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It is said that soon after the world was created, the gods waged war on each other for its dominance, they recruited all the living creatures big and small to do their bidding, the beast fought against beast and men fought against men, and the gods rejoiced in their own madness until the age of bloodshed lasted long enough for the flames to consume everything there was.

In the end only Love and Fertility prevailed, the only ones who refused to fight, their brothers and sisters had all perished, leaving them alone in a crimson world.

Thus Love and Fertility walked the earth healing the soil, healing the sky and healing the seas, but they alone could not repopulate the earth, for all the male gods lay dead, at least for now.

And so one day another deity was born from the spilled blood of all male gods, and as soon as he opened his eyes this new god called himself Lust.

Lust tasted the wind and caught the scent of the two goddesses; he ran across the world and before two moons had passed he saw himself become the father of all living creatures, the moons kept passing and the earth returned to its former glory, and so both men and beast rose again.

Day and night Lust attended to his duties with the two goddesses, but soon he found that his desires where too wild to be satiated just by them. The earth was ripe with life again, and his urges found plenty of suitable partners among his sons and daughters: the humans.

Lust visited the tribes and towns, the cities and the citadels, while adopting the form of a mortal he made no distinction between male or female, and the ones touched by his grace where gifted with the ability to produce many, many children.

Fertility looked at Lust´s work with complacence, and rewarded him greatly for his deeds when he eventually came back to her and Love, but Love didn't feel the same way, in her heart the seeds of jealously began to grow, until she realized she now resented her own sister and her sons...

What follows after this changes drastically depending on whom you ask, from the common human folk on the cities of Red Valley to the dragon-worshippers in Windfall Rock, hundreds of different tales diverge from this point, all flavored with the local culture. A compendium of such variations would be enough to fill tome after tome, this study, being as lengthy as it is, shall focus only in the similarities they share.

These similarities being of course, the rise of the beastfolk [...]

Hackeem Shamud- On why everything is so literally fucked up: A study.Few things gave Dago the same feeling of dread as banks did.

No matter wherever they stood, they always looked the same: Monolithic, soulless and with that ever present aura of orderly evil that always loomed over his head once inside, he couldn't help but feel the fur on the back of his neck stiffen every single time he crossed the entrance as if he had a gigantic gaping maw following him, ready to close in with its fangs as soon as he looked over his shoulder.

He had felt more at ease on the wrong side of an ambush, multiple times. More that he could count anyway.

How many fucking times. He thought, striding through the hall and pushing people around as he approached the counter. How many fucking times I'm going to walk in one of these hellholes just to get milked worse than a cheap whore? At least they get plenty of cock for their efforts.

He sent a surprisingly thin and skittish looking bear against a guard who was approaching to stop him. Well...at least not figuratively speaking like me. Both fell into the ground and ended up entangled on each other like a couple of lovebirds rolling in the grass.

The clerk had no time to say anything before Dago shoved a signed paper on her face, the same he had shoved on the muzzles of the guards outside the bank when they had asked him to give up his sword, without knowing he carried a whole arsenal inside the huge sack over his shoulder.

"Just point me in the direction of the representative 's office, if you would be so kind. " He spat, already guessing the answer despite having never been to that branch before.

Although she did look like one of the local kobolds, the clerk 's accent was as thick as the speech of sailor, probably an easterner for all Dago cared.

"Roight there, sire," She said pointing at a door in the other side of the hall, almost in a whisper with the paper still on her face. "passit and its on the third door on the left."

Dago was about to go away without bothering with an answer, but he felt like he was being enough of an asshole already.

"Thank you madam, I apologize for the inconveniences." He gave a little bow in her direction and made his way towards the door she had pointed, paying no mind to the crowd staring at him and at the two fellows who where now awkwardly standing up, looking embarrassed at each other and muttering apologies as if they had bumped on each other by accident.

As the female kobold had told him, the office he was searching for was the third one at the left. Even the layout never changes. He opened the door. I fucking hate banks.

The representative looked at him as if he had been just another employee who had just showed up with a bunch of accounting books, his tired rodent eyes sparkled for a moment and then he began to make space on the desk, putting away quills, scrolls, paperweights and heavy tomes, making them disappear under his desk.

