The Watch patrol moved along the street like scattered ghosts.  Pale white figures in the predawn dark. White capes, white leather jerkins, and leggings.  A tall one bent nearly double skulked along the wall, peering into the alleys and down the spaces between three and four-story buildings, then crossed to the other side to do the same.  “Ffffffff!”

The group stopped, turning to the bent skulking figure.

“Ffffft!”  a hissing sound from that one.

“Whistle idiot!" said one in the middle of the street.  The others chuckled.  “Light.”

“Me no can, Blenum, sir.” said the skulking one, the voice was high-pitched and squeaky like a rusty hinge.

“Keep trying monster.” replied the man.

“Yes sir.”

The lit torch, was suddenly bright and near blinding in the dark narrow street, held up by a stocky Dwarf.   Red brown-haired and braided beard, wearing chain-linked armor under the white cape of the Watch. Two humans stayed in position watching up and down the street.  A lithe dark-haired, pale grey-blue-skinned elf stood by the dwarf. 

Blenum walked to the alley where the bent one now stood upright, towering over the others at just over 2.2 meters. Squinting red eyes reflected the light. The broad dark muzzle with leathery dark nose projecting forward. Tawny brown fur, with black spots in ring patterns, sticking out from the white leather shirt and covering the head and neck.  A dark mane stood up between large rounded ears.  The human looked up to the creature standing a head and half taller, pale hazel human eyes meeting the Ghenid's red. He had light brown skin, thick eyebrows, a strong square chin on a clean-shaven face.  “What do we have Dracna?”

“Blood, fresh. Body.” 

Blenum looked in the alleyway and then turned to the figure behind him. “Svarta, can’t you and Wage see in the dark like the Ghenid?”

The girl turned. Black-haired, the gaunt figure gave him a bored look with her violet eyes. “I let the dog do the sniffing.” she said. The dwarf shrugged.

“Me no dog, Elf!” came Dracna’s high-pitched growl.

“Wage, light here please.” Said Blenum motioning the dwarf over.

A black-furred body lay in the narrow alley amongst the trash and debris.  Blenum carefully slid along the wall, motioning Wage the Dwarf to follow.

“Bugbear.  They kill each other all the time, the filthy beasts.”

“Ask around? Witnesses?” asked Dracna, head and ears down as she gazed at the body.

Blenum laughed.  Shaking his head. “Bugbear? In Monster town? No one cares. Filthy monsters. No one will report it.  No loss. We’ll alert the body wagon to haul it to the poor pit. No one ever claims the body.”   

To Dracna the thick metallic blood smell filled the narrow space, fighting with the stew of rotting garbage and rotten urine. Blenum did a quick search for pouches, belts, coins. Dracna wiped her mouth with the back of a furred hand. Swallowing. She thought that the old way died hard.  The body is meat. The salty metallic taste of the blood. The words of the Clan Matriarch echoing in her ears. “We do not do this here. Civilized and not cannibals.  Still the monsters to them. Do not give them more cause to hate us. Leave the dead untouched. The meat is unclean.” 

Blenum stood, tucking something into a pouch on his belt.  “Dracna, you stay and watch the body. Have a bit to eat, monster. No one will miss it.”  He laughed.

She shook her head silently, eyes flicking from figure to figure of the Watch patrol. Wage looking back disgustedly.

Svarta blew her a kiss as the squad moved out along the street.

Dracna watched the torch marking the patrol’s travel along the street, then leaned back listening.  She whispered to the air  “Anything Krarue?”   Her Shadow, the chained ghost familiar of grandmother’s brother, whispered in her ear that nothing living and larger than a rat moved nearby. She slipped into the alley and looked at the body.  Squat, 1.4 meters, bandy-legged with hairy arms that reached almost down the whole length of body and legs, and covered with shaggy black fur sticking out of a bloody shirt and holey trousers. Nubby toes on blocky columnar feet.  The large round head - hairless, swollen, colored and creased like a pumpkin but with a wide mouth full of sharp teeth stretching side to side. Deep-set triangular sockets with flat dead eyes. “Us they hate. Fear” she said to the body. “Monsters.  Barbarians.  Cannibals.” She wondered if the Bugbear had any appreciation of the city, of art, of written words. The street orators or the theaters.  She knows the wild ones hate everything but power and will sell their souls for a strong leader.  

