from Inpoko’s spittle.

“Why? We handle the troubles in the Warren. Not them!”

“One of the dead was Evad. He was an adviser to King Dhoug, and a Wizard Guild member. I had to call them in.” The librarian looked to Podak for help, clearly feeling that he couldn’t reason with the bugbear.

Podak stuck his spear tip between the two, forcing Inpoko back away from the librarians.

Voem moved to back up Podak, in case Inpoko took offense at Podak. After all, they were right. It was proper procedure.

“Go talk to them about what is going on. If they are taking over then we can just leave and let you handle the clean-up,” Podak said to the wizards. With a grimace, the two librarians approached the Grey watchmen standing out front.

“Gerald will sort it out.” Podak said trying to calm the irritated bugbear. “Until then we have to keep this crowd out of the way before someone tries to pick-pocket one of those wizards.”

That was Gerald’s job after all.

The goblin clans and councils were mostly left to police their own. However, they all had to answer to the Nobles’ Council. They were the real power in Khoma. The Watch was there to keep an eye on things, and kept the clans in line. The Magistrate was the human liaison to smooth out the rough spots.

If anything got out of hand the Council would send the Greys to sort it out. As far as the Nobles’ Council was concerned, the Watch was just there to make things look good to the masses. No one in the Khoma main trusted the idea of goblins running their own affairs right outside the city wall. Gerald was there to reassure the Council and other humans that things were under control.

“Did you notice that they turned the defenses back on?” Inpoko pointed towards a statue of a dragon on the roof. Every few minutes it shifted its head from one side to the other as if eyeing the crowd. A scant stream of smoke drifted up from its nostrils. Behind it, a dusty soot colored gargoyle stretched its limbs like someone who had been sitting too long. Voem felt a chill up his spine as he watched them back.

Inpoko motioned towards the three goblins with Podak. “Are these my reinforcements?”

“No, they are here to watch over the cleanup crew. If the Greys ever let us in…”

Inpoko snorted his disapproval. Then he turned towards Voem. “Voem, I think your grandpa Nitte is here. I’ve had reports of some old gob harassing the guard at the rear entrance for a job. That old piece of sinew is always first in line for cleanup work. If he weren’t so old, I’d guess he was killing people just to get the job mopping up the blood.”

Voem turned his head to sneak a glance towards the back of the Library, but he couldn’t see to the back door. Inpoko slapped him on the helmet.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, ya little gob. There is no shame in the oldest living gob being in your family. As long as you kill him off before he embarrasses you. Ha, ha.”

“Alright, Inpoko.” Podak turned to Voem and the other two goblins. “Voem, take these two around back and pick out a cleanup crew. Just go on in with them. I am sure the Greys are too busy to care, and I could use the money from the clean-up.”

With a nod, the three walked off towards the back. In his oversized helm and studded leather coat Voem looked younger than he was, which could explain the lack of obedience from some of the other gobs. Carrying a short spear, and a warhammer at his side, he tried to be one of the more heavily armed goblins in the Watch to make up for his age. But at nearly seventeen he was almost past his prime for a goblin. Most the recruits were barely teenagers.

Under his large, visored helm though, his greenish-red completion and browning teeth showed his age. Voem adjusted his helm to push his dreads back up under it. The over-sized helm had helped keep his eyes shielded from the bright days all summer long. Now it mainly kept his confidence up and his dreadlocks in place. The dreadlocks in turn helped cushion the bulky helm on his head. It was a trick that Grandpa Nitte had shown him.

Clan politics had forced Voem to take up the Watch. Extra young males were often turned out by the clans at twelve, the age of maturity for goblins. They usually left to work in the mines or joined a mercenary company. Either you came back rich and bought a wife, came back a hero and were given a wife, or you didn’t come back at all.

Voem had stayed in Khoma when his family ended up on the losing end of an internal clan dispute. Being on the losing end his family was forced out of their homes near the docks. Most had eventually joined other clans. Voem had joined the Watch. Though not a great fighter, he had taken to it like a small crab to a large shell, and a year later he had grown to make it his home.

