Judge&Jury [LitRPG Satire] - Chapter 2 (Patreon)

A thin layer of dust rested on the door’s handle. It was made of what might have once been sturdy wood, but was now cracked and showing the beginnings of decay.

Gramps twisted the handle and pushed the door open. A rush of stale air rushed out, causing both of them to grimace. It was pitch black behind the door. The elder kobold wiped the dust off his hand onto his robe and grabbed a light-cage from the wall.

They stepped inside the room, the dim light of the lantern illuminating dozens of wooden shelves. They were packed tight with scrolls and books, most of which were likely much older than Slip. Paper and damaged book covers covered the floor, crinkling under their feet with every step.

A wooden table sat isolated at the center of the room. The shelves near it had been shoved to the side, and the paper below it was stained a dark brown. A trail of the stains traveled off to the side of the room before disappearing.

On top of the table rested a large book. It was bound with metal, and the body of the cover seemed to be some sort of sturdy leather. A cylindrical black hat with a straight rim was perched atop it.

“What is this?” Slip asked, sneezing as he inhaled some of the dust.

“Your job,” Gramps said, but he didn’t sound particularly convinced. The old kobold gestured towards the book and hat on the table. “A travelling judge.”

“What in the eight worlds is that?” Slip asked. “That’s not a job. I’d know – I had to go through those classes about the world’s professions, just like everyone else did. That isn’t a kobold’s profession. I don’t even think that profession exists!”

“You just missed it,” Gramps said dismissively.

“I – what? No, I didn’t,” Slip said, his voice growing more confident. “I wasn’t the best student, but it’s all we did for three years! I know all the normal professions, and this isn’t one of them.”

The elderly kobold turned; his gaze furious as he took a step towards Slip.

“You are clearly misunderstanding the situation,” he hissed. “You, a member of the Redfoot clan, have completely failed to be competent at a single thing! You have no talent. You have no intelligence. You have no strength. You have no magic. You are a disgrace. Yet still, you speak as if you are an equal.”

The pure venom in the kobold’s voice lashed out at Slip like a viper. He took a step backwards, towards the center of the room. Gramps matched his movement, forcing Slip back until his back bumped against the edge of the table.

“The only reason you are still alive is it would be more of an effort to kill you than leave you alive,” Gramps said. The kobold’s eyes bugged slightly out of his head and he pulled his lips back to bear his small fangs. “This is your way out if you have even a shred of honor left in you. Stop being a burden on the clan and leave.”

Slip glanced back at the table, where the hat and book seemed to patiently await his decision. He wiped the elder kobold’s spit from his face, forcing his emotions down. He would not give them the pleasure of a reaction.

“If you hated me this much, you should have said earlier,” Slip said, proud that his words only quavered slightly. “I would have saved you the trouble and left earlier. Trust me, I’ve got no love for this worthless cave.”

Gramps didn’t grace him with a response. Slip considered storming out of the caves without even taking the useless hat and book, but that was pointless. At the very least, he could sell them to someone for a small meal.

The young kobold grabbed the hat and pulled it over his head. It muted his hearing, but he didn’t care. He snatched the book and strode out of the room, his oversized sword carving a line through the paper behind him.

Nobody stopped Slip as he left. The caves were largely empty – most of the other kobolds were busy celebrating the Choosing Day, and the ones that weren’t were hard at work. His sword echoed his angry feelings, screeching across the floor loudly.

He was familiar with the tunnels, but only rarely had he been near the entrance of the caves. It took several minutes to reach the exit. Two heavily armored kobolds bearing appropriately sized halberds stood on either side of the thick iron door that led outside.

The kobold on the left caught sight of Slip before his partner. He barely held back a laugh at the sight of the enormous hat perched on his head. The other one was less polite, bursting into laughter when he spotted the young kobold.

“I’m leaving,” Slip growled.

“A little eager, I think,” the left guard chuckled. “You may leave tomorrow, after we’re updated with those who took part in the Choosing Day.”

“Not this time,” Gramps said from behind Slip, nearly causing him to leap into the air in surprise. The hat had muted his hearing so much that he hadn’t heard the old kobold following him. “He has my permission to leave immediately.”

“Elder! I didn’t see you there,” the first guard said, inclining his head respectfully. “If you say so, then it shall be.”

The second guard shoved his back against the door and strained, his leg muscles tensing as he pushed against the iron. The other kobold joined him. With a long creak, the door started to swing outwards. Brilliant yellow light burst through the crack in the door, nearly blinding Slip. He raised a hand in front of his eyes and grimaced in pain.

“Bright, isn’t it?” one guard asked. “That’s called the sun. It’s this bright for half of the day!”

“I know what the Sun is,” Slip snapped, but awe took over his anger for an instant. “I just didn’t think it was that bright.”