Red, Skyeyes, and even Merdon to an extent, were staring at the large gates which led into the capital city of Ardmach. Everyone had heard about the two black gates that barred entrance to the capital city, but it was the first time the three of them had seen one of them in person. The other gate was, naturally, on the other end of the city. There were only two paths into or out of Ardmach, at least as far as the public knew. This controlled the flow of people just as well as the steep mountain paths which led up to them, and the paths had been steep. Their awe at seeing the gate only distracted from their sore rears, and legs from when the pathway had gotten slim enough they needed to walk the horses up, for so long. Still, rumor had it the other side of the mountain was better maintained and easier to get down than up.

After gawking, Merdon nodded to the group and trotted their horses up to the guards at the gate. The black and gold-trimmed armor was a far cry from Merdon's sterling silver, and it matched their station at the gate perfectly. He wondered, momentarily, if the color of the gates had come about because of Avant's flag colors, or if it was the other way around. Something that reminded enemies of their impenetrable defenses was just as likely as their impenetrable defenses being colored the same as the nation for a reminder. Either way, it linked the two, colors with strength or strength with the colors, and made for a very imposing display.

It helped there were guards patrolling the top of the wall as well. The gate was, of course, attached to a giant wall which was just as tall as the gate itself, made from the same materials, and stretched all the way around the city. Ardmach's watch circled the town every hour of every day in every type of weather. All of them clad in the same black and gold armor, some carrying bows, others using shields and swords, every one of them an expertly trained warrior. Avant was known for them after all; its army was feared in almost every nation, even their allies. Without their influence, the last great war would have gone very differently, and it was in that war the elves saw what Avant was capable of, causing them to sign a treaty with Avant that held the current era of peace.

Looking at their fortifications, the castles much closer to fortresses at this range, even the gate guards, Merdon could imagine why. He felt out of place even as the first of the two guards on the ground removed his helmet and approached the travelers. The travelers weren't a threat, not to him, not when he had a half dozen archers behind him on the wall.

“Do you have your papers?” he asked, a firm gaze aimed at the kobolds. Merdon didn't understand, but apparently Skyeyes did.

“Right here, sir,” the priest replied, pulling out an official document and handing it to the guard.

“Papers?” Merdon asked, looking at Skyeyes and the others for an answer.

The guard looked at him with some concern. “Papers of ownership,” he said. “If these kobolds don't own themselves, as this one does, then you must own them.”

The knight's mouth hung for a second before he got rather upset. The thieves of Sedra would never ask his guild for help returning slaves, so Bereth's branch had never dealt with escaped slaves. These papers were news to him.

“It's not enough they be free of chains, they have to pay for themselves?”

After handing the papers back to Skyeyes, the guard shook his head. “I don't make the rules, sir. You may wish to collar the other two while they're in the city until they get their papers. Accidents tend to happen otherwise,” he told the freelance knight.

Merdon gingerly gripped the handle of his sword and shot the man a dead look. “I'd suggest you place the idea of collars firmly out of your mind, good knight,” he warned the man in a cold tone. In front of him, he could practically make out the sound of the bowstrings being drawn on the parapets above. Drawing his sword for real would have been suicide, he knew, even Sarel tensed at his action.

The guard held up his hands in surrender and stepped aside. He had tried to warn them, which was all he had to do. Whatever stupidity the knight wished to engage in afterward was his own fault.

Merdon left his weapon in its sheath and spurred his horse forward into the city, with Skyeyes and Red right behind them. Passing through the gate and into the city was like stepping into another plane of existence. The large metal bars embedded in the stone gate hung over them ominously, but as soon as they were on the other side they were greeted by a massive sprawling city teeming with life and activity. People of all kinds hurried down streets, alleyways, into shops and houses, it made Bereth look like a village of huts. Things only seemed grander as they left their horses at a stable near the gate and proceeded into the city proper on foot.