I can't believe it took me this long to find a rat holding this position.

"You must be Mr. Malginn..." said the rat as he stored a handful of papers inside a drawer, leaving the desk free.

"Unfortunately, that is the case." Dago ignored the hand extended towards him and took the sack out of his back and held it with both arms.

The rat retired his hand, undisturbed by his lack of response.

"Conrad Jacques at your service, how can I help-" and before he could say more, the sack fell over the desk and rattled like a fully armored knight falling downstairs.

Still unimpressed, the rat began to examine the contents of the sack, taking each item with infuriating delicacy and examining them with a jeweler's monocle he took out of his clothes, muttering to himself in the process.

Dago watched him evaluate his harvest, carefully pulling each piece aside over his desk as he was done with them.

"Careful with that one, the blade goes in flames when you take it out of its sheath."

"Oh, I see...ooh, Drakkan craft indeed," Jacques nodded at Dago as he lined it with the rest, "a remarkable feat to find one these days."

Fuck you. Why do I even bother?

The rat kept going, several ornate weapons lay now on the desk, some of them glowed on their own, some had outlandish names carved on their blades and most, if not all, were stupidly impractical to wield, let alone to swing. One particular piece exuded a visible cold aura that left traces of frost over the desk; it would have been cool if not for the fact that holding it for more than five minutes had the risk to cause serious hypothermia.

Dago sighed; each one of those fucking things was worth a small fortune on its own.

But no matter how much he brought them...

"I imagine that you did not manage to secure a Wardstone, Mr.Malginn." said Jacques as he put his monocle back in his clothes. "There is no need to stress how important-"

"Oh, I know, but there's never and end on how fucking many do you want me to fetch for you, so, as you are well aware, I'm on a bit of a stretch here, you know? And since I don't feel like you are milking me dry enough already, I say to myself: hey, why not pay Rowler & Sons a visit? I'm sure they would love to see me! "

"You are well aware that the matter it is well out my control, the intere-"

"Shut the fuck up. You know it's not just the interests here," said Dago, pointing a finger right between the Jacque´s eyes, "and even if it were just for the fucking interests, and not by that cocksucker of Rogan adding more out of spite by the time I show up with the fucking things, I would have been done with this shit ages ago!"

"This is certainly where being... timely with your deliveries would help your case, Mr. Malginn."

"Oh, yeah, BECAUSE YOU KICK A ROCK AND FUCKING WARDSTONES COME UP."

Dago was almost on him, both of his hands clawing the fine surface of the desk, all the muscles of his arms almost bursting out with anger.

He felt something starting to burn in his left arm under the cloth of his shirt, from shoulder to elbow; there was no indication that something was actually burning there, but it hurt like hell.

Jacques almost looked afraid for a moment, but soon it was gone, his calm demeanor seemed to return.

I know you are shitting yourself inside you little turd I CAN FUCKING SMELL IT!

"That is certainly none of my concern, Mr.Malginn."

And you are damn well about to shit yourself on the outside too...

Dago relaxed his arms and got back, it was pointless. He looked at the marks on the desk; that desk probably was worth more than his weight in gold and yet it was a pittance compared to one of the weapons on the table, and much, much less compared to what he already owed.

He sighed.

"...Just...just discount the fucking desk from my commission, I have a contract in the city that might actually lead to a something."

"I-I can let a couple of scratches go pass, if it's any help."

The sheer absurdity of the suggestion almost made Dago lose it and roll on the floor in laughter.

Instead he gave the rat a grin that showed a fang or two and went for the door.

 "Whatever, it doesn't really matter." Fuck it, just fuck it.

"Mr. Malginn you won't stay to...?"

 "I´ll come back later when you are finished cursing my cut, I'm not staying to hear whatever those trinkets are worth." I need a drink, and a fuck, and then another drink after that, to hell with this shit. "Just tell His Majesty if you see him that he can shove every single one up his ass, I will be in the field fetching him some stones if he needs me."