She examined the wounds. Sharp and blunt. Several attackers.  She sniffed and looked around, quickly spotting the dark drops of blood behind the body, on stone and rubbish and running deeper down the alley.  She followed the trail to the next  street. More blood. Another Bugbear laying at the curb. Several bloody spots on the cobblestones and raised walk. Dracna scanned the scene. A bloody dagger by the alley. She took that. She checked the Bugbear. Dead. She searched for pockets, pouches or hidden stashes. A key. Some coin in a bag under the arm. Into her pouch. Empty cheap wood scabbard.  A scrap of paper with a map, that seemed suspiciously like this part of the street. A boarding house marked up the street.  The sign hanging further along the way.  Not some Bugbear duel. Ambush. Who and why? She looked up and down the street.  The tenements. Small shops.  No candle lights.  Someone heard or saw something. This was not a quick knife.  Blows were traded.  Noise made. They stayed to take the weapons.  She thinks. That they could see.  Someone else. With poor night vision - Human, Centaur, or Gnome. The other monsters that lurked in the shadows and prowled the city streets at night didn’t need torches or lanterns to see well.

She spoke in the Ghenid language. “Krarue, I give you blood and you will look in each room facing this spot.” She scooped some of the jelled blood onto her own dagger and recited a chant while tipping the gore into the vapor of the ghost’s form. The offering swirled, broken up and vanishing with the misty shape. She grabbed the second body and dragged it back to the first to resume watching.  No one will talk of the missing Bugbears. The bodies are only passing interest for the neighborhood.  Probably the fight will be talked about. Probably not to her. Blenum wouldn’t care. "Just another filthy Bugbear." Maybe another Sergeant? She waited and watched, thinking. She heard her Shadow’s report about the rooms. Humans and other smooth skins sleeping or talking about the noise of a fight.  And she waited, passing the hours in the predawn gloom. After sunrise and the stirring of people, the body wagon rolled up with a Goblin and Human chatting with the Centaur pulling it. They gave her a double check -seeing a Ghenid in the Watch Whites was unusual even for this city.  Her kind are still seen as savage barbaric monsters. She let them load as she headed back to the watch station, the morning crowds edging away from her.

She considered the sergeants. The Elf Senic. Loud. Flashy. Self interested and just filling his Order’s obligation to work the Watch. Taking his cut from skimming officers.  Barmia is a human female with a goal to move up the ranks. What they call "By The Book". Plecol is a sturdy fixed point, another human, being and doing what he likes best. Seeing himself and the Watch as having an important duty to the city. He may be the best choice and she heads to his box. She found him overseeing a patrol that was gearing up, and waited for his attention.

A glance at her, turned into a sweep from head to foot. “ What have you been doing?”

Surprised, she looked down. Her whites were dirty and streaked with dried blood and dirt from her absent-mindedly wiping hands on her leather jerkin and breeches after hauling the body. The straps loose, and bits of fur showing. “We find dead Bugbears. Think ambush not duel. Find this”  She showed him the paper with the map.

“I heard from Blenum. Bugbears? There was another?’

“Yes, next street. Signs fight. Same map. Maybe some see?”

“If it is important the Tribunes or someone will contact us. Requests will be made. Otherwise, it is done.”

Her ears drooped. “It not smell right.”

“You think there is something?” 

She nodded. “Not right.  Bigger fight. They leave dagger - not see in dark. Some not Bugbear, not see in dark.  Map.”

“Maybe you are making something of nothing.  Like I said, if it is important, we will hear about it.”

She shook her manned head.  “Like in hunt. Trail not right.”

“Stop chewing that bone and get cleaned up Dracna.”

Dracna peeled off the armor, scrubbed the spots and stains, polished the buckles. Set it on her stand. She sought food in the mess.  A bowl of porridge and eggs.  Then she went to her bunk, in the monster corner of the barracks, with kobolds and the minotaur, to sleep.   Early morning and evening the barracks would be full of chat, dice, bragging and talk of the day. Now in the late morning, it was quiet and mostly empty - except a scattering of night patrol members asleep, a few others and the kobold.  Kobolds made everyone uneasy. Furred dog faced ape like things standing maybe a meter tall, with horns on their heads above their pointed ears and naked rat tails. Chittering buzzing voices. Glowing eyes. They don't even sleep….just sat with eyes open and staring, or closed with ears twitching. Just being around them made the skin itchy.  Dracna thanked  Great Mother’s mercy- there was just one there. Next to her bed the minotaur, Ubra, was asleep in his bunk. She went to hers.