The buildings were large and made out of stone, which made sense to Merdon as the city itself was part of Ardmach's fortifications. Each building along the walls was built to be even higher than the walls, but shorter than the parapets on the corners. First, one had to climb a mountain, then the walls, and finally over the buildings, lest they deal with Ardmach's army marching up the stairs at them. It also meant firing cannons or catapults was harder. Not only did they have to fire from the ground, but they had to be better aimed if they wanted to get over the buildings that essentially formed a second wall inside the city. This made scaling the city three times over impossible. Topped with there only being two gates and it made it hard to escape from the capital if one committed a crime.

It also left Merdon feeling like he was walking through a prison rather than a city. Sure, people were laughing, bards playing from the local taverns, of which many were around, people had gardens on their houses, the citizens were generally smiling, but surrounded as he was by stone it felt like he was trapped. He understood why Sarel would have wanted to leave Ardmach now. A kobold like her, a thief and one that values her freedom so highly, must have felt suffocated in such a place. Glancing at her over his shoulder confirmed his theory, as the blue kobold had her jaw set while her eyes darted around at just about everything they passed. Like she expected to be attacked and enslaved at every intersection.

“You'll be fine,” Merdon said back to her, quietly, as they walked through the busy streets. He wanted to be supportive, reassuring. There wasn't anything they would encounter he couldn't handle.

Sarel gave him a wan smile and went right back to looking around at the city. “The kobold district is on the Southern wall,” she told them all, or at least she said it just loud enough for them to all hear.

Skyeyes stopped and looked down a path which led to the center of the city. There, visible from almost every intersection, was Avant's Grand Cathedral. The church in Bereth was impressive, but the one in Ardmach simply blew it out of the water. Even Merdon, as far away as he was, felt impressed by the building. Surrounded as it was by soul-stealing stone, the church was beautiful. Statues almost as big as buildings stood on either side of a long marble staircase that led up to the front doors of the cathedral, which itself was a pristine white color. It stood out not only in size but in its hue. As if the church were daring the gray and black stone around to sully it. Or, perhaps it was the heart of the city, pure while encased in a dark outer shell.

Merdon shook the thoughts from his head and looked at the priest. “I assume you'll be going there?”

Skyeyes nodded. “I will find you all later,” he told them as he started walking towards the white beacon in the distance.

Red, in the absence of Skyeyes, stepped a little closer to Merdon. As impressed with everything as she was, she was also quite concerned about the big city. While Sarel seemed wary, Red appeared frightened. Whether by the sounds, the crowds, or perhaps even the talk about needing papers to be free, it wasn't clear. What was clear was the fretting expression she had on, as well as the nervous clacking of her claws.

Quickclaw took a deep breath and then stepped forward, turning down a street. “This way,” she beckoned her companions. “Quickclaw knows this city well. It is best she leads.” Merdon had no complaints about following her and simply went along.

It was a gradual shift, but the longer they followed the blue kobold the worse things got. First buildings began to look shoddier, less cared for, with glass windows often being replaced by boards. The people followed suit. At first, it was just holes in clothes, unpatched, though the people seemed bothered by them. After a few more streets their clothes were entirely patchworked, made completely from scrap cloth, and they didn't care. Not about that, nor the smell on them. Merdon frowned at the sight of it all. Even Bereth didn't have such a discrepancy between the classes. Such a large gap between the people, he wondered how they could stand living so close together. None of which was allayed when they reached the kobold district.

The previous areas had been impoverished, but this cluster of buildings took the prize. Along the wall stood taller buildings to defend the perimeter, but here with kobolds in hovels, the wall was simply built higher. Archers stationed along the top wall looked in just as much as they did outside. It took Merdon no more than a minute to feel the eyes on him, watching the only human in the area. Curious people wanting to know why he dared to enter the domain of the kobolds in Ardmach. He glanced at them from time to time; the archers didn't try to hide their gaze. They stood in place, deliberately facing inward. Ardmach felt like a prison before, now Merdon was sure it was one.