Leaving the bank almost made Dago feel like himself again, damn but he couldn't help but burst out on these occasions.

The world outside was quite different to say the least, the façade of Rowler & Sons stood out like sore thumb made of grey stone in the midst of the glorified cave that was the kobold city, the already gigantic square structure looked even bigger when surrounded by the smaller, stranger bulbous local architecture scattered all over Bulwark´s Mine, the whole place was full of multiple shades of green and brown as plenty of moss and vines covered the buildings, most of them either carved in stone or fungalwood, even the kind of people who flocked inside the bank felt out of place, being mostly traders from all over the land few of them were as short as the local populace. Going deeper into the city, the sight of humans and mammal beastfolk became way sparser.

Dago took a map from one of his pockets and tried to make sense of it, either kobolds had a great sense of direction or they were awfully incompetent at city planning, maybe both, the streets looked more like veins and rivers flowing from one point of interest to the other, not a nice place to get lost in.

He curled it into a ball and put it back in the pocket, he was going to ask for directions and if he stumbled with a bar on the way, all the better.

Get myself some strong ale and some local ass... Boy or girl? Which will it be this time?

He recalled the clerk on the bank; she was kinda cute now that he thought about it.

A girl, then.

Dago approached a grey scaled kobold who had just bought some fruit in a market stall.

"Excuse me...eehm... sir, could you please point me in the direction of the Skallar Manor?" He said, trying to be as polite and non-threatening as possible, just in case he happened to come across a shy one.

"Oh, that way sir, you go a couple of blocks until you see a building that looks like a snail´s shell, once there you take the bifurcation to the left until you reach Skallar´s plaza, its named after the same family so you will surely find someone who can help you from there."

Dago eyed the young fellow as he pointed the way, some girly proportions... but undoubtedly a male, the giveaway were the sharper ridges on the scales over his eyes, where mammals tended to have eyebrows.

Cute voice even in males...nice tush under that tail to boost...maybe I should go for a boy this time.

"Thank you sir, have a nice day."

He kept checking up on the natives as he walked among them, it was a bit difficult to tell the genders apart at first sight, especially when most kobolds wore similar clothing, but that only added to the charm, most of them barely reached the level of his elbows, and that made his imagination work like a draft horse.

Now he truly felt like himself, out the anger and the frustration, in the same old horndog as always.

What the hell, you don't get to sample kobolds often. I'm doing one of each before leaving.  

He started fantasizing; two nice rumps on a bed, their owners utterly spent and panting in the afterglow, struggling to catch a breath before the next round...

The building with the shape of a snail´s shell came into view, an assortment of kobolds and other species gathered in front of the entrance, it had no sign of any sort, but judging by the lack of drunkards and the amount of armed people walking in and out in groups it was easy to recognize it as the local adventurer´s guild, probably the best place to get a guide if one planned to make an incursion into the depths of the mine, kobold workers had a knack for uncovering all sorts of things that were better left underground, or not, depending on the outlook.

Or in the number of heads they have, in most cases.

Dago had no interest on the mines, but he could use someone to watch his back out there, the roads had their own dangers and lately they had been getting worse, he decided against it, at least for the moment, he would take a look before leaving the city, and after having his fun.

"Do you have any business here, wolf?" blurted one of the guards, a tall Doberman clad in full plate armor.

"Let me present myself, good sir, name´s Dago Malginn: licensed Knight Errant, I believe Herr Skallar has been awaiting my arrival." Replied Dago as he made a little bow.

To Rashi, the individual standing in front of the gate didn't entirely look like a knight to him, and sure as hell didn't look like a wolf either: the features of his face looked softer, almost gentle compared to those of other wolves he had seen before, not even his eyes had a trace of those pin-point pupils that seemed to distinguish them from their less temperamental brethren.

All he wore for armor was a sleeveless brigandine that covered him up to his knees and a pair of riveted leather greaves on his legs, the weapon that dangled sheathed from his hip seemed to be a standard bastard sword. Any of the guards at the gate could have played the role more convincingly.

