Judge&Jury [LitRPG Satire] Chapter 7 (Patreon)

The room erupted in laughter again. The man who had spoken pushed through the crowd and dropped several coins into Maranda’s hand.

“Here. He’s more than earned his stay. I haven’t had a chuckle like that in a while,” the man said. “If it keeps Wallace from strumming that dreaded instrument, I’d pay a dozen times more.”

“Eat shit,” Wallace said, but the bard was grinning good naturedly.

“Hey, you should settle a dispute for us!” One of the men suggested. “Bennison snuck a sip of my beer yesterday. He owes me a replacement!”

Slip looked down at the book.

Not today. You need to sleep before you can really get any real use out of your new powers. You will experience significant negative side effects if you attempt anything now.

“The book says I need to sleep first,” Slip said. “I can do it when the solar comes up tomorrow.”

Sun.

“When the solar comes sun tomorrow,” Slip corrected, picking up the book up and snapping it shut before it could say anything else. The crowd let out a few groans, but everyone slowly dispersed.

“Well, I’ll lead you to your room then,” Maranda said, hiding a smile from the strange little monster.

He nodded and reached for the massive sword.

“Oh no you don’t”! Maranda said, grabbing it before he could. “You’re not dragging this thing through my polished wooden floors, you hear me?”

“Oh,” Slip said, frowning. “Sorry. I don’t want to leave it down here, though.”

“I’ll carry it for you,” Maranda said, hoisting the weapon over her shoulder effortlessly. She did a little twirl for the tavern, who cheered in response. Several of the men and a few of the women let out whistles.

Slip tilted his head, then let out a wheezing huff of air in his best impression of them.

“Does it mean you’re strong?” Slip asked.

“I suppose so,” Maranda said, giggling. “Come along. I’m sure you’re quite tired, so I won’t keep you from your bed.”

Slip nodded and she led him up the stairs. His room was the fourth one on the right of the hallway. Maranda opened it with a small metal key, then laid his sword out flat on the ground.

“Thank you,” Slip said, pulling his lips back in a grin.

“No problem. Have a good rest, Slip. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She handed him the key and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Slip glanced around his new room. The only decorations were a medium sized bed with two pillows on it, a small desk beside the window, and some sort of large brass bowl. It was the biggest room he’d ever had.

“Wow,” Slip said, setting the book on the ground and climbing into the bed, throwing his clothes off in the process. The sheets were rough and a little itchy, but they were better than the hay in his old room. He settled down on top of the sheets, his foggy mind growing hazier by the second. He was fast asleep within minutes.

As the kobold snored the night away, his body started to change. The neurons within his brain made new connections, forming complex structures and growing denser. The dull magical energy within his body shifted, traveling through his heart and pumping through his veins.  Murky black liquid started to seep out of his pores and mouth as his body was purged.

When Slip awoke the following morning, he was drowning. He jerked upright, hacking and coughing the black liquid out of his mouth. He drew a ragged gasp and looked around the room, slowly remembering his surroundings.

“What is this?” Slip asked, grimacing at the sludge covering him. He climbed out of bed, wiping himself down with the sheet.

He felt… different. It was hard to say exactly what had changed, but the world was sharper. Slip pulled his clothes on, setting his top hat aside and picking up the book in its place. He flipped it open.

“What happened to me?” Slip asked.

Your body was improved to fit the base needs of a judge. Some of your weaknesses have been purged.

“Huh. Thank you, I think,” Slip said, finding himself mildly surprised at the words. They came easier to him than they had before.

He glanced down at his hand, activating Eye of the Arbiter.

Slip Redfletcher

Race: Kobold

Job: Judge

Level: 8

Magical Power: 95

Status: Healthy

Intelligence: 12

Wisdom: 15

Luck: 2

Agility: 10

Strength: 4

Skills:

Unique Skills:

Eye of the Arbiter

“My numbers changed,” Slip observed, unable to keep a toothy grin from his face. Then he blinked. “Wait, what are the good numbers for normal people to have?”

They vary from species to species. Your intelligence is two points higher than the average Kobold, while your wisdom is ten points higher. Your strength is six points lower, and your agility is five points lower. Luck does not have a standard.

“That’s not too bad,” Slip said, wiping a bit of the liquid that he’d missed away with a grimace. “And I think we might have a problem. Unless those people were lying to us, they’ve got no clue what I am. I don’t even know what I am myself.”

You are a judge. And if they do not know what you do, then you must show them. I have been underground for a long time, and I fear to think what has happened to these lands without the fair hand of the law.

“Right,” Slip said, his tongue flickering out. “The fair hand.”

Slip bundled the soiled blankets up and shoved them under his bed. He tucked the book under his arm and headed out the door, leaving his sword behind to avoid drawing Maranda’s ire. He locked it on the way out and descended the stairs.

The crowd had thinned out, but Slip recognized a few of the people from last night including Maranda, who was grabbing a plate of food from the kitchen counter.