Sarel wasn't bothered, or if she was the kobold hid it well. Perhaps she was just used to it. She led them down a set of streets, the kobold homes being smaller, squat, seemingly made from some cheap lumber and mud, if wood was involved at all in the construction, and it made navigating difficult. Not to mention the streets were at odd angles with random dead ends, on top of not being paved like the rest of the city. The knight wondered why that would be. To keep the humans out of their end of the city was his best guess, and maybe that was why the archers watched it so heavily. Both were best-case scenarios in his mind, both groups were protecting the one in danger. Still, Quickclaw knew her way around and she deftly moved from corner to corner without pause, brushing past every kobold on the street.

Every kobold on the street was also watching her and Merdon. Mostly Merdon. Their looks spoke volumes about his presence in their district. They scowled, some reached for weapons, others ducked into houses, some of which probably weren't theirs. It didn't matter. A human was here, prowling around, with two other kobolds nonetheless, and wearing a heavy suit of armor. He looked ready for a fight, and some of the tougher looking lizards seemed ready to give it to him. There was no way for him to defuse the situation when Sarel was moving so quickly. In fact, it was all Merdon could do to keep up with her. She knew though if they stopped the situation would only get worse. Only one thing would get the eyes off of them, and that's what she was aiming for.

They came to a stop, at last, outside of a hut no different from any other. Now that Merdon could look, he noticed there were no nameplates or addresses on anything. He wondered how the kobold girl knew where to go, but before he could open his mouth to ask she grabbed his hand and yanked him towards the house. Caught off guard, she managed to tug him forward, lurching him down and forward, at which point the knight decided it was best if he just followed along. Half crouching to get inside the door, Merdon emerged in a room which was just as small as it looked outside, with Red right behind him looking nervous.

It was as plain inside as it was outside, mud and wood held everything together, the furniture was built to kobold sizes, including a bed in the corner. A table took up the middle of the room and it didn't even come to the human's waist, let alone the three chairs that surrounded it. Even crouching inside the house he felt too big like he was inside of a dollhouse. The occupant though, a dark blue, almost black, scaled kobold sitting on one of the chairs fit perfectly in it. Nothing about the home was designed for humans, and all at once he understood how kobolds felt outside of this district. He shifted awkwardly at the realization and tried to stay close to Sarel, just in case. Not that he knew what just in case of, but just in case anyway. Nervousness spread through him like a wildfire.

The kobold at the table looked at them, Merdon in particular, and hissed, “Sarel, what have you brought to Ulla's home?” That did not sound like one of those hiding names, like Quickclaw.

Sarel frowned at her and replied, “This is my verakt.”

Ulla looked at the Red kobold instead. “She seems quite frail, but you could do worse.”

“No,” Quickclaw said, pointedly grabbing Merdon's hand. “The human.”

Merdon blushed at her insistence, but the darker colored kobold shot his feelings down. “Ulla was hoping you still had some sense in your head.”

He knew how kobolds felt, but this felt rather harsh. Of course, he hadn't been there when Sarel had tried to help him by seeking out a healer in the mountains. All he knew of their prejudices were imagined, there he learned for sure. It didn't matter what a human did, whether they were good or evil, if they were human the kobolds would hate them.

The light blue kobold huffed. “Merdon rescued Sarel from a group of slavers, along with dozens of others who had been captured.”

That didn't seem to have any effect, however. Ulla rolled her eyes and stood up. “That Sarel was captured at all shows how foolish she is.” The light blue kobold was about to respond, but her mother, Merdon knew that was who they were speaking to, cut her off. “Your red friend can stay, but the hume must go,” she said, the emphasis on hume telling them exactly how she felt.

Sarel didn't let it drop. She tugged Merdon along with her as she took an aggressive stance towards her mother. Her tail slapped the ground as her body moved forward, leaning towards Ulla, almost ready to pounce as she seethed, “Merdon is my verakt. He does not need to go anywhere!”