The Doberman eyed up the newcomer, frowning as if he had been thinking the exact same thing, yet it still looked like he could see in the knight something that Rashi couldn't.   Maybe he was able to smell the breach that separated them? Canines always placed a lot of importance in such things.

"Can you show me your authorization?"

Dago handed a piece of paper, and the guard took it, rising an eyebrow as his eyes went from left to right and back over the text.

"You may pass...sir."

"Thank you, officer."From up in the tall mushroom Rashi could see the Knight stuff the paper back into his clothes as he walked through the now opened gate.

He climbed off, making sure that the guards did not see him, there was nothing to do for now, except wait.

"It is not my intention to lecture you on the inner workings of local politics, Mr. Malginn, but as you might imagine, the involvement of my family in the administration of Bulwark´s mine, despite being very close to its own history, is still frowned upon by certain sections of the populace...and of the nobility, House Skallar is loathed by some of the older castes that go back to very founding of this settlement."

Herr Octus Skallar wasn't an elderly man, he did not seem to surpass his forties, but he looked ill, terribly ill, the furless features of his flat human face were skinny, and above all, pale, his kin rarely fared well in places such as this one, at least for prolonged periods of time.

You need to get out of this city more often, old man.

 "We were in great measure responsible for the resurgence of trade after the mines stopped being the powerhouse of the region, we brought prosperity in a time of uncertainty, yet since the time of my predecessors, we have been forced to prove ourselves in the face of great ungratefulness. But of course, our contributions might very well be the double edged sword that has put us in this predicament, jealously is a powerful thing around these parts."

Skallar took a sip of his tea, and Dago did the same . Not exactly what I needed, but you don't come across stuff this good nowadays. As soon as he put the empty cup over the table it was promptly filled again by the ever present butler, a human that seemed quite a bit livelier than his master, considering he was probably twice his age.

"These days the mines are a great source of both opportunity...and trouble: certain sections that were believed to be on their last legs in terms of production are experiencing a resurgence the deeper the excavations get, but, in the same vein as my family´s success, that comes with a price,: there are a great deal of inner caves that contain all sorts of forgotten wonders and dangers, as of late, the adventurers have been doing a great deal of exploration instead of just making sure nothing eats the workers, and this has become a point of interest for the Houses of the council..."

"Do they want to tax the adventurers?" Asked Dago, this time he left just a bit of tea on the cup after drinking it, the butler stood on his place, leaving it alone.

Skallar waved his hand in negation as he tried to contain a coughing fit, it took him a bit to regain his voice.

 "No...no, things don't work here quite as they do where you come from, Mr. Malginn, we have been sponsoring them in their expeditions, not taxing them, you see, it's a great deal of publicity for the nobility when a party under their patronage comes back exhibiting the spoils for all the populace to see, and it fills the natives with a sense of pride when said parties are lead by their own people, as you might have noticed, it's rare for them to go without a guide with a great sense of direction in the dark."

"I don't want to be disrespectful, Herr Skallar, but I fail to see what my role in all of this is, and it is my understanding that the nature of our contract did not involve the mines."

"That was until recent events forced me to postpone it... Ned, would you be kind enough as to hand us the map?"

The Butler took a piece of folded paper from a drawer at his side and unfolded it over the table, showing the multi layered cutout of a mountain, each passage and tunnel in all the excavated levels of the mine were rendered in painstaking detail, considering how the mapmaker had to squeeze the complex layout of all seven floors in just one piece. Much like the streets of the city, the routes merged and separated in multiple directions until they all met again in what Dago presumed to be points of interest formerly rich in minerals.

Some sections showed interesting deviations from the rest of the mine, as many openings and caves had been discovered while mining, there was even an entire inner river flowing from the third level to the fifth before stagnating in a lake deep enough to reach the sixth level.

Skallar rested a finger on the easternmost fringe of the map, in the seventh level, gently tapping the spot as he spoke.

"This is a matter that I can only trust to someone of your expertise, Sir Malginn, and if I was in need of your help before, I am even more so now."

Dago winced, there used to be a time in which it used to be far more frequent for people to refer to him as Sir Malginn, instead of just mister Malginn, more often than not in a mocking tone, but there was not a single shred of disrespect in Skallar´s voice, it was a nice gesture, yet a painful reminder.

