The rain was gone on the third day of guarding. Koyl and I stood outside the building again, watching the people passing by without much incident. The suspicious man who I had seen did pass by once but didn't bother to look in our direction. Lunchtime came around and, like always, we ate as quickly as possible before getting back to “work”. Koyl's boredom was only growing with time, and he had begun trying to light small chips of wood near him on fire with magic. I watched when I knew he wasn't looking, studying his technique. He's not very good, I concluded.
“Agh!” Koyl groaned loudly, “I can't stand this anymore.” I expected Thaajh to come out and berate him, but instead nothing much happened and I was left standing silent for half a minute. “What, you afraid of that one-handed npoyt in the office?” Koyl asked. I really should come up with a suitable translation for npoyt, I thought, it seems very flexible like most English slurs, and is only applied to men from what I can tell. Maybe “dick” would fit?
“I am highly boredom-tolerant,” I replied. As much as I was outwardly fine, internally even I was beginning to suffer from the lack of action. Most guard duty I had done in the past at least involved more than standing in a single place doing nothing for many hours. Processing inbound and outbound traffic, spotting and reporting wildlife, suppression fire against enemy positions, something besides the monotony I currently faced. It wasn't as though I couldn't endure it, but I felt my attentiveness waning, a dangerous thing for a guard.
“You're highly tolerant to just about everything,” Koyl muttered, “makes me wonder if you have a brain in your head or just a bunch of emptiness.” In response, I rapped my knuckles against my head.
“Sounds full to me,” I replied. I had been studying small talk for a while and decided that it would be good to practice it. Koyl looked at me, then laughed lightly.
“Was that a joke?” he asked. “Or... an attempt at one? You can tell jokes?”
“What made you think that I couldn't tell jokes?” I asked. The question in itself was a joke, at least I thought so. I was aware of how my reserved mannerisms clashed with the typical humans in the area after having interacted with them for so long.
“Okay funny guy, tell me a joke then,” Koyl challenged. I racked my brain for content, trying to figure out some kind of witty remark that a human would find amusing. This is harder than I thought it would be, I sighed.
“A man is walking through the forest when he encounters a bear,” I began. “The bear stops him and demands that the man surrender his weaponry to him. The man, confused that the bear can speak, drops his spear and knife on the ground for the bear. He asks the bear 'Why do you want them? It isn't like you can use them.' The bear looks at him and replies 'It's easier to eat you when you don't have any weapons in your hands.'” I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but Koyl's pity laugh wasn't it.
“Does that joke work better in Gwahlaob?” Koyl mocked. “Do they even have bears in Yahn Gwah?”
“I wouldn't know,” I replied, “never been there before.” That, oddly, got a laugh out of Koyl. Maybe their sense of humor isn't what I thought it was, I shrugged. Warbreed told jokes at times, but they usually just ended with someone being shot.
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After the "joke", Thaajh came out to stop us from talking, so Koyl and I stayed quiet for another hour while we stood guard. Then a man wearing a hooded cloak came out from the crowd of passersby and began walking toward us. Koyl and I both glanced at each other, then watched him approach us and try to pass. I held my arm out in his way, ready to grab him if he tried to enter without my permission. The man looked over to me, showing his nondescript blonde-haired red-eyed face, and narrowed his eyes.
“What?” he snapped.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I'm here to post a job,” he said, “let me in.” I looked at the man's cloak and tried to check him for weaponry visually, but failed.
“I'm going to need to check you before you enter,” I said. The man snorted at me as if he couldn't believe what I was saying, then tried to push past my arm. Using my other arm I grabbed the back of his cloak and held him in place. “Not optional,” I warned, “you will allow it, or you can leave.”
“None of the other guards said anything about any weapons check,” he protested. I didn't say it was a weapons check, I noted. Koyl had now stepped in and was moving the man away from the door, allowing me to lower my arm.
“Just wait a few seconds buddy,” Koyl said, “my friend here won't hold you up for long, right?” He looked to me and I gave him a look of affirmation.
“Remove your cloak,” I instructed, and the man pulled off the article of clothing. Underneath he was wearing farm wear, a simple tunic with suspended leather pants. I approached him and began to pat him down, raising up his arms as needed to check the various positions where humans like to hide weaponry. When I got to his waist I felt an item in his pocket, reached in, and pulled out a metal flask. I unscrewed it and smelled the contents. Alcohol, I knew instantly, mostly or totally ethanol.
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“That's mine,” the man snapped, “you stealing from me?”
“Koyl, does this seem suspicious to you?” I asked, handing him the flask. Koyl looked at it, then smelled it and recoiled.
“Don't tell me you drink this,” he hissed as he passed the flask back to me. I knew that humans sometimes consumed alcohol, or at least they did before warbreed humans were created, but I hadn't paid much attention to the context in which it was done.
