Yan readjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and carried on walking through the busy streets of Upartesk. Thankfully they’d given him his sack of oats back. Along with a tentative job offer.

  Recruit.

  It wasn’t much, and it depended on what they thought of his side projects. But it included a tiny little room of his own in the Watch House, and he’d be paid. He shuffled past the crowd, taking care to avoid accidentally kicking a group of dwarf miners.

  He got to the Watch House and took a deep breath before opening the door and walking in. He never really realised it when he’d left the other day, but the small corridor that connected the outer doors to the inner entrance doors looked suspiciously smaller on the inside. A quick glance along the walls and he knew the reason why. Eager to get out of the tiny little kill zone, he carried on in.

  Chaos.

  Complete and utter chaos. At the desk, a lizardwoman was furiously arguing with a human who looked like he’d had three different cans of paint upended over him. He could see Debby in the canteen laughing with a few officers, while the desks in the main office area were full of officers talking with various citizens. At one, A dwarf was stroking his beard looking quite confused, while at another a troll Watchman was slowly thinking through his sentences with a terrified old woman. It was a melting pot of noise.

  Yan made his way over to Emery’s office and gave it a few hard knocks, eager to get away from the ruckus.

  “Come in,” came Emery’s voice through the door.

  “Ah, Yan, it’s good to see you,” he said, “come and have a seat. How can I help you?”

  “I, uh, I came in with my projects. You said you wanted to have a look at them?” Emery looked up from the paper he’d been concentrating on.

  “Sure. You do know the offer wasn’t conditional on you showing me all this, don’t you?”

  Yan internally unclenched. He struggled to sleep last night because he couldn’t stop thinking about all his little projects.

  “Ha, I can see from your expression you didn’t,” said Emery, “There’s no need to worry. I’ll get you signed on and someone’ll walk you through the job.”

  “Seriously, that quickly?” asked Yan, a little surprised at how easy this whole getting-a-job thing was.

  “To be honest with you Yan, we’re understaffed. This is the only Watch House in Upartesk. The good folk sitting on The Seat decided, in their infinite wisdom, that there’s not that much need for Watchmen.” Emery sighed and got up, walking over to the window by Yan where they both looked out into the bullpen.

  “We’ve expanded a lot recently as it is. If you came looking for a job a year ago, we’d have laughed in your face. Back then there was only the Captain, me… and a few others.”. He shook his head as if to forget.

  “Anyway, there’s been a lot of rapid expansion recently so I guess you could say that you’re just riding on those coattails. Come with me, I’ll get Seema to sign you on and then introduce you to your new partner.”

  Yan threw his sack over his shoulder and walked in Emery’s sizeable shadow out of the office and to the front desk. He couldn’t help but notice how the noise level decreased noticeably as soon as they were out of his office. Even the troll lowered his voice, so it sounded like rocks cracking when he spoke instead of the avalanche of boulders that he spoke in earlier.

  “Miss Lanse,” said Emery, “got time for our newest addition?”

  “Oooh he’s cute,” said Lanse, her thin tongue flitting out as she spoke. Yan couldn’t help but blush. She looked the same age as him, but it was hard to tell with scales.

  “Don’t worry Sergeant, I’ll take care of him,” she said. The makeup that Lizardpeople used was completely different to Human and dwarf makeup: The eyeshadow she had on was practically gloss paint and her deep red lipstick shone against her green-brown scales.

  “H-hey Miss Lanse,” stuttered Yan, very aware of the fact that he’d been staring. Seema doubled down and winked at him.

  “That’s Sel to you, Mr…?”

  “Uh Yan. Yan Orukan.”

  “Mr. Orukan. I mean technically it’s Selios but that just makes me sound sooo old. Only the Sergeant and my grandmother call me Lanse. Of course, my grandmother calls everyone in the family Lanse until the person she wants, answers. It does get a bit tedious but we all—”

  “Thank you, Miss Lanse. Just get all of Yan’s information down in the register will you. Umm, what else. Oh, he’ll need a set of all regulation gear so—”

  “Don’t worry Sergeant, he’s in good hands. Don’t let us stop you from those damn reports,” she said sweetly. Emery started towards his office, but like a scared child being told to go and check his wardrobe in the middle of the night, he turned back and grasped at straws.

  “Oh, one more thing. He’ll be staying in the Watch House. So make sure he gets settled in upstairs. Hmm… Let’s say Murderhole Room? I know the Square Room is bigger but I’m pretty sure that’s where Himura keeps all her magic stuff.”

  “Uhm,” Yan felt like he had to intervene after hearing where they planned on sending him, “Murderhole Room?”

  “Oh don’t worry about that,” Sel said, swatting her hand against his arm, “It’s just called that because it’s directly above the entryway. Our front entrance had some lovely defence features installed after some weird cult didn’t like us snooping around.”