"It has become a commonplace that when a sponsored party ventures the mines, they get granted the custody of a symbol to identify their allegiance in the eyes of the populace: it can be whatever the house that finances the expedition wishes, like a banner or a weapon, but sadly, as of late, it has become quite the fad among the nobility that said symbol has to be something of...great meaning... like a family heirloom."

The look on his face said it all. You can see where this is going.

"The idea is that the adventurers already put their skin on the line, so the one that contracts them also has to be with them a least on spirit, as of late, the noble houses have been trying to outdo each other, and I, in my foolishness, could not afford to be left behind."

Skallar took a sip of tea, and massaged his temple with his free hand.

"Despite being perfectly aware that sending a priceless family relic down to the depths of hell is a-and pardon me the language- retarded idea, I do not give custody of personal relics to just anyone and send them merrily to their doom. I contracted a perfectly capable and professional team, and provided them with all the equipment and logistics they could possibly need, yet it seems that both me and that team bit more than we should have tried to chew..."

"The team went missing?" Dago guessed.

The human shook his head.

"The team was slaughtered." he said.

The finger pointed back at the spot on the map.

"This is where they fell, shredded to pieces by something lurking in the dark; nobody has dared to venture into this part of the mine since then, good news is: nobody in the other houses will try to recover the heirloom to ransom me for it, bad news, well, it goes without saying."

Then finding a guide might prove to be a challenge.

Dago caressed the pommel of his sword, as if making a reassurance to the old man.

Guess I will have to scratch the bottom of the barrel if I cannot find someone on the guild, but then again, adventurers are not known for their long term planning, someone is bound to join this little quest.

"I see, so we seal the deal after I complete this task, instead of our original arrangement?"

"Do not take this lightly, Sir Malginn, I said I don't just send anyone to met an untimely end down there, your task is to retrieve, not to avenge a bunch of mercenaries, unless it's inevitable, do not engage in unnecessary combat, once we get that out of the way we can return to our original arrangement, with a sizable bonus, of course."

"I understand, Herr Skallar, what is the nature of this relic you speak of?"

His fingers tapped onto the pocket in his cloak, the almost inaudible clanging of the hip flask through the worn cloth reminded him that he damn well deserved a break. Perhaps now it's the time to refill this baby.

Dago sighed as he sat on one of the benches in the guild hall; that day seemed to never end, first the dealings in the bank, then his arrangements with Herr Octus had giving way to a glorified fetch task in the mines, and now this.

So far, his efforts to find a guide had been fruitless, Skallar had told him that looking for someone in the guild could do no harm, but now it certainly felt like a waste of his time, by now he could have already collapsed both drunk and spent in a brothel´s bed, and the world would not have been worse for it.

Too much to ask.

But instead, he had met plenty of guides that outright shuddered at the very mention of the seventh level, no adventurer bands where currently operating in the area, and the people who did go that far were merely watching over the miners along with elements of the city watch, apparently the very notion of going nowhere near the zone where the party fell had become almost taboo, and it had only happened roughly a week before his arrival.

Or that was the estimate of the ones that found the remains, four days prior a team composed of humans from Red Valley and their guide had stumbled upon the most gruesome display of carnage they had ever seen. They spoke of tore limbs scattered across the floor and of half chewed corpses, opened and rotten like the carcasses of livestock in the back of a butcher´s shop, of an indescribable reek that stagnated the air and a of a soft grunting in the dark that had made the humans run for their lives without even considering to loot the dead, they had fled the city soon after they reached the surface, leaving the relic of their sponsor behind their cheap motel room --a medallion, apparently-- and their tale in every tongue they came across.

So in the end not one, but two, noble houses were dishonored in a day, likely a great contributor on the fear that loomed over the subject, besides the colorful descriptions of the state of the bodies.

I´ve been doing this for far too long to know that there has to be someone crazy enough to come with me, even if it's not a guide and we both have to make our way through that fucking maze with just a map and a couple of torches.

He had to admit to himself, there was no way in hell he was going down there without someone to keep watch while he slept.

