Judge&Jury [LitRPG Satire] - Chapter 3 (Patreon)

The young kobold stumbled out into the light, raising the book over his head to block out the harsh yellow rays beating down on him. Behind him, the doors ground shut with a bang. It took all of Slip’s strength not to look back at the cave.

He stumbled down the road, clutching the huge book in one hand and dragging his massive sword behind him with the other. The packed dirt twisted down into the distance, where a single signpost rested at a crossroads.

Slip trudged towards it, his scaled skin growing hotter and more uncomfortable with every step. He found himself thankful that the hat created at least some shadow for his face, although the majority of it stuck out from underneath it.

Several arduous minutes later, the kobold arrived before the sign. He tilted his head back and peered up at it.

“Well, that’s worthless,” Slip muttered. He couldn’t read any of the words. There were only three paths at the fork, with one of them being the one he’d just come down. “So, which one should I take?”

Both of the other two roads were composed of the same beaten orange-red dirt. He squinted at the horizon. The one on the right led off to a massive mountain range that would have thoroughly shocked Slip had he been in a better mood, while the one on the left finished in a cluster of shadowed shapes, too far away to gather details from.

Slip glanced between them. The sweltering sun and his parched lips reminded him that it was probably best to avoid taking too long on a decision.

The book in his hand shivered. Slip frowned. He was no librarian, but the kobold was quite certain that books weren’t meant to do that. The book shook again, showing complete contempt for the way things were meant to be.

Slip dropped the book on the ground and grabbed his sword with both hands, eying it carefully. If Gramps thought he’d get taken down by a sentient brick of paper, the old kobold was sorely mistaken.

The book flipped open of its own accord. Slip shrieked and dropped his sword, diving to the side and pulling his hat over his eyes.

Several moments passed. Then something nudged his leg. Slip slowly lifted the corner of the hat. The open book rested at his feet. It was completely black aside from a single line of script written across the top of the first page in fancy handwriting.

“Gr-greetings, Gudoo?” he read aloud.

The book twitched. The handwriting vanished. A black dot appeared on the paper and started writing again, this time with large block letters.

“Oh. Greetings, Judge,” Slip read. He blinked. “Wait. Are you a talking book?”

No. I’m a self-writing book.

The letters traced themselves into the page before fading away.

“Hold on, I wasn’t finished reading,” Slip said.

The book didn’t respond immediately. Then, begrudgingly, it wrote the last line out again. Slip stared at it for a few moments before nodding.

“That’s logical enough. I didn’t think Gramps would have given me a real magical book. Or… did I make you myself? Am I a powerful mage?”

No. I’m solar powered.

“Ah,” Slip said with a disappointed frown. “I haven’t heard that word before. Does that have something to do with the sun? And I get the feeling it means I didn’t make you.”

Correct. I gather energy from the sun. There was none within that cave system, so I went into hibernation. You did not make me.

“I don’t know what hibernation is either,” Slip said. “You’re very wordy. I guess that makes sense, since you’re a book.”

The pages rippled. If they had an expression, it would have been annoyed. The writing faded away once more before it was replaced by a new line.

I was asleep.

“Ah,” Slip said, nodding knowingly. “That makes much more sense. Say, you seem pretty knowledgeable. I’ve just been kicked out of my clan. Do you know where I can find a place to stay?”

Travelling judges have the right to remain in the rooms of any tavern, free of charge. You may remain there for no more than one week before paying.

“A human establishment?” Slip asked. His stomach rumbled. “Works for me. And… I’m a travelling judge?”

Correct. By picking me up and bringing me into the light, we have established a contract which makes you a traveling judge.

“That seems somewhat predatory,” Slip said, frowning. “What if I already had a job? Or if I’d just brought you outside for some fresh air?”

Did you?

“Well, no.”

Then you are a traveling judge.

“Fair enough,” Slip sighed. He adjusted the hat on his head and picked the book up, holding it open and starting down the path on the left. He dragged his large sword through the road behind him with his other hand. “At least I’ve got someone to talk to. It would have been lonely otherwise.”

Do you understand your duties? I can explain them to you if required.

“Please do,” Slip said. “I was actually planning on pawning you off for some silver in the first town, but I think having a job would be better.”

You are a judge. Your duty is to roam the lands and help all races and creatures settle their differences according to the law set down by the Great One.

“Sounds boring,” Slip said, grimacing.

You are paid a portion of the proceeds from every case you oversee. Judges are often incredibly wealthy so as to avoid the temptation of bribery.

“Fascinating. I’ve always wanted to be a judge,” Slip said, clearing his throat. “There’s one little problem, though. I have no clue who this Great One is, nor do I know his laws.”

That is why I am here. I have knowledge of every law the Great One wrote. I will provide them to you upon request.

“What if there’s no law for the situation?”

Unlikely. However, if that is the case, you may make your own law based off existing ones. If I approve it, the law will be enforced.

“Okay,” Slip said, a grin crossing his reptilian features. “Now I’m interested.”