  “Wait, are you talking about those Hospital of Reflection weirdos?” Yan asked. He remembered hearing about it from one of the boys at home. A group of people had got to talking and decided that the Hospitals in Upartesk didn’t need medicine and treatments, but a strong talking to so that they’d see how begging for forgiveness from their leader would heal them of all their ailments. They kind of lost their argument when their leader died from a chronic case of accidentally falling out of a third-floor window.

  “Yeah, they stormed the place way too easily. Now people think twice before trying to cave our skulls in,” said Sel.

  “Right,” sighed Emery, “You know what they say, no rest for the wicked. I guess I’ll get back to work.”

  “Come on then handsome, let’s show you your new room,” said Sel, getting up from her desk. Yan couldn’t help but notice the chair she’d been using had a cut out for her little tail. He glanced a look at Sel’s and was surprised to see that hers quite long compared to some of the other lizardpeople tails he’d seen before. It wasn’t like a small whip, falling to the back of her exposed knees and swaying a little as she moved towards the stairs, the small spade-like end turning and rubbing her thigh.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Like what you see?” she asked, an eyebrow raised. Yan went bright red.

  “S-sorry I was just—” Sel’s belly laugh stopped him from trying to dig his way out of that hole.

  “Oh you’re way too easy to get riled up,” she said once she’d caught her breath.

  “It’ll be sad to see you grow out of that. This place doesn’t really cater much for someone as green as you. Don’t worry, you look like you’ll take it all in your stride. I’m a good judge of character. Let’s introduce you to our lovely little team first though.”

  Yan wisely elected not to say anything, and just followed the whirlwind of energy that was Sel, towards the desks in the bullpen.

  “This here’s Constable Viktor von Durme, our resident Vampire,” she said, clasping her hands around someone who looked like they were in danger of snapping in two, “and also the guy who found you drooling onto your sack the other day.”

  “Please let go Sel,” said Viktor, wincing as if her hands on his shoulders actually hurt a lot.

  “Uh hello Constable,” Yan said, feeling sorry for the poor guy, “thanks for helping me out. No offence but you don’t really look like what I thought a Vampire would look like.”

  “Not Vampire, just vampire,” he said, adjusting the thick eyeglasses he was wearing, as if he could hear the capital in Yan’s intent, “it’s a race, not a Class. The Gods must have thought my people were much too powerful for classes. Isn’t it obvious, having a look at me?”

  “Oooh, in a mood today are we Viktor?” asked Sel, relenting and taking her hands off him.

  “Ahh you’re right, sorry about the malicious sarcasm Yan,” said Viktor, “to be honest it’s just that time of the month and goat blood just isn’t cutting it for me. I think I’m going to have to get some ape blood out of storage.”

  “Apparently the sapience of the animal matters,” Sel explained when she saw Yan’s puzzled face, “I think we should let Viktor focus though, he’s been looking into a string of burglaries down in the Meadows.”

  “Let’s see,” she said, “I know Terry and Ilda just went on patrol, so that leaves—”

  “Hendrik and Deborah are in the canteen,” said Viktor, his voice coming through muffled from how he’d rested his head on his arms on his desk.

  “To the canteen we go,” said Storm Sel.

  The sound of laughter cut through the air as Sel led Yan into the canteen. Debby was sat, spoon in hand, crying with laughter as a middle-aged blonde guy leant against a countertop, looking quite pleased with himself.

  “There’s no way you said that to the poor guy!” hooted Debby.

  “I did!” said Hendrik, defending his honour and his craft as the Watch’s in-house comedian, “I chased the Clown from the Jewellery Quarter all the way down to The Sentinel’s Seat, hit him with a Stun spell, and told him ‘Thanks for surrendering, I appreciate the jester’!”

  “Ohhh that’s terrible,” groaned Sel.

  “Oh, hey Yan!” said Debby, getting up and punching him in the shoulder, “thought about the Sergeant’s offer?”

  “Yeah I, uh, I guess I’m a Watchman now,” said Yan.

  “Now hold on just a minute,” said Hendrik, “accepting the job offer a Watchman makes you not, young man.”

  “Put a sock in it Dik,” said Sel, “leave Yan alone.”

  “Hey, its Hendrik, okay, not Hendik, not Dik, and definitely not Sergeant Dikhead.”

  “Tell that to your ID, Dik,” said Debby.

  “Listen here woman, is it my fault that my parents were illiteral? Who in their right minds calls their kid Hendik, it’s obvious what they meant.”

  “If I was your Mom I’d call you something a lot worse than Dik, Dik.”

  “Wow Sel. Now that’s just hurtful. Are you trying to make me cry?”

  “Don’t be silly, that’d be like trying to draw blood from a stone. Anyway, Hendrik, this is Yan Orukan. Yan, this is Sergeant Hendrik Visser. Don’t ask about the Sergeant bit, no one knows how, no one knows why.”

  “I mean that’s obvious, it’s because I’m better than all you plebes. Classes don’t lie.”