He got up, and made it for the street, that was enough for the day, he could worry about that first thing in the morning, or maybe it was already dawning.

It was difficult to tell in that part of the city, so far from the entrance of the cave.

Fortunately, one of the guides had had the courtesy of pointing him to the nearest tavern, at least he got that for his trouble, and who knew, guilds were not the only places where crazy people met to stab things in deep dark places.

I know what I want to stab deep into some dark places, that's for sure.

 The tavern in question, The Inner Fire, was a cozy looking establishment located midway into the opposite street that lead to Skallar´s Plaza, it was big, it was noisy, and it was smelly, filled to the brim with the scent of alcoholism and debauchery, among other things.

 Darling, I'm home!

He crossed the door, and was greeted by the chanting of the drunkards, by a horrible violinist that sounded like he was torturing a small animal, by the familiar cluster of stimuli that hit his snout with renewed force, this time complimented by the strong presence of the locals, he looked around, and saw plenty of them among the mammals and the occasional human, drinking, arguing, gambling, shouting, laughing, crying, drooling, jeering, and touching each other under the tables with little to no subtlety, it was a sight for madmen, and there Dago felt at peace, all the weariness of the day slowly slipped off his hide as he took a seat.

In front of a fire, a female kobold danced for those interested in her, bare-chested, it was truly a strange sight to see that unlike other lizardfolk, kobold females lacked breasts and nipples, being as barren as the males in that department, Dago knew plenty of people that felt weirded out by such a thing, after all, what was the point of not having breasts? Even with that, this particular female had other means to attract the attention of the crowd, more specifically involving her barely clothed backside.

Now that he was thinking about it actually, he had always considered funny the fact that there was such a thing as a distinction of mammals and non mammals that included lizarfolk with breasts in the latter, they did not produce milk like other species, but they were still mammaries, oh the intricacies of the language... what practical purpose could they possibly serve if not to nurture the young? Clearly one of the greatest mysteries of the univ-

He hadn't even realized that he was already bottoming his tankard of ale; he stopped, and bashed it against the table, dumbfounded.

When did I even order this?

His gaze went back and forth from the precious little kobold rump in the other side of the room to his drink.

Clever bastards.

He did his best not to stare in her direction again.

Two inebriated customers left their seats by one of the windows, laughing as they both tried to sustain each other while they made a clumsy retreat towards the door, Dago moved there with his tankard, and resumed his drink as he watched the people pass in the street, his thoughts started to drift, ignoring his tired limbs as he relaxed on his seat.

It was a sort of ceremony, a certain preparation before the haunt for booty that he liked to perform when he had the opportunity, a slow buildup before the storm hit the shore, more often than not he ended up paying for his pleasure whether he did it or not, but his touch was still there.

He had a reputation for these things after all.

.......................................................................

All was good in the world.

His head hurt like if it had been hit with a mace, every limb of his body felt tired as if he had been running through a field clad in full plate the day after, and his overspent testicles made him walk with long, careful steps as he got out of the inn, protesting any contact from his underwear or his own inner thighs, no matter how minimal it were.

All was great in the world.

There was not a single soul in the street, with the ever present ceiling of the cave replacing the sky, there was no way of telling that it was almost morning, yet Bulwark´s Mine had just begun to wake up all the same, as if its inhabitants had the stubborn habit of behaving like any other city.

 Dago walked, truly satisfied with himself for the first time in months, he had got all he could ask for and more in last night´s hunt, it had been almost too good in fact, and he couldn't help but think in the back of his head that papa fortune would take his toll later down the lane for that favor, but that old bastard could go fuck himself for now, it would take a lot more to get him out of his good mood.

He took a shortcut through a serpentine alleyway, licking his lips as he recalled his partners... such bold sweet little things, cutest couple he had come across in ages, specially the male, now that one gave a gre-

"There!" someone shouted, the tone alone said a lot.

He suddenly regretted the shortcut.

"There? Are you serious? Just look at this! The little shit could have gone anywhere!" replied someone, indignant.

A third voice interrupted.

 "Enough! You there, YOU there, I here, MOVE!"

