Judge&Jury [LitRPG Satire] Chapter 6 (Patreon)

“Is it going to come back soon?” Slip asked, squinting at the last splotches of pink in the night sky.

“Tomorrow, if we’re lucky,” the man replied. “If not, it’ll happen eventually. The sun and clouds are always a constant, my friend. It’s not a question of if, but when.”

Slip finally tore his gaze away from the darkening clouds and looked out at the village. He suppressed a yawn.

“Do you know where I could find a place to stay the night?” Slip asked, adjusting his grip on the book.

“For someone as well dressed as you?” the man asked, giving him a gap toothed grin. “I know just the place. We don’t get many kobolds through here, but most people have stopped caring about your species. We were all on the same side when we fought against the Dark Lord.”

The man rose with a tired grunt. He picked up the stool that he’d been sitting on and ambled into the city. Slip followed after him, his sword rattling over the ground as dirt changed to cobblestone.

Slip wanted to glance around the city, but every time he took his gaze away from the man, he fell farther back. He resolved to get a closer look the following morning and just focused on keeping up with his new friend.

The man led him down a few large streets, stopping in front of a several story house made of wood. Warm golden light spilled out from the large windows, and the door was propped open.

“They’ll give you a good price,” the man promised.

“Thank you!” Slip said. He gave his nameless companion a grin that might have looked more like a snarl, then entered the building.

A dull chatter greeted Slip as the kobold shut the door behind him. It was muted further by his hat, which still covered his ears. The room was full of men and women, most of whom were sitting at tables and eating dishes that Slip didn’t recognize.

There was a stairwell at the back side of the room, and a colorfully dressed man stood in the corner of the room, singing loudly and strumming an instrument.

“Can I help you, sir?” a female voice came from his side.

A tall woman in a light blue skirt and white apron beamed down at Slip. He returned the grin, baring his teeth.

“I would like to sleep here,” Slip declared.

“Of course, sir. Rooms are five copper a night.”

Slip blinked. Then his eyes lit up.

“I’m a judge.”

“…still five copper a night, sir.”

“…huh.”

Slip propped his sword against the wall and pulled out his book, flipping it open to the first page, which was blank again.

“You said the rooms were free,” Slip accused it.

They are. Did you tell her you were a judge?

“You heard me, didn’t you?” Slip asked, crossing his arms. Several people including the waitress watched the kobold with bemused expressions as he argued with a book.

This is most abnormal. Judges are provided free housing! It’s part of the contract.

Slip turned the book so that the waitress could see it and pointed at the line of text. She shook her head helplessly.

“I’m sorry,” she said, suppressing a smile. “I’ve been working here for several years, and the only time we’ve allowed people to stay for free was soldiers during the war with the Dark Lord.”

“I see,” Slip said, frowning. “Does anyone want to buy a magical, lying book?”

Absolutely not. You must not sell me. This inn must simply not follow the laws of the Great One. I am invaluable!

Nobody moved to take Slip up on his offer. The kobold let out a heavy sigh.

“Do you have any talents, perhaps?” the waitress asked, taking pity on the disappointed kobold. “We’re not opposed to letting people work for their stay.”

“I’m quite good at breaking dishes,” Slip said. “The chef in my cave system said I held the record for breaking the most dishes in a single day.”

“I think we might keep you out of our kitchen, then,” the waitress said with a pained grimace.

“How’d you break the dishes?” someone in the gathering crowd asked.

“Well, we were having a banquet,” Slip said. “I was supposed to wash the dishes, and they gave me a drying wand to use. I couldn’t get it to work right, so I walked into the main room to see if it was out of power. I hooked it into an enchanted heating source and accidentally overloaded the wand, which knocked all the dishes off the table along with all the food.”

A few chuckles rose up from the crowd.

“Is that why you’re here?” the waitress asked, her eyes widening. “Did they kick you out?”

“No. Yes,” Slip said. “I didn’t get kicked out for that. They needed someone to clean the broken dishes.”

More chuckles came from the onlookers.

“So… if you don’t mind saying, why did you get kicked out?”

“I couldn’t get a job,” Slip said, frowning. Then his eyes lit up and he shrugged. “But it’s okay. I became a judge because they gave me a book.”

“I see,” the waitress said. “Well, what’s your name? I’m Maranda.”

“Slip.”

“Welcome to Hosvill, Slip. I’ve never actually heard of a judge,” Maranda said, giving him a comforting smile. “What exactly do you do? Maybe we could find some use for your talents.”

Slip looked down at the book expectantly.

You settle disputes and territorial issues.

“I settle big brutes and terry-torryal issues,” Slip read. “Wait, no. Disputes, not big brutes.”

“Ha! If such a job existed, we’re in dire need of it,” A man in the crowd said, laughing. “Can’t you see, Maranda? This one is a jokester. He’s no different than Wallace over there, except this one’s tunes are stories, while our resident bard deals in broken notes instead.”

“Hey!” Wallace yelled, pausing his plucking of the loud instrument to flip the man off.