  “Right, well, uh, nice to meet you Sir,” said Yan, assuming that Hendrik was one of those people who didn’t do serious conversation.

  “I can see you’ve already met Debbs, so let’s go and find the last two you need to meet. Terry and Ilda you can meet later.”

  Yan followed Sel up the stairs, taking special care to keep his gazed fixed wholly and completely to his own shoes.

  “Erm, Sel,” he said, “if Emery and Henrik are both Sergeant’s, how come only Emery has his own office?”

  “Oh thank the Gods you asked me and not him. He’d probably give you some crap about being ‘a man of the people’."

  "Ugh,” she said, physically cringing, “I think I know him too well.”. She nodded at the door behind her.

  “That’s Evidence. Boring. Have you met the Captain yet?”

  “Nope, I actually thought he’d be the one to offer out jobs.”

  “Hmm well you’re not wrong. He used to… Well, you’ll see for yourself.”

  She knocked on the next door along the corridor and stepped in without waiting for an answer. Somehow Yan felt this was her way of showing respect, he couldn’t really see her knocking for Emery. Yan followed her in to see an elderly dwarf sat behind a solid oak desk, crescent glasses on the edge of his nose, his shirt sleeves rolled up, wispy white hair on his head tied back, beard in a complicated braid.

  Most of the walls were covered with framed newspaper clippings. Yan saw that all of them were of everyone but the Captain. A lot of them had Hendi—Hendrik’s and Emery’s faces.

  “Ah, you must be Yan,” said the Captain, “How are you finding the work?”

  “Uh I just accepted the job today, Sir,” said Yan respectfully.

  “Ha, I’m not deaf lad, despite appearances,” he looked over Yan with a critical eye, “smithy’s son, are you? You’ve got the arms for it.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  “Good lad. We’ll make a decent man out of you yet,” he glanced at Sel, “Uh now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a meeting with the Seat I should’ve been at forty minutes ago. I’d better make a move before Sel kicks me out of my own Watch House.”

  “Who, me?” said Sel, with an air of cloying sweetness, “I’d never Captain. Anyway, you know what Emery says about you trying to do his job. You haven’t got time for the little stuff.”

  “Ah yes that’s right,” he said in a defeated tone, “I’m a Watchman just in name now. Damn Harvaldson, I’m telling you he gets a kick out of seeing me suffer in those meetings.”

  “Be that as it may Captain, off you go.”

  He got up, grabbed the cane that was leaning against his desk, and strode off, grumbling under his breath, leaving Yan and Sel in his office.

  “Don’t mind the Captain,” she said once he was out of earshot, “he just misses being able to do actual work. I think if you gave him the choice, he’d put Emery up here and give himself a desk in the bullpen.”

  “He seems nice,” said Yan, “I don’t envy him though. I don’t think I’ve ever been past Palmer’s Wall, let alone seen anyone from the Seat. I heard the Seat for [Army General] is an actual werewolf.”

  “Who, Francis?” asked Sel, bemused, “No way. The guy’s like, super quiet. He’s like Viktor-level timid. Anyway, one more stop now. Forensics. Let’s go and see Himura.”

  They left the Captain’s office and reached the end of the corridor. Sel was about to open the door but they both noticed a cloudy mist slowly leaking out of the bottom of the door.

  “Actually on second thought, let’s leave Himura to her work,” Sel shuddered and turned to Yan conspiratorially, “She gives me the creeps anyway. It’s wrong for someone to be that interested in the dead.”

  Sel walked off towards the stairs and turned left down another corridor. Yan, realising she expected him to keep up, half-jogged back up to her. The corridor opened up on one side, leaving just a railing that overlooked the bullpen and Sel’s desk downstairs. Hendrik was at his desk, and Yan was sure he could see Viktor in the canteen having what he hoped was a glass of wine. Sel stopped at the end of the corridor and turned to him.

  “Right so this is the Square Room,” she said, “It’s basically just Himura’s storeroom at this point.”

  “Is she a [Mage] or something?”

  “Technically, she’s a [Forensic Alchemist],” Sel giggled, “You should have seen how angry she was the first day she got her Class changed. She was so mortified she didn’t tell anyone. We all knew something was up when she stopped talking down to the [Alchemist] we used to rely on.”. She moved to the next door and opened it up.

  “This here is Murderhole Room. Your new digs now though, I guess.”

  Yan followed her in and stopped before he hit his head on the sloped ceiling. He could have stood in the middle of the room and touched two walls with his palms quite easily. It was about two paces by five, with a single bed under the far end of the sloped ceiling, a stool next to it, and a small closet built right opposite the door.

  “It’s really not much at all, I’ll be honest. I’ve seen the Captain use it to nap in sometimes when work’s been tense. Of course, he’s like four foot tall and you’re what, six?”

  “Six foot two,” said Yan distractedly, “I guess it’ll do, better than sleeping out on the streets right.”

  “If you say so.”