Meeting the Troops

As we trundle along in the carriage, Leia hands me a small metal flask filled with my favorite drink.

“I think you might need this.”

Damn right! It’s been nearly 4 days and I still have no clue what state the organization I’m supposed to lead is in. Given we’re nearly there, I quickly press her for details.

“Leia, how many staff do we have working at the Laios Order of Police office?”

“Hmm...” she takes a second to be sure. “Less than 20. 18, I’d say.”

18 people? For a city that, based on the size, has at least a couple million people? Are you kidding me?

“That’s the total, including uniformed patrol officers?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

I quickly grab my notepad and scrawl RECRUITMENT (!) (!) (!) in all caps. Not good. This isn’t even a skeleton crew.

“How on earth do they get anything done with that few-”

She cuts me off mid-sentence.

“The Royal College of Magic has assumed the LOP’s duties in the meantime, as it’s a training opportunity for their mages. It’s an unwelcome change from their traditional curriculum and many of the mages do it because it’s an easy grade.”

“So”, I wonder, “These guys filling in have no incentive to do the job thoroughly?”

“Exactly.” She puts her hand up to her chin, in a statuesque thinking position. “They don’t do any of the investigations or deal with petty crimes, they exclusively catch criminals that they think are fun to deal with.”

So, the mages have got to go. Or rather, I’d prefer to use them like we used the Marshals; give them difficult assignments, find wanted criminals, and capture them. They clearly do not want to do actual policework.

The carriage comes to a stop, jutting up against a cobblestone stop.

“We’re here!” Leia beams. “The first one you’ll meet is Fredericus. He’s assumed a sort of leadership role since it all fell apart here. He’s very nice.”

Well, here goes. I pull myself out of the carriage and plop down on the ground to see my first glimpse of the office I’ll be making my home for the foreseeable future. I’m met with a tall concrete wall, and an extremely shabby, rusty solid iron gate. A goblin in a blue robe, wearing a patchy imitation of a blue police cap looks at me, then opens the gate from within his little security watch post. I glance at the opposite sidewalk to see a crowd of elf-like creatures huddled around, about 20 of them, keenly eyeing me. Creepy.

As this gate swings open, I see an extremely run-down, slightly modern-looking concrete two-story building with a long, cracked walkway leading to a wooden front door. The building is covered in vines. The small lawn surrounding it is unkempt. One of the windows on the top floor is busted out, the one next to it covered with cheap wooden planks. The shrubbery alongside the building is dead.

It looks completely abandoned, but I can see lights on inside. On my notepad, I jot “RESTO”. Restoration. Not like I could forget about it, but still necessary.

“Well, I’ll be going now. I have some business at the College to attend to. Good luck!”

Leia scurries off, jumping into the carriage and quickly pulling away before I can protest. I’m left standing in this nearly apocalyptic scene, an empty courtyard. I see the front door swing open. It’s an elf! A much physically smaller one wearing small round glasses, a male, dressed in what appears to be a professors’ robe, with the same exaggerated jutting-out collar Kalth had. He has that same pampered, elegant type of voice, too.

“JOHN!”

Yes, John here.

“Please, come here.”

I amble my way to the front door and shake his hand.

“I’m Fredericus, the one in charge here. There is much to speak about. You must meet the department.”

As we shove our way through the stiff, difficult wooden front door, I discover my new underlings lined up in a row in the front lobby, as if for inspection. The sight is bewildering.

At the front of the row is a massive, hulking dark-green creature with two giant fang-teeth jutting from his lower jaw… an Orc. He’s dressed in a similar kind of shabby sack-cloth that I saw near our hotel. Next to him is an elf, but with dark, sickly looking skin, wearing some sort of leather forest hunting gear. Then, one Dwarf wearing black mixed leather and iron armor, with the typical two-horned helmet, and of course an impressive beard. Behind him is a row of nine completely identical looking dwarves, all of which are kneeling.

A few steps aside from the dwarves, I pan my eyes to see a massive, hulking… human? 6’4, 300 pounds of pure muscle, standing proud at attention. Next to him is a human teenager, skinny and nervous.