She awoke in the early afternoon and dressed simply in a long robe tunic, white short cape, blade and dueling medallion, and set off from the Watch station. She went to the district market, skulking at the margins, listening to the musicians and the orators reading their poetry. She went to the House of Apza, a bath that had several small pools, changed frequently and favored by the furred residents of the district.  She paid the fee at the door and then paid an attendant to put her possessions into a guarded wall pocket.  She made a point of showing and wrapping her things in the short cloak embroidered with the mark of the Watch. Then she made her way to one of the female’s rooms. Empty. This suited her and she climbed into the hot water bath, dunking and soaking. Thinking.  This was more than Bugbear tribes fighting.  The one who can't see well in the dark. A  chief or supervisor who isn't a Bugbear.  The Bugbears fit into the city in that they had patrons or chiefs, much as the city residents had tribes of guilds or houses or district tribunes.  So, whatever it was, the Bugbear chiefs didn't seem to want the officials to know. Some other gangs fighting?  Why should she care? No one else does, it was just monsters like her after all.  Beneath notice and without status.  That scratched at her. 

That night was another regular duty patrol, breaking up fights and brawls at taverns. Looking for signs of fire. Helping a drunk home. Blenum taking bribes to let someone go, to have the patrol look the other way. Paying out shares to the patrol. She told him about the other Bugbear and showed him the map.  He said it was not important.  As she had suspected he would say.

The next day, Dracna went to the Golden Goblin Tavern up in the Old Fort district. Dressed in her plain long tunic robes. Her Watch cloak in a bag at her side. The Goblin catered to nonhuman patrons and so she figured this might give her some clues. She asked about Bugbear bosses and action going on while sipping an ale.  She was told “Don’t know about nothing special. You should go ask at the clubhouse.”  

She had asked after this clubhouse of the Bugbears, apparently one of several in the Old Fort district, Monster Town and the Arena district, and was told the location of one nearby.  She chose to investigate this one in the eastern part of the Old Fort district, also sometimes called The Thieves Quarter. She put on the Watch cape and walked across the area to the location of the clubhouse.  There was a ruined looking tenement with drumming from the inner courtyard.  The outer doors were sealed and boarded or bricked up. Visible through the gate of the courtyard was a bonfire. Bugbears drumming, others dancing both violently and suggestively.  The gate was open. Striding into the courtyard, she was faced with a troop of bugbears rushing forward, gnashing teeth, stomping feet and alternately chest thumping and brandishing weapons as they got closer with grunts and howls.  She had seen this before, The Bann.  A traditional greeting to intimidate and display status. She growled, showing teeth, standing tall and advancing, then pulling her sword for a few sweeps. Growling a chant as she got in close to one with the gold chains of a leader.   She crowded the Bugbear to almost touching and used her greater height to intimidate, looking down at the swollen pumpkin head and wedge socketed eyes of the bugbear.  Ghenid status display. He  snarled at her “What you want Ghenid?” 

“Information.” She replied, leaning on the wall, and over the stocky Bugbear.

 “Go away.” he said with a waving of a hand.

 “I pay.” She pulled a pouch that rattled with coins. “ Only if information good.  Lies get big trouble.”  Laughter from the Bugbears around her.  

“You no boss.”  said Gold Chain.

 “I City Watch.”  

More laughter. “ Don’t care about Whites.  Nothing for you.”

She grabbed the Bugbear and swung it around, slamming him into a wall. “ Two nights ago fighyt. Two Bugbear dead. What that about?” 

 “Nothing for you!” he grunted.  

The others nearby started to close in. Four or five.  There were maybe 20 in the courtyard. More on upper floors.  She bit the boss’ shoulder, making him hiss and thrash in her grip. Licking the fresh blood, and activating The Rite of Marking she had chanted and readied earlier.  “Who fighting?” she breathed quietly into his ear.