Ulla turned around, her face curled in a sneer. “Listen to how Sarel speaks like them,” she uttered with disdain.

While Sarel recoiled and looked down at herself, realizing the mistake she had made too, Merdon was hearing footsteps outside. The doorway was covered by ill-fitting sections of wood, hardly any kind of barrier at all, and the shadows moving around outside weren't normal foot traffic. Kobolds were out there, waiting. It was probable they heard the noise and were getting ready to come in and attack the offending human, which gave the man an itch on his back right about where a dagger would end up if he didn't move.

He stepped sideways, still hunched over in the short house, and looked at Sarel. “I think I should go,” he almost whispered.

Ulla had a sneer on her face as she said from across the room, “Yes, the hume should, and he should never come back.” No doubt she felt her daughter shouldn't go with him, or see him again either, but she didn't say as much.

“There is no need, verakt,” Sarel insisted. “Sarel's mother is just being stubborn.” It was then, turning to face him, she noticed the footsteps outside. She glanced at Ulla with a degree of hate in her eyes.

“We protect our own,” the old kobold woman replied accompanied by a thump of her own tail. “The hume should leave.”

Merdon rubbed the top of Sarel's head quickly, something semi innocent so as not to set off Ulla again, and then he made for the door. Outside, at least six kobolds stood in rather close proximity to the door. They eyed Merdon, a few wielding clubs just to make a point. He closed the door behind him and turned to travel down the road. Sarel could hear him as he walked, “If you want me out of here faster... can someone show me the way out?” A lost hume in the kobold slums asking for directions. That was a first in her mind.

Which left Sarel with her mother, and the lighter colored kobold sat with a deal of vigor, to display her irritation. Red did her best to make herself comfortable as well while examining the hovel. The walls were mud layered with boards, as was the floor. It was a dirty environment all around, and one that didn't seem built to last. With all of the wood, she felt they could have built a more stable house, but instead they slathered everything together using mud. Of course, it took her until then to notice the lack of nails. Only the chairs, table, and bed were held together firmly. She couldn't fathom the kind of existence that made nails difficult to get a hold of, especially with kobolds like Quickclaw.

It also gave her time to reflect on the information. Sarel was the blue kobold's true name. The red kobold felt slightly honored to know it, but she also realized that if the witch were to learn of it her companion would be in trouble. She would have to warn Merdon, and perhaps all of the others, about the possibility. They should not use their true names openly. Even now she felt a prick of danger along her spine. Rumors of Merdon had reached her former mistress from all the way across the kingdom. A name could travel just as fast and just as far, depending on who spoke of it, or who heard it.

“Why do you do this to Ulla?” the darker blue kobold said suddenly, looking her daughter in the eyes. “First you become a thief, putting yourself in great danger. Then you forgo getting papers, which you know as well as any of us it's dangerous in Ardmach with them, let alone without. And now you call a hume your mate, your verakt!”

Sarel reiterated her points. She talked about Merdon saving her, taking arrows for her, his kindness. He was not like the humans that hunted them. Ulla was not having it. For being the owner of the house, she never sat, only stood and shouted at Sarel. From her perspective, this was another in a list of decisions her daughter had made out of spite to the system they lived in. It wasn't anything more than a rebellious streak Ulla expected to end, soon. Before long, Sarel was pounding on the table as she shouted, and her mother was gesturing with her claws.

Red sat quietly and just barely paid attention. Not that Sarel could recall half of the argument herself. She slipped into a mind-numbing rage as she yelled at her mother. There hadn't been much of a hope even she would support the interspecies arrangement, but Sarel had held that hope, however faintly that hold was. Having it dashed against the rocks as it were left her with nothing but anger and bile. She had to let it out somehow, and having her mother to yell at was helping. Before she realized it, the sun had gone down, her voice was hoarse, and she felt exhausted.