The crowd of spectators was much thinner in the back, huddled mainly around the alley where the goblin guard had been killed. Two Greys stood watch over entrance to the alley, but behind them Voem could see a human priest examining the corpse. As he watched the priest was trying to cast some charm over the corpse. The crowd mumbled their disapproval.

“That soul will be tainted,” one of the other goblins mumbled. Voem somberly nodded agreement. Human magic tainted the spirit, rendering it lost. Hopefully goblin rites had been preformed first.

As they approached the back entrance, the Grey at the outer wall paid them little attention. The five goblins from Inpoko’s patrol were already there, keeping the onlookers far enough away that the Grey was not concerned. Voem could hear Nitte calling to him over the murmurs of the crowd but he ignored it.

Voem turned his helm around so the Grey could see his face. The man stood nearly a half-meter taller than him. Voem hated interaction with humans in general, and Greys in particular. They were always smug when it came to dealing with goblins.

“What do you want?” the Grey asked even before Voem could speak. He didn’t even glance at him.

“We are to watch over a cleaning party for the librarians,” Voem said.

“Where is your cleaning party?” He looked down his nose at Voem and the other two.

Voem turned around towards the crowd and saw Nitte eyeing him expectantly. From the looks on the faces of the gobs standing around him, it was clear that word of the mess inside had spread and that labor would be needed.

“Them,” he said, pointing at the group around Nitte.

“All right,” the Grey said matter-of-factly and stood aside.

Voem picked out the goblins he wanted, taking eight in all including Nitte who exchanged insults with the other Watchmen from Inpoko’s team as he skirted through their line and smiled smugly as he walked past Voem.

Quickly, they escorted the group inside the outer wall to the courtyard well. Almost instinctively the cleaners went to the well shed and began grabbing buckets and rags. Some of them must have been doing this kind of work for a long time in the human quarter of the city. You could always find good servants and housekeepers in the Warren, Voem thought, yet the Warren was always dirty.

Crime scene clean up and body disposal was one of the duties of the Watch. Not the doing, but rather the making sure that it was done so diseases would not spring up. In the early weeks of his time in the Watch crime scene clean up was all he seemed to do. Voem gave the crew the usual speech on what they would be doing, how they were being paid to shut up about it, as wells as clean it up. Smirks at the thought of extra money spread among the group. Then they sat down to wait for the librarians to come and open the back door.

Nitte found a spot on the courtyard lawn where he sat eyeing the wards and statues on the roof. Even the other castoffs didn’t sit near him. Nitte’s tall, meter-and-a-half frame had lost some of the strength that it had once had, but he was still capable of handling himself in a fight.

Nitte had joined a mercenary clan in his youth and had amassed a small fortune in gems that allowed him marry into Voem’s clan, though that fortune was gone now. Voem was not sure if they were actually related, as his grandmother had had several marriages. Voem’s mother was born during the second one. Nitte was the third. All the same, Voem had always, albeit grudgingly at times, called him Grandfather.

Nitte was one of the oldest living goblins in the city, though no one ever seemed able to say how old he actually was. He was definitely the oldest of the castoffs and practically clanless. Still his exaggerated tales and fights he would get into over them, Nitte’s stories had been an inspiration to Voem when he was a child and Voem tried to look after him a little.

Sitting on the grass of the courtyard, Nitte still looked like an old campaigner. His green-grey hide was tough and tight on his face and arms. The worn pair of leather pants, his padded vest ov er an old plain shirt were very much like the uniforms he had described to Voem as a child. The only things missing were a scale mail coat and shield.

Though his face bore the scars of weather and age, his thistley beard was kept trimmed to a tight point on his chin. His fangs were yellowed with years of stelt and pipe, and chipped from wear. To most he was a fossil covered in meat that should have been eaten years ago, but some fire of resistance still burned in him that kept him active and unwilling to die. Voem admired that.

It was a while before the librarians finally showed up at the back door. The apprentice opened it and looked surprised, as if he had forgotten that they would be here to help. He made them wait a little longer while he went inside to confirm that they were to be let in, but at last, he motioned them to enter.

