"What are you talking about? Why would the cops--guard be after us?" I protest, dropping the second bag onto the bed which the troll has medicine ball pitched into my chest. I'm instantly transported back to high school P.E. with that prick David Delonzo constantly singling me out while playing dodgeball. Of course back then I didn't have the cut pecs and washboard abs, so I doubt that tomorrow I'd be a walking bruise like I had been back then.

Between poking his head out the door to look up and down the hallway, and volleying our belongings to us, Crod manages to gives a shrug of his muscular shoulders. "I dunno but it's got something to do with her." Crod says, pointing an accusing claw at Kryst.

"Me?" Kryst eyes widen.

"What did you do?" I huff shooting an annoyed glare toward the fairy, "Did you get in some sort of trouble last night in your drunken stupor?"

"Hold up you're taking his side? Unless drinking a few sailors under the table is illegal then I've done nothing wrong. It's you two who damn near broke the laws of nature!" Kryst buzzes angrily pointing between Cinnamon and I.

"Umm... well, no. That's not..." Cinnamon starts.

"Quiet, Carrots. Grown-ups are talking." Kryst scoffs.

"Hey, don't go getting an attitude with her, you hot mess."

We begin to launch into an argument, even Cinnamon adding in her objections, though her cute, meek voice is all but drowned out as Krysts and mine raise.

"Hey?! Shuddap!" Crod bellows, immediately silencing all of our bickering.

"It's got nothing to do with anything that you may have done last night." He shakes the mane of hair about his shoulders in a motion that reminds me of a wet dog attempting to dry themselves. "Look we ain't got time for all of this. You remember Arve, right? The guard at the gate."

"Yeah, I think so." I say, crinkling my brow.

"Good. Alright, well Arve works an evening and dark hour shift, see? So a few hours ago he swings by the Drunken Wizard. I was in the back cleaning up in a game of Kings Crown Flush." Crod pauses and with a monster grin reaches down to pat his bulging coin purse. "Real quick aside, highlight of the night? Bluffed a retreat from a Knights phalanx with a pair of Paupers."

A pregnant pause fills the room while the troll grins at us with that hideous smile of his.

"Crod, man! What does that have to--" I spread my arms wide.

"Yeah! Right, right." Crod waves a hand dismissively, "Okay, anyway so Arve comes by and he tells me when he turned in his report and mentioned that he tagged a Gleam, he was pulled before the Roots and questioned."

"The Roots?" Kryst and I ask in near unison.

"The Roots are the guards elite." Crod says.

"Like a S.W.A.T. team?" I ask.

"I suppose." Crod scratches his chin in thought. "Nah. That's more the guard who are the general peacekeepers. They're the ones that will give you a good swat or smack down and an arrest. The Roots report to the council and are the ones usually responsible for digging up, uncovering and destroying any illegal organized underground activity.

"Humm, guess it's kind of a play on words." He mumbles, "Anyway they are expertly trained in both weapons and infiltration, and they use 'em to worm their way in and collect information so they can cut out the criminal element. So, less of swat and more of a slice team I'd say." He punctuates the statement with a slashing motion of his claws.

"That's not what I..." I'm about to clarify but close my mouth. Crod may not have understood what I meant, but he answered the question in a way that put these 'Roots' into perspective for me. "Sorry, go on."

Crod nods. "Now, Arves good people. He told them that you all came in through the gates with me, that you were friends of mine. But he didn't know where we were staying or anything like that. Anyway, he is a mate and all, so he wanted to give me a heads up. Make sure I knew that I might be bought in for questioning."

"And you are sure they were interested in Kryst? I mean, isn't your... umm, Pop-pop on the council or something? " I ask turning toward Cinnamon.

Crod shakes his head, "Couldn't be anything to do with my little Butter Bunny. Arve didn't know who you were, and I didn't mention it to him either. He said the questions concerning you two were minimal, they we're mostly just interested in the Gleam."

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"I'm sure if we talked with Pop-pop he could straighten all of this out." Cinnanmon offers.

"Maybe." Crod muses, "He'd be at the Silverstone Citadel. But if you are planning to head over there is no question that you would be detained."

"Okay, but, what if there is nothing wrong?" Cinnamons tail does a double twitch, "Couldn't it be that they just want to talk to Kryst? To find out why the Redtree is sick?"

"Cinni does have a valid point." I say.

Kryst snorts. "Sure. That could be true. But if they have they been rounding up and ridding the city of all the fairys it stands to reason that perhaps they want to try and take me out too."

"Well, I say, let 'em come." Kryst slips on her gauntlets and bangs her tiny fists together with a ring of metal and an aggressive glower. "I'll give them a taste that'll make them wish their daddys had pulled out."