The fire in the crude fireplace died down low as Ulla threw herself on her bed and put her back to the guests. “You may stay,” she said sullenly, “But you'll sleep on the floor.”

Sarel huffed. “Sarel will leave, she will stay with her verakt,” she retorted stubbornly.

Ulla almost turned to respond when a sharp whistled echoed through the slums, causing her to bolt up. “Slavers,” she whispered.

Red looked confused. “Slavers? Why?”

“Some do not have papers,” Ulla explained quickly. “Some they do not care either way. They will destroy them and take the kobolds anyway.”

“What?” Red said with shock, standing up and looking around. “Why would you live here then?”

Ulla looked upset at the notion. “Where else could we go?” she asked rather sadly. “Live in caves and forests without hope of papers? Without possibilities? As rogues?” Her eyes locked on Sarel at that last part.

Quickclaw grunted and grabbed Red's claw. “Come, if we move quickly we can pass through their web. They will not care about Ulla's door, and there is nowhere to hide in here.”

“Web?” Red asked again, the memory-less kobold completely out of her depth.

Ulla took the explanation. “They start on both ends of the slums and move in. If you can hide, you can get around them.”

Sarel didn't waste any time afterward. She grabbed Red's claw tightly and pulled her out onto the small, winding streets of the slums. The air was thick with the smell of fire, and lights could be seen all over. Some kobolds were fighting the humans, their lot would be to end up in cages if they were allowed to survive. Red felt a whole new level of fear grip her heart as she thought about being captured. These kobolds lived a worse life than she had at the witch's tower. Here, the kobolds were surrounded by their enemies, though they also had their names, their friends, she knew which she preferred though. Having humans so close, ready to upend their lives for profit, Red would rather be nameless. For a moment, she felt like she understood why the witch claimed to love kobolds despite what she did to them.

Red's contemplation was ended when Sarel yanked her down an alley and slammed her against a wall as she covered the red kobold's mouth. A pair of boots stomped by followed by the whizzing of arrows after him and claws on the ground chasing him. A kobold had a bow and was trying to kill as many as he could. Sarel sat quietly for a long, draining time, at least it seemed long. She motioned for Red to keep quiet and pulled her along to the other side of the alley, looking out both directions before stepping out and moving toward the next section of the city. They had only crossed a few feet from Ulla's house, and there was around a quarter-mile to escape the slums. Quickclaw knew her way around though, as she pulled Red along into alleyways, behind boxes, her ears sharp for the sounds of footfall.

Alley after alley became a blur in Red's mind. Once or twice they encountered another kobold that was hiding or fleeing, and they acted much the same way Sarel did. Red felt impressed with this system of keeping them safe, or as safe as they could be. The winding streets made it hard for any lookouts to catch running kobolds, while also giving those who knew the area places to hide or ambush the slavers. She felt glad to have Quickclaw guiding her because Red knew without her friend she would have been caught long ago. Like all good things, however, this came to an end.

As they rounded a corner, panting hard, feet sore from sprinting the whole time, they encountered something Sarel had not expected. Four or five men stood at the entrance to the slums, each one armed, a couple doubling up by carrying torches. While she considered doubling back, trying another street, the humans saw her and one fired an arrow in their direction. She dodged it, naturally, and Red was on the wrong side to get hit, but it posed a problem. Now the five were advancing, and one of them shouted, “Couple of runners!” The slaver's nets were getting tighter over time. This was the first time in years Sarel had been forced to run through one, she wasn't up to date on their plans. Thinking on her feet, the thief dove behind some barrels the kobolds left as cover, with Red right behind her starting to hyperventilate. Even Quickclaw knew that wasn't a good sign. Their hiding place gave her an idea though, especially after she tapped the barrel and found it was empty.