So; an orc, a dark elf, 10 dwarves, a big country boy and a kid. I’m sure there are small country departments with less guys, but this is crazy. I decide to walk down the line and ask them to introduce themselves.

I approach the orc, standing at the head of the row. Given what he looks like, a militaristic attitude is probably the best to take here. I stand directly in front of him and size him up.

“STATE YOUR NAME.”, I bark. My best Marine drill sergeant impression.

“UNGH!”, he shouts.

“STATE YOUR NAME, I SAID!”

“UNGH!!”

What the hell? Is he really too stupid to talk? I can see beads of sweat rolling down his ugly, green forehead.

“STOP GRUNTING AT ME. TELL ME YOUR NAME, SON!”

“NAME UNGH!!!”, he shouts, with a tinge of desperation.

Wait a second, his name might be Ungh. I turn to look at Fredericus, behind me. He’s embarrassed out of his mind, it looks like he’s about to pass out. He’s desperately signalling to me that this orc has been telling me his name the entire time.

“UNGH???” I shout. I’ve got to keep the pressure on him.

“UNGH!”, the orc shouts back.

“I DON’T LIKE UNGH. Your name from now on will be BILL. Do you understand?”

“BIRU!”

“BILL!”, I shout, louder this time.

“BIRU!”

It looks like he gets it.

“VERY GOOD. AT EASE.”

The elf beside him is visibly shell-shocked from this interaction. Maybe it’s unusual for people to talk to orcs like this. Bill, God bless him, was a giant country boy who worked in the jail back home. Massive, clueless, but a sweet guy and very thoughtful. The epitome of a corn-fed good ol’ boy. This jolly green giant reminds me of him.

I step down the line. In front of me is an elf. Not the healthy-looking, pale elves I’m used to. He’s got splotchy, grey, ugly skin, and he’s dressed like some kind of forest ranger or a hunter. Given his visible discomfort at the macho shouting match I just had next to him, I decide to tone it down for him.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Munin, sir.”

“What are you?”, I ask with all the tact I can muster.

“A dark elf, sir. A representative of my tribe.”

Ah, a dark elf. His skin looks familiar. He could be related to that guy that brought me that letter in the bar. Wait – I still haven’t opened it yet! I pat my pants pocket, it’s still there. Whew.

“What do you dark elves do around here?”

“Stealth, surveillance, reconnaissance, sir.”

“Very good.” He might be useful.

I then step to the Dwarves. The most impressive one, clearly a leader, meets my gaze with a steely, steadfast stare. I decide to give him the same treatment as the orc.

“YOUR NAME?”, I bark.

“MAAHNN!”, he shouts.

“MAN?” I give him that piercing, incredulous look that I remember oh-so-well from boot camp.

“MAAHNN, SIR!”

“And WHO are THEY?”, I bark, looking over his head. All 9 of the dwarves behind him stand up to attention from their kneeling position. I really cannot tell them apart, they look freaking identical down to the very last detail. Even the beards are styled the same.

In perfect synchronization, they shout their names.

“E!”

“M!”

“K!”

“C!”

“U!”

“I!”

“G!”

“M!”

“V!”

“V-very well. At ease.” I admit defeat.

This thoroughly shakes me. There is no way I’m ever going to remember these guys’ names. They’re very enthusiastic, but I’m going to have to rely on… Maahnn… to keep them in line. I glance back at Fredericus again… He’s fully facepalming. He must have seen this coming for a long time.

I then step to my two human compatriots. First, this absolute monster of a man. Nearly as big as the orc, clean shaven, with a kind face.

“What’s your name, big boy?”, I ask.

“Conan, sir. This is Gerardo.”

He motions down towards the teenager.

“Why did you join the police force, Conan?”

“For the gym membership, sir.”

Ah. I’ve heard that one before. Not even going to go there – good enough for me.

I turn to the kid.

“What are you doing here, young man?”

“I want to help our community!”, he fires back, with a mixture of anxiety and determination.

Oh great, a bleeding heart. He’ll figure it out one day. With that, my impromptu roll-call circus was finished. I dismissed my “soldiers” and went back to Fredericus, who looked stressed out beyond belief. This must be the most excitement that’s happened in this building in years.