The news of Queen Madison’s ascension to the throne spread like wildfire—and so too did her influence. The overwhelming majority of Demons left for their homeland as soon as they could, but enough chose to remain in the city that the townsfolk began to take issue.

For the most part, the Demons that remained took up jobs in the city guard or the military. With their impressive stature, the work suited them well. However, there were a few that chose a different route. They were people that for varying reasons, wanted a fresh start.

One example of this behavior was Enzi Etungsta. A young Demon who like most people, had been a low-ranking conscript who didn’t stand out as exceptional in any way. He had the makings of a decent soldier, but not a great one—he didn’t have the mentality for it, they said. That was especially tough because his only other ‘skill’ was farming.

He’d been a serf of sorts before the war, though slave was the more accurate term. If not for the war, Enzi still would have been stuck on the plantation he’d been born on—destined to stay there until he died of plague, drought, or maybe monsters if he was particularly unlucky. A lowly farmhand making it into old age was rare.

That was why he was ecstatic about having the chance to live in Barnock. It was like leaving his dull previous world behind and entering a new, wildly different one. More than anything, it was a chance at freedom.

But that freedom came at a cost. None of the friends he’d made in the army were staring in Barnock and the people living there already hated his kind. Finding his way would be tough, but he felt assured in the path he’d chosen and confident in his ability to make a life for himself.

Working for the Barnock military was the obvious way forward, but the wrong one. To him, the reason that Demons were being allowed to serve in the Barnock Army was not to bolster their forces, but rather, to keep a tight leash on the Demons that enlisted. The army could dictate where its members worked, slept, and ate—among other things. He felt like letting himself get tied down like that would just be repeating the same life he’d come from with a new coat of paint.

Noble as Prince Risitro was, he wasn’t a god; and there was only so much he could do. Enzi was thankful to the Prince for doing everything he’d done, especially in negotiating Barnock’s surrender terms, but he really would have liked it if in addition to all that, Risitro would have made them give every demon a gazillion billion million platinum coins… or something.

That was wishful thinking, but Enzi really had no clue how he was supposed to get his hands on some money. There was crime, of course, but that probably wouldn’t pan out well in the long run—not for a big, easily distinguishable target like him.

The Guild came to mind, but that was a global organization. Even if Barnock accepted Demons as people, that didn’t mean The Guild’s administration did. It was still possible that they would send in an Adamantite to flatten the whole country when they caught wind of Barnock’s new policies. It had happened to other countries in the past, apparently.

It was quite the predicament. If neither The Guild nor the military were on the table, what was? The citizens seemed to hate Demons with a passion, going so far as to throw profanities—or actual objects—at him just for being nearby. So they wouldn’t be hiring him either.

Enzi chuckled at his hopelessness. For some reason, something about the situation was amusing. He was technically free to do what he wanted but it didn’t really seem that way to him. Standing at dizzying eleven feet tall and with a lifetime of hard physical labor under his belt, Enzi was bigger and stronger than even the toughest orcs. The irony was that it didn’t matter how capable he was if nobody wanted to associate with him.

Just an hour before, he’d been officially dismissed from the Demon Army. Now, he was just walking around the city, exploring the streets. He had nowhere to stay, and since evening was already approaching, he probably wouldn’t find one before dusk. Enzi didn’t mind sleeping on the streets, since he knew nobody would dare try anything to someone weighed more than half a ton, but like anyone else, he would’ve preferred not to.

“Oh well,” He thought, “If there’s nothing I can do about it, then it is what it is. There’s always the next day.”

Eventually, he did stumble onto what he thought was the city’s Guild Hall. He couldn’t read, so there was no way to know for sure, but the building stuck out like an oak tree in the Sahara. In contrast to the practical wooden buildings around it, the place was a huge dome—made from pure stone. If it wasn’t the Guild Hall, it had to be something interesting. He decided to check it out regardless of what it was and, after some contortion on his part, managed to squeeze through the already somewhat large double doors.

The place went silent as he stepped in. There were a lot of people sat around the place’s various tables, for the most part kept merry by copious amounts of alcohol, but the sight of a Demon beat out the booze’s effect.

An obviously drunk adventurer flaunting a gold plate around their next, put on display for all to see, approached him and shouted, “Get out here, you trash!” Seeing that they had the backing of someone strong, the rest of the adventurers echoed the sentiment. Enzi looked down at the ground as pandemonium consumed the building.

Trying to ignore the profanities—of which there were many—Enzi tried to reach the front desk, but when he got close, a wall of adventurers blocked him from reaching his destination. Someone threw a punch, and another threw a kick. The attacks didn’t hurt physically, but in his mind, the poor Demon was screaming.

Enzi mustered the politest, most patient voice he could, “A thousand pardons guys, I hate to bother, but would you please move a little so that I can talk to the person at the desk?” In response, he felt a plate shatter across the side of his head.

It was the clerk at the front desk that quelled the mayhem. In a clear, loud voice, she issued a warning, “Break it up. None of you have any right to treat a guest that way. I will issue suspensions if this continues.”

That worked, more or less. Someone spit on his shoe as they walked away, but the crowd dissipated. Enzi walked up to the desk he’d been trying to reach, feeling quite awkward. He dropped to a knee, and though he was still a few feet taller than the clerk, he could look her in the eye now. “Umm… thank you for that.”

“Just doing my job. What brings you?”

“I just have a few questions.”

“Shoot.” Her tone was neutral, which was a nice change of pace compared to most other humans he’d spoken to.

He spoke quietly, hoping that the eavesdropping Adventurers wouldn’t be able to hear, “Okay then. First off, I’m wondering if there’s any way for someone like me to join The Guild.”

“Someone like you? Are you referring to your race? If so, then probably not.” She sighed, “Only humans, orcs, elves, and the meiah can join… that being said, I guess there’s technically nothing stopping you from teaming up with existing Guild members. You could just have them accept the quests and split the pay.”

Enzi took a glance at the rest of the room. It seemed unlikely that such a thing could actually materialize. Even if some adventurers did sympathize with him, he doubted that they would step forward to help because of judgement they’d receive from their peers. He asked another question, “Well in that case, are jobs outside of The Guild or Military that I could feasibly get?”

She took a moment to think. “You could try getting a job fixing the wall. I think you’d do well in that line of work, and almost all the people who worked there previously died yesterday… so you could probably find an opening.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll try that. One more question then, what’s the cheapest possible place to stay the night?”

“Do you mean the cheapest place it would be acceptable to stay or do you actually want THE cheapest place in the whole city.”

“The latter, I think.”

The clerk sighed, “Well in that case, there’s a place in the Warrens. “Alice’s Inn” is the name, but it’s not a good—or even safe—place to go…”

“What are the warrens?” He interrupted her.

“Oh yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know. It’s what we call the poorest, most dangerous ghetto in the entirety of Barnock. It’s essentially just a maze of especially isolated alleyways, formed by buildings built way too closely together.”

“And how do I get to this Inn?”

She smiled, “Hard to say. It doesn’t even have an address. All I can say for sure it that it’s on near the border between the Warrens and the rest of the city.”

He asked her a few more questions and got a few more answers. Just stuff about how to find the construction site and where ‘The Warrens’ were.