Moving as fast as she could, Sarel pulled the barrel over on its side, leaned back and, using her tail for extra force, pushed the barrel with her feet. It launched forward, rolling towards the five in the narrow street entrance. They shouted and moved to get out of the way. The ones on the edges simply stepped aside, but the boys in the middle had to dive. Having no idea what was in it, they were better safe than sorry. It gave her and Red a good enough lead to sprint through them, Sarel grinning and sticking her tongue out at one of the standing slavers as they passed. Unfortunately, they weren't out of the woods yet. Having been seen, the five slavers chased after them, and the blue kobold was certain there had to be more around. Making things worse, they were out in the open now. Ardmach was Sarel's home, and she knew it well, but the slavers knew it just as well, and there weren't any more special hiding places. Diving into alleyways was now calculated risk; either there would be something to take cover behind, or it would be empty and a waste of time and energy.

Not wanting to waste either, she pulled Red down the first alley they came to and looked for any escape. Nothing, nothing at all in fact. It was empty. She swore with a heavy panting breath and kept moving. Red was slowing down, they could both feel it, but neither of them wanted to give up. Not yet, not like this at least. Sarel was scrambling for an idea, anything. As they came around the corner and saw the giant cathedral in the distance, the thief had at least one idea. They could run there, at least find Skyeyes, or perhaps...

“Merdon,” Sarel shouted. They had to find him. He could help them. She didn't know how, but he had done it twice before for her.

The boots of the men behind Sarel made her pick up the pace, practically dragging Red along with her. She rounded another corner and pushed some things over into the alley behind them as she saw them. Maybe it would slow them down, she hoped. A hope that was crushed as she reached the other end of the alleyway and found two sizable men with clubs looking at her. The slavers were chasing them in both directions now. Entering any more alleys was suicide. It was only luck she managed to roll under the two, distracting them long enough for Red to sidestep them and keep running.

Sarel was behind her now, and their breathing was hard enough it was the only thing either of them could hear. The sound of their pounding hearts and burning lungs sucking air through their dry throats and mouths. Red's chest felt like it would explode, and Sarel was starting to slow down now too. It was a dead sprint, a race, towards the shining white cathedral, a beacon in the distance that was getting close the more they ran. Street after street, block after block, a whole half-mile of middle-class city. For a moment, the blue-scaled kobold realized she had the magic ring, she could have summoned a wolf at any time to carry them. By the time she realized that it was too late.

They were close enough to the cathedral, and in fact, Sarel saw Skyeyes stepping out of it. And a moment later a pair of guards near the church barred their path, and several more guards came in from side streets as the slavers approached from the back. The thief reached for her dagger, pulling it out in fact, only for one of the armored guards to kick her in the chest and knock her over, making the metal dagger skitter along the ground to a slaver's foot. She laid there on the cold, gray stone, feet away from help, and reached out towards the white kobold who had suddenly sprinted up to the guards.

Skyeyes was ordered to show his papers, which he did without hesitation. He asked what was happening and the worst was confirmed, the slavers had been tipped off by a guard about two kobolds that had no owner, they were free for the taking. He couldn't argue with them, Sarel knew that, but they needed something, anything. Some kind of hope. A slaver gave her an opportunity unwittingly. He kicked the blue kobold, hard, but not quite hard enough for the leap she disguised as being from the impact of his kick. Sarel landed under the guards, near Skyeyes, and she looked at him with worry. Quietly, she slipped her magic ring from her finger and rolled it. The sound of the copper band rolling along the flagstone was completely drowned out by the slavers gloating to each other as they hauled Red up to her feet. Sarel only managed to croak, “Merdon” before they grabbed her as well.

Red was screaming, kicking, flailing, to no avail. Eventually, one of the men shouted at her to be quiet and punched her square in the jaw. She yelped and went silent, tears in her eyes from all of the stress and fear. Skyeyes wanted to do something about that, it was all he could think about as he clutched Quickclaw's ring in his claw. They needed Merdon, now more than ever did they need him. The priest slipped the ring onto his finger and stalked off into the night, quickly, avoiding joining his friends that were being shackled as he walked away.