And before he had time to back down, something short and green and red appeared from the turn in the alley, and crashed squarely against his chest, making a muffled unf! as it unintentionally buried its face on his brigandine.

Dago got the fugitive by the shoulders, too surprised to squeeze free, and maintained him or her at his arms length.

It was a kobold.

A fine specimen that was for sure, from its now open green cloak he could see a slender, curvy frame, wide hips, and crimson scales in the parts uncovered by the clothing, the squeal that escaped from under the hood as he tightened his grip was certainly girly, but as it fell back Dago could clearly see distinguishable ridges on the scales over his eyes, where eyebrows would be in mammals.

Good thing I like girly types, they are fucking everywhere in this town.

"What the...YOU?" the pupils of his brass reptilian eyes became two vertical slits as his jaw dropped, the scent of fear that surrounded him suddenly deepened to the point it became a disgusting reek.

I, what?

Dago was suddenly aware of the tingling of armor that started to reverb in the alley.

The kobold shirked, realizing it was too late to run, began to spout words in a terrified, almost whispering tone.

"Oh god, oh god, please don't let them catch me, I will do anything, sir! Anything! I-I will give you money, I´ll work for free!"  His head went back and forth between Dago and the turn in the alley. "I-I´ll suck you off b-but please for the love of god don't let them get me!"

Just because you owe me an explanation.

 "Shut up and do as I say." He whispered.

Dago turned around still grabbing the kobold by the shoulders, and pushed him to his knees, in the split of a second he had taken both his cloak and the kobold´s, and threw them at the side making sure the green one would be covered, he separated his legs, putting his groin right in the face of the fugitive.

 "Your hands on my buttocks, now."

He was relying in too many factors, what if they recognized the color of the scales? What if they got arrested for public indecency? What if the guard had seen his prey enter the alley?   

In another second the kobold got the idea, and grabbed Dago´s Buttocks with his hands, trying not to make direct contact with his crotch, the expression on his face was so miserable it was almost funny.

The guardsman came shouting from the turn, sword in hand.

"STOP RIGHT TH..."

And froze in place.

 "...the FUCK?" an expression full of surprise, embarrassment and disgust crept in the Doberman´s face, he waved his free hand as if he had been offered a plate full of dung, and backed off a couple of steps.

Dago made his best to look indignant as he shouted over his shoulder; after all he had been taken by surprise too, that guard certainly looked familiar.

 "Is it that I can't enjoy the services of a sissy boy-whore IN PEACE, officer?"

Dago had no idea whether his little stunt would have him jailed too, but recognition suddenly hit the guard.

"Malginn...? Oh god, gross...I'm sorry... you can...ugh...continue."

The Doberman made a gesture as if swatting a fly that read a lot like: "I don't get paid enough for this shit." and went back from whence he came.

Both Dago and the kobold stood still as the clinging of metal moved away.

"OOOH, YES! Right there, right there!" he shouted in fake delight, the clinging sound stopped for a second and then started again, fastened as it faded in the distance.

Silence crept in the alley for what seemed to be ages, the kobold was the first to speak.

"...T-thanks?"

Dago glared at those brass eyes, as the pain of understanding sunk in them.

"You just got out the pan to end up in the campfire, pal."

He grabbed the fugitive by the shoulders, lifted him and then shoved his body against the wall, pinning him in place at his eye level, the kobold had no time to react before the impact got the air out of his lungs, and Dago shifted the grip from the shoulders to the elbows, if he had any blades on him, he wouldn't reach them.

 "If I had known those where Skallar´s men I would have handed you faster than you could stuff your mouth with cock, now spill the beans before you start regretting all of this." Said Dago, showing all his teeth in a slow growl.

"I-I don't know what you are talking about, I just stole some bread!"

Do you think I'm stupid, you fucking lizard?

"You certainly look like the desperate type, but I'm not retarded, sunshine." He tightened his claws enough to pierce the cloth and sink just a little in the soft scales beneath. "You know me from somewhere."

"I just mistook you from someone else! I swear!"