The Bugbear snarled and pushed at her, trying to break away.

Her ears flicked back as another approached - she spun with sword out, dodging a mace swing. A two handed strike gutting the bugbear attacker.  Turning back with one hand’s claws catching the Gold Chained Bugbear as he tried to slip away.  “No dueling permits. Brawling.  You get trouble.”  

The Bugbear snarled back “It’s you that gets trouble!”  

“You want talk, I Dracna. University-East Watch.”  She swung the sword to keep back the closing Bugbears and edged to the exit. Using her greater strength she swung the Boss bodily, this time into the group closing in around her.  She bolted, stabbing at another as she left, heading for the main street quickly while the bugbears rushed after her. Dracna outran them, getting to busier streets where she could slow and expect to notice any Bugbear.

She returned to her station in time to change and prepare for patrols.  She wrote a message explaining events and her thoughts, the brush held tight, upright in her fist, carefully tracing out the words. Her tongue sticking out the side of her muzzle behind the fangs. She sent a runner with her note to another station and a centaur officer she met two years ago.  O*Hwee. Maybe her second friend.  Maybe third.  Her first friend in the city, Verboin, the Gnome tailor had started this.  He had said:  “You could become a citizen, then you would belong here.”  They had met to share a drink of ale and a plate of meats and cheese.

“I monster. They no want.”

“This is Incaras. City of Mercenaries. Anything for a price. You can be a citizen.”

She snorted. “How? No coin. I scary cannibal.”

He laughs.  “That you are. But you can fight, yes?  Big, strong.  The Watch will have you and after a few years you become a citizen.”

She had thought about it. Who would listen? She was arrested and beaten on false accusation, but one listened and looked. A first meeting with fairness, if not justice. She had gone to meet O*Hwee the Centaur.  Buckskin coat, the wide green eyes, flat face, graceful pointed ears. 

“You look, see I be true in past.  Is fact I can be Watch?” Dracna had asked.

“Why? What do you want?” O*Hwee had asked, eyes narrowed.

“Work watch, be citizen?  Part of city clan?” Dracna stumbled. 

“Why?” 

“I want this for Ghenuo.”

“Take the city? Rule it?”  Her face twisted.  Cynical.

“No, they be city.” replied the Ghenid.  It seemed to surprise the Watch Officer. 

“You have to obey the rules.  Can you do that? Do you have honor?”  She asked, green eyes looking straight into the Ghenid's red and orange colored ones, but not as threat.

“Can obey.” Dracna dropped her head down, ears up. Then with wrinkled brow asked “ What be “Honor”?

The Centaur smiled. “Yes, you can join the Watch.  I’ll take you to the Captain.”

Her clan matriarch, M’he, petitioned the tribunes of the district for admission. M’he had liked the idea and Dracna had been taken in by the Watch. Sworn in and trained on laws and basics and was soon noted for fighting skill and promoted to instructor.  Months.  Better at the common tongue, Atan, but still working on it.  Several months spent working the Eastern Ward before she asked to be moved, at the Matriarch's request.  M’he’s plan was to add her Clan into the Watch. A few at a time. Her eyes and ears. Her agents. In every district she can get.  Pack politics. Clan. Moving into positions in the city before any other Clan thinks of it. So she was moved to the Eastern University district.  Under a feline Bahku commander named Osmwoe. He seemed suspicious of her and made her renew her oath of duty to the city, binding her with something like the Soul Chain of her people. This was right to her. The different kinds - Elf, Dwarf, Troll, Human, lizard Octnon, Centaurs, Goblins and even Kobolds - in the city and in the Watch. Working together.  One tribe of many kinds.  Dracna also had O*Hwee teaching the concepts of the four legs, the centaur's. Honor. Building better for the future.  Ghenid don’t have a future, except the Eternal Underworld as ghosts.  Wealth, treasure and slaves or servants bound in Soul Chains,  built up and stored away in the secret personal crypt, sent by ritual to the Underworld to wait on the death and arrival of their master. Building status in the afterlife. Everything treasured and valued is held forever in the Underworld. The highest claim of affection for Ghenid being  “I own you forever.” She had said it of her cubs. Said it to the smaller as they had died of fevers, and to the ghosts of her elder ones in the night, and still held them. Pulling their Chains in the night. Dragging the ghosts to the living world to make them offerings full of the flavor of life, warm, savory and useful things to take back to the cold and dark of the Underworld. The rich and varied flavors, spices and smells of the city. The demon queen, the Goddess, sets the prize before you.  Can you take it? Hold it from others?  Is it trapped or poisoned or set to turn against you? Cunning and wits are valued  -  Apa, being the Ghenid word.  She sees now that Ghenid live to die. They can’t build a city and art without fighting over it and destroying it to hide it in their tombs for eternity, snatching it from rivals. Each to their own and nothing for the future generations.  M’he is different and barely speaks the Ghenid language.  She is starting a path for the people to join the city. On Ghenid terms. But the matriarch doesn’t know or care about Honor.  Or the ways of any of the other kinds.  Dracna sees the wonders.  The rich stories. Poets. Theater. Water in fountains in every district. Treasures of tasty, spicy foods, fine crafted made things, words and art like nothing her people have. She wants this for herself. For future Ghenid. This is a hard prize to win and harder to hold.