"Alright, at ease there, soldier." I make a settle down motion to the fairy. "Let's not jump to conclusions. Whatever way we go I think getting into any fisticuffs with the guard is a bad idea." Never mind the a fact that they'd just be doing their job but I'd seen enough real life cop episodes to know that you don't win in a fight with any sort of organized police force. Sure you may put up a struggle. Even take a down a few, but they will just call for more. And, even if this is some sort of rules based game world, I don't feel like some max leveled character that can just walk through a city with no fear of low level mobs.

"Alright then, what do you think we should do?" Kryst grumps.

"I might be able to help with that." Crod holds up his hand, "I've asked Plogz, one of the buddies I play cards with, to go make some arrangements in Cragcliff. That's the Goblin quarter over there under the Airship docks." Crod turns to me, "He's also the fellah in the G.U. I was going to introduce you to, Brian."

"What does he has some sort of pull with the poli-- eer... guard?" I ask.

"No, not like that. I've just asked him to do me a favor and to keep you guys out of sight for a bit and away from guard attention. For a day or so at least."

"Is he trustworthy?" I ask, unsure how I feel about putting our lives in the hands of a bunch of Goblins.

"Oh, yeah. Almost too much." Crod chuckles, "Makes him awful at cards but a solid all 'round guy."

I run my fingers through my hair in thought. We could go straight to the guard, that would be the most direct route to figuring out what was going on. After all, it could be like Cinnamon said and be something completely benign. But what if it wasn't? We could just as easily be arrested. Being thrown into a dungeon definately wasn't high on my current to-do list.

"I think we need a bit more time." I say.

"That's something that we don't have." Kryst says pointing out the window and we all hurry over to peer outside.

A few of the locals, already out in force, working to clear the overnight buildup of leaves, step aside as five cityguard round a cluster of building at the end of the block.

Four are wearing the same red leather uniforms that I'd observed at the gate, however, it's the person positioned at their center that grabs my attention,.

Clad in a red, black and silver the figure strides down the street with an air of authority. A cloak draped over the right shoulder and arm, connected via a length of chain to a single enormous pauldron worn on the opposite side. The silver breastplate is polished to a mirror shine, matching the helmet, gauntlets, greaves and boots.

A long sword and dagger are worn openly on the left hip, but more concerning is when, brushing their cloak aside to step around a small mound of leaves, I spot a holster and the handle to a large pistol that had previously been hidden from view.

I focus my attention on the knight like helm, in an attempt to catch the face beneath and though I should be able to see their eyes and mouth through the T-shaped opening at the very least, there seems to be nothing there. Just an inky all consuming blackness.

"Brian?' Cinnamon questions timidly, "What should we do?"

I glance between each of my companions, as they look to me expectantly. My heartbeat racing with apprehension while I mull over the choices. The guards pause to question a few locals then start onward again drawing closer to the inn.

"Let's do like Crod suggested." Snatching up the bags I sling them about my shoulders. "We head down to the docks and find this... Plogz?"

Crod nods his affirmation, "Yeah, go to Seaview Park, that's the one down by the northern sky crane. Across from the piers. Look for a goblin with a gimpy leg and a cane."

"You're not coming with us, Icky?" Cinnamon asks, concern in her voice.

The troll shakes his head, "There's only a score or so of us trolls who live and work in the city, and as the Council appointed Twinwater Bridge caretaker and toll collector," he says rubbing his belly and wobbling his head with pride, "people around here know me. If I head out with you it won't be long before the guard are pointed your direction."

"You sure, Crod?" I ask.

"Don't worry. I'll just tell them that I came by here to show you around town but you had all already left for the day. I'll be fine." Crod chuckles.

"Alright." I strap on my gun belt and glance out the window watching the guard draw closer. "Might work out better anyway. This way you can tell them who Cinnamon is. Maybe sort this whole situation out by letting her Pop-pop know. I figure you'd have a better chance to get word to him, anyway. Seeing as you hold a council appointed position and all."

"That's true." Crod beams, "I can do that."

"Thanks, man." I slap him on the shoulder and the troll grins his, growing slightly less scary to me now, monster smile before he turns and heads out the door to clomp down the hallway.

After locking the door move back to the window and see the guards disappear out of sight, heading under the eve of the inn.

"They should be coming in about now."I say, "You two ready?"

The girls nod in tandem and I motion toward the window.

Cinnamon slips out first, and with Olympic level acrobatic prowess hurdles upward, disappearing from sight. Kryst follows suit, pausing just long enough to grab a grape from our breakfast plate, cradling it under her arm like a football.

At the edge of the window I turn and give a final glance about the empty room and pray that the choice to run and hide isn't a colossal mistake.