Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2: Of Humanity

Zaedus surfaced in the back room of “The Drunken Mule”, an almost hideously lowbrow sort of tavern, but it was where the work was for the time being, and the people were pretty good. Zaedus headed into the main part of the tavern and sat himself down in the nearest stool.

“I took care of your rat problem Jack,” Zaedus yelled. Jack owned the pub, but how he mustered enough money or business sense to start up and continue to run the place was a mystery like no other. Jack walked up to Zaedus polishing a glass; it was a slow day and Jack had little else to do.

“You did you say?” Jack replied.

“Exactly!” Zaedus answered, “You’re a bright one Jack.”

“I try to be, but it doesn’t always work.”

“Oh well, we can’t be brilliant all the time,” Zaedus replied then added, “Anyway, my pay?”

“Of course, of course. What did we agree on again, twenty five pence?”

“Something like that,” Zaedus grumbled. Twenty-five pence was hardly a sum to risk your life for, but it was better than he had previously made. He took the handful of coins. “Oh and my pack, I left it with you before I went down below.” Jack handed Zaedus his pack. Zaedus placed his small collection of coins inside. It was not much, but it would have to do.

“Well, be seeing you Jack,” Zaedus got up, opened the door and left. The town was a small village at best: Small houses, dirt roads, annoying children running everywhere. A quiet lifestyle symbolized the town. It was aptly named Green Field because of its sprawling, green, fields. Zaedus was always amazed at the general dullness of human names, and how they generally just strung two words together and hoped it would work. He preferred the Reptilian method of just stringing letters together until they worked.

Zaedus knew he stood out, but he had always stuck out. Reptilians are usually earthy colours ranging from green to brown; they look nothing like people at all. Zaedus was red which faded gently into a reddish purple, so he didn’t even match his fellow lizards. Having Cindy slung over his back didn’t help either, as he was quite possibly one of a very few who even possessed a sword, let alone such a massive one. He also happened to be the only one wearing armor and this distanced him well from the people.

Sometimes he would loath his lack of acceptance, but this time he was simply tired and had no time for anyone. People kept their distance and Zaedus always knew he had about a five foot radius where most would not step. If Zaedus was having a bad day, he could even manage to part small crowds. Tonight though, it mattered not as he walked towards the local Inn.

Someone hit him head on, knocking him off balance but not down. He spun around and grabbed whoever had hit him. He managed to catch its jacket. and he spun who ever it was around. It was a kid. Humans age slowly so this one was most likely about sixteen. Zaedus picked him off the ground and held him in the air. Zaedus, contrary to popular belief, could not smell fear, but if he could, he assumed he would be smelling it now.

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