“Yeah we do,” the man said. “The drink's for farmhands, doesn't spoil in the heat and it keeps the flask clean. If you drink too much of it you get lightheaded for a bit though.” Not drunk? I thought, Maybe the healing ability detects drunkenness as damage? Drunkenness was yet another thing that I knew the definition and meaning of but had no real-world experience with. If that's the case then this kind of drink might well be used for long-term storage, I concluded.
“Okay,” I replied and handed the man his flask back. Much to his dismay, I continued checking him, and the looks I got from both him and Koyl when I reached the groin told me to hurry up because I was pushing my luck. The only other item on the man was a simple knife in a leg holster much like my own. I figured it probably wouldn't be an issue to Thaajh, so I said nothing. “You can go in,” I declared, then I walked to the door and opened it.
“What?” Thaajh barked from behind the desk.
“Someone is here to post a job,” I said, “he has a single small knife and a flask of liquid for drinking.” The man walked past me and waved to Thaajh, who waved back.
“You didn't give him trouble, did you?” Thaajh asked angrily. The man gestured with his hands to indicate that it was fine, so I closed the door and got back into my guarding position. Thaajh and the man talked inside, their voices muffled by the walls, before going upstairs to the second floor.
“Why did you grab at his tpawth?” Koyl snickered. I hadn't heard the word he used before but I knew what he meant.
“People hide weapons there,” I said simply, “they rely on your own unwillingness to check the area to sneak things past you. In cases like this, where there is an active threat, it's always best to check.” Koyl looked at me for a moment, then grunted in the affirmative. His expression was one of mild surprise.
“That's smart,” he said, “I hadn't thought of that.”
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“Do you smell something burning?” Koyl asked suddenly. It had been around fifteen minutes since the man had arrived to see Thaajh. During that time I heard their conversation grow louder, but not violent, before dying down to inaudibility as they descended back to the first floor. The man still hadn't emerged from the door that Koyl and I were guarding so it was safe to say he was likely still inside. I sniffed the air, trying to parse the mess of scents. Vehrehr still smelled like a cesspit to me, but I had grown so used to its foul stench that I didn't notice it much unless I was paying attention.
“Yes,” I replied, “perhaps someone is cooking.”
As if to counter my suggestion a wisp of smoke flittered up past my eyes, and I was instantly alert as I turned around to the door. Silky white vapor was emerging from the top and bottom of the frame, gently flowing out like it was weightless. Koyl had also turned around and looked at me with wide eyes. After a brief hesitation, I opened the door and saw an empty front office filled with smoke, and the middle back door ajar.
“Shit,” Koyl swore. We both rushed inside, to figure out what was going on. I opened the door to the stairwell only to be pushed back by flames roaring out at me, lighting both the door and the nearby wall on fire. “Are you okay?” Koyl yelled. Just from his body language, I could tell he was in a state of panic, but his voice carried the emotion even more clearly.
“Fine,” I replied, “we can't go up, you wait here while I check the back, and get out if it starts to come down on you.” Best not to put him in too much danger or he might freak out, I thought. The humans of the island were sometimes remarkably psychologically delicate as I had come to find out. Koyl nodded and I moved past him briskly, walking into the storage room and looking around in the darkness. The smoke in the air made it difficult to see anything, but it seemed to be the same disaster of half-sorted trash as before. I was about to turn around and exit when I heard a smashing noise from the backyard.
I rushed across the storage room and burst through the back door, exiting into the training ground to a grisly sight. Thaajh was unconscious, nailed to one of the dummies through both of his shoulders and his abdomen, and covered in blood. The back-middle barrier which had been set up to keep people from entering the yard was smashed and was in pieces on the ground, exposing a thin alleyway that curved off to the right. Wait, those aren't nails, I realized as I looked Thaajh over again. The two pieces of metal attaching Thaajh's shoulders to the dummy were his own knives, and the piece in his abdomen was a simple utility knife like mine, likely not long enough to have pierced through him.
“Oh shit oh shit,” Koyl panicked behind me. I looked back just in time to see him rush to Thaajh. He tried to pull out one of the knives, then stopped and slapped Thaajh in the face to try to get a reaction.
“Stay here,” I told him again, “I'm going to search the alley.” I pointed, Koyl followed my finger, then nodded. With a new burst of energy, I broke into a run, vaulting over the broken wood and into the dark alley. After the right curve, it split into two paths, one which doubled back and likely lead out near the front of the office and one which went deeper. I don't think he knew I heard him, I thought, he wouldn't go out near the front. Making my choice, I went deeper into the alleys and hoped for the best.
A minute later I popped out into a street that I didn't recognize, with dense foot traffic going both ways. Wait that's him, I thought as I saw a man with a cloak duck around a corner in the distance. I moved to follow but quickly stopped when I saw two more men in cloaks in the street. Looking behind me revealed four more, all watching me. Their faces, scarred and angry, peeked out from under cloaks of their own while their hidden arms clearly sat atop weapons. Enemy territory, I thought, I should get out of here until I have some sort of plan.