"Listen here, see this sword?" Dago pointed with his snout at the blade at his hip. "If you don't start talking, I will shove the pommel waaay up inside your butthole, and you better be thankful that I had a great time last night... because otherwise I would threaten you with something much less forgiving, understood?"

The kobold nodded, and the reek of fear became intolerable.

"Good, now let's behave ourselves with some semblance of civility, kobold, if we have a deal, I will need your name, not an alias, the real thing, I you bullshit me, I will smell it."

"Rashi, sir! Rashi Lagar!"

"Good, now explain to me, how did you find yourself in this mess? It doesn't take a genius to guess you are working for one of the other houses."

Rashi´s body went lax, as if he had resigned to a fate in the gallows.

"I'm working with House Behrend... I was to spy on Skallar and determine if he was going to get outside help to recover his golden helmet, and...." He hesitated for a second.

"And...?"

"...present myself as the only guide who would dare to get into the mines; Herr Behrend... tasked me to steal the relic once it was secured."

Behrend...Behrend... oh, the guy whose champions were a bunch of pussies, go figure.

"Aaaah... I see, so in this case you would have sought me out, guided me down the depths of hell, let me do all the work, and then cut my throat in my sleep so you could get your hands on a fancy helmet."

For the first time, there was something else than fear in the Rashi´s face, the kobold stared away, and spoke between his teeth as he closed his eyes shut.

"I'm not a murderer." there was a trace of anger in his voice.

 "So you would have left me wandering alone in the dark until I starved myself to death, wow, how merciful of you."

Rashi still didn't meet Dago´s eyes, but the meekness returned to his voice.

"No! ...I'm...I´m better than that..." He sighed. "At least that's what I like to believe."

There was a hint of guilt to his voice, it was almost contagious.

"Okay, okay...now why in hell would you go to the seventh floor when nobody in this town has the balls?"

The kobold remained silent for a moment.

"Because I'm better at what I do than any of those hacks out there put together."

Dago smirked.

"I find the fact that you can boast in a moment like this to be incredibly cute, but there has to be something else under the rug that you are not telling me, come on, let it out."

Rashi gulped; if he already looked resigned he looked even more so now.

"I'm under contract."

"Under contract?"

"...Yes"

"That kind of contract?"

Rashi nodded.

"You are kidding."

"I am not! They made me sign with my blood!" now Rashi sounded indignant.

Dago almost choked.

This fucking guy.

"I'm afraid to tell you, my friend, that you have been taken for a ride."

"I..?What?"

"You have been fooled, tricked like a fair maiden, toyed with by a charlatan that seriously believed you can make one of those on paper; you are under no curse, kid."

The expression on his face was priceless.

"Don't believe me? I´ll show you a fucking contract. Don't do anything funny or you will regret it."

He dropped Rashi on the floor; the surprise on the kobol´s features quickly gave in to pain as he landed unceremoniously on his rear end against the rough stone.

Let's see if what you said earlier is true...if not I will smack your head against the pavement so hard you will meet the clear sky.

"This, Is a contract."

Dago presented his left arm, and rolled up the short sleeve of his shirt up to the shoulder.

The scripture covered his arm form shoulder to elbow, emanating a faint blue glow over the mixture of black, light brown and white that his fur had, it seemed carved over his flesh, as if it had been cauterized with a delicate and merciless tool, the sigils were tightly arranged in a spiraling patter that wrapped around his arm like the dye motifs that humans used to decorate their skin some times.

The process involved had been very, very painful.

"Believe me, whatever you signed; it's just on that paper."

Rashi gawked, and then his face went from different emotions in the span of a second, from anger to embarrassment, from embarrassment to relief, and from relief to: "How could I be so stupid?"

"...fuck."

 "Fuck indeed, and just in case you still have the tiniest sliver of a doubt, do you seriously think that they wouldn't have done something to keep your mouth shut? You got carried away so much you singed like bird with a stick up its ass...or a sword pommel, in this case."

Dago offered his hand, smirking from ear to ear.

"Get up, buddy, I have a profitable offering for you, and a round of ale to smooth things out. Name´s Dago Malginn, nice to meet you."