Voem paid no heed to the instructions the apprentice librarian was giving to the others. He was only here to oversee. Besides, his attention was drawn elsewhere. Voem had never been inside the Library. Clearly, neither had any of the others, everyone was staring about the room in wonder.

The stonework and trim of the building interior was elaborate but organized compared to cluster of statues on the roof. Most of these motifs depicted goblins in suffering. It was no wonder goblins weren’t allowed inside. All they needed was another reason to mistrust wizards.

This part of the Library was an open sunken circle ringed from above by a walkway. The walls were lined with shelves of books and scrolls, some as big as Voem’s arm, some as thin as a finger. Even the middle of the room was crowded here and there with the intrusion of shorter shelves. Gilding and gems decorated the ends of the shelves, but many had holes where gems had once been.

Large tables were set up around the room and everywhere there was a light. Mismatched lamps bathed everything in silver and gold, even the ceiling, painted with the moons and stars, was illuminated with tiny lights. Additionally, each table had at least one candlestick that glowed white for its whole length and emitted no smoke. In the abundant illumination, the blackened dried blood stood out in little spots and big crusty blotches.

At a table in the middle of the room a body sat upright as if still reading, though the table and floor around him were covered in blood. On one of the walls nearby, a bookshelf had been ransacked, and piles of scrolls, were strewn about it like unwanted toys. Near the wall, a stack of books had also been overturned and dumped across a table and the floor. Further up the aisle, a group of Greys had already started preparing another victim for removal.

Voem watched as the apprentice directed the goblins to various areas of the Library and sent others out to get more rags and buckets. Across the room he could see Gerald, the older librarian, and another man talking animatedly. He guessed they were still discussing whose turf it would be. Once the apprentice had chased all the goblins off to their chores, Voem crept in to get a closer look at the wizard sitting at the table.

The dead wizard’s head was cocked to one side as if he had been in the middle of turning the page. The pen in his hand was still hovering over the page, although whatever he had been writing was blotted out by the blood on the table. The illusion of a wizard peacefully reading was broken when Voem stepped to the side to glance at the man’s face.

What was left of his face was so obscured by dried blood that it was hard to make out any of his features. His beard, grayed and curly, was blackened where the blood had flowed down from his mouth destroying the hinted at expression of a relaxed study. Voem’s heart skipped a little.

All the blood and gore that covered the man had come from his face. It looked as if his sinuses had been pried open by some fiend, who then put it all back as careful as could be Except for the eyes. Instead, two empty sockets stared back at him.

“Gruesome, huh?”

Voem turned to see his grandfather casually holding a bucket of soapy water; two clean rags were slung over his shoulder and another in his hand. Voem wanted to smack the old gob for sneaking up on him like that. “They are fiendish creatures,” said Nitte, shaking his head as if he remembered something more than just the dead man in front of him. “They make you do things. As if they were your greatest friend, as if you weren’t even yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look at his hands. He was in the middle of reading when they tapped him.” Nitte climbed up on a chair to get a fuller view of the scene. “See, this is the book he was taking notes from. They moved it out of the way before they did it to him. So they wouldn’t spoil the book.”

Voem climbed up on the chair next to his. Looking closely, he could make out where the metal brackets of heavy tome had scratched the table top as it was pulled clear of the blood pool. “How do you know that?”

“They are like that, supposedly. Very careful of books and knowledge. Just in case they can’t get what they want from their victim.” Nitte pointed at the hollow-faced wizard. “From their brains.”

Voem stared at Nitte in disbelief. That didn’t make sense. He looked at the book. It was a language he couldn’t read, neither the local human tongue nor the goblin. Noting his confusion, Nitte leaned over the book. “In this case it looks like they weren’t very interested in… herbal remedies.”

Voem was staring at the man’s face more closely now, trying to peer into the darkness.

“Do you mean they took his brain?” He asked.

“Yeah, that’s how they get their knowledge. They read it from your mind. And if that don’t give them what they want, they eat your brain and absorb it that way.”

“Osmiso? But I thought that didn’t work for humans?”

“It doesn’t work for humans. But the murderer was not human, and it does work for them.” Nitte smirked like charlatan with a secret. For a moment he seemed like a different person staring at the bloody corpse.

“Who then? And how do you suddenly know all this stuff?” Voem demanded.

“I’m not sure. I think they’re called illids,” said Nitte turning to Voem with a knowing smile. “It‘s amazing what you can learn from doing the Osmiso on a wizard.” Voem noticed Nitte’s tale had attracted the attention of a few other eavesdroppers. Though none of the goblins seemed very impressed.

“Ha! You almost had me there, you old saddle,” scoffed one of the other goblins who had been listening in. “As if you ever ate a wizard, Nitte!”

“Alright get to work,” Voem shouted at the upstart. Voem dropped down from the chair with a thump and pushed them off with his spear shaft. “Get to work. All of you.”

As they moved off Voem shot a look back at Nitte. He was wiping off a nearby shelf, fangs locked together angrily. Voem could see his lips moving as he mumbled some threat under his breath.

He could never tell if the old fart was just telling another tall tale or if what he said was true. Most likely he was still drunk, and telling tales. Voem took off his helmet and gathered his dreads back up into a ponytail. He would have to talk to Nitte another time, alone, when he was sure the old stick was sober. There was the odd chance that Nitte knew what he was talking about. If so, Voem might have to take it to Podak or even Gerald.

While the others worked on the cleanup, Voem did a quick walk-through of the Library. It seemed smaller than he had pictured it. The multitude of shelves looked impressive initially, but there were shops in the Warren with more racks. As Voem worked his way through the corridors of shelves he noted the titles on the books. Mostly just junk on herbs and remedies, although many were in languages that he couldn’t read. He had always imaged that there would be more. Not that he expected to see a book on curses just sitting on the shelf, but he secretly hoped to see something more along those lines.

Not having found anything interesting, he returned to where he could keep an eye on his work crew, but away from the bloody mess. It looked like things were going well enough. Gerald and the Greys were carefully checking the body at the table now and readying a stretcher to carry him out. Gerald, it appeared, was taking the situation seriously -he had donned his formal deep green cloak and pulled his grey blond hair back into a ponytail. While he didn’t look as formal as the Greys and their leader, he was definitely Warren-formal.

Voem quietly took a seat at one of the study tables. As he watched the Greys move the body of the mage onto the stretcher he wondered if they had already taken over the investigation. The crimes of the Warren were more relevant to Voem than wizards and their infighting. Keeping peace there was more interesting too. He rarely had to watch over moppers while doing Warren work. Still, the prestige of working on this would do wonders. Sticking it to the Greys and the wizards would be a huge morale boost for the Warren. And it might earn them some more respect from the Khoma council. Squinting against the artificial light, Voem considered the possibilities.

It was another hour before the cleanup was declared done by the librarian. The junior librarian had used the workers for a little more than just the blood clean up before he ordered them out. As they escorted the workers out the back way, Voem noticed that the crowd outside had thinned considerably. Though there was little else to do for entertainment in the Warren, only the children had time to watch the Greys pace around the Library. The rest had work to do.

Before he left, Voem asked Podak about the case. Would they be investigating it?

“No, the Greys and the Wizards want us to stay out of it. But Gerald wants me to keep an eye on them,” Podak replied. “The Greys are planning on patrolling the Warren even though this was clearly not a goblin crime. Their presence might set off some of the clans.” Podak seemed exacerbated by the whole idea. “Go home get some rest. I am putting you and Sewol on their tail tonight. The Ratters will be helping shadow them too. So take a break for now and report back to the Watchhouse by nightfall.”

With his new orders, Voem left the compound with the rest of the workers. Without a complaint, all of them collected their silver and headed out to spend it, probably on stelt. Voem hollered at Nitte that he wanted to talk to him, but Nitte ignored him. Voem didn’t care enough to chase the old gob down right now. It could wait until he’d sobered up.

Next Chapter: Chapter 2