Evening patrol. Wandering the streets watching for cutpurses, prowlers and cat burglars.  They stopped at the tavernas, the public houses, the inns. Looking for trouble, drunks and fights. Blenum talked to the door, the keeper or barman. “No troubles yet tonight? Good. Good!  We have a long patrol, but we can keep an ear open to you for the consideration.  Here when you need us, first priority, eh?”   A few gold passing from hand to hand here. A few coin there. They patrol  and take what they want from the kiosks, small grills and left over baked goods.  More of the Sergeant’s special fee. Something for the whole Hand: The Dwarf, Wage.  The humans- Han and Darji, and the dark elf, Svarta. Even a grumbled cut for the filthy monster, Dracna.  She understands this. Very Ghenid. Though the Ghenid way is the strong take from the weak or lesser. Her clan matriarch, the S’oang M’he, demanded half of Dracna’s own pay as a constable of the Watch. This way is interesting. Everyone gets a piece, and stays interested in the game. She could bind them all tight with the Soul Chain, the Ghenid Aedoteerua. Instead it is weak oaths and words of humans and elf, dependent only on their willingness to obey and collect a share, without the cold touch of the ghostly power of the Underworld soul Cahin holding them to her will. 

But she was not just sniffing, listening and watching for the usual clash of combat, cries of injury, loss or fear or the flicker or scent of fire these nights. She had sent ghosts of salves and her elder cubs to find, then to watch and listen at the other Bugbear clubhouses. She looked for the darker shadows and had her own shadow, Krarue, also on alert surveying for Bugbears watching.   And as she had expected, they were there.  Of course each gang was a tribe.  Which one was she seeking?

The next afternoon she went to the street where the fight had been.  She asked about noises. Fights in the night.  The residents cowered back from her. They knew nothing.  She dangled silver coins. One old man said that yes, he had heard some fight the other night.  Someone with an accent shouting.  Folk learn to mind their own business in the less well to do districts, especially when there is a fight in the street in the dark of night.

She knocked at the boarding house door.  The door opened, until the woman saw what was on her stoop. The door slamming and bolted. Dracna called out. “I Dracna. City watch.  Have questions about fight . Strangers with accent.”

“Go away! I know about your kind and their tricks you savage cannibal!  I sent a boy out the back to get the Watch!”

“I from Watch.  Just questions. Ask boarders about fight.”  Dracna hunched and stooped to be shorter, showing the embroidered Watch seal on her cape collar at a peep hole in the door.

“They ain’t here. Gone past 3 days.  Now get! I have an axe and the Watch will be here soon!”

A human male in leathers came around the corner of the boarding house. A sword in his hand.  “Get away from the door monster.” he growled at Dracna.

She pointed to her white leather and short white cape. “I be Watch.”

“I can buy that too and trick simple folk. Not happening here beast!” He made a lunging sword thrust that she dodged.

“You have dueling permit?”

“This is self defense and defending the home, creature.”

“I only ask question!”

“Don’t know and don’t care what kinda trouble those two got into with you and your kind.  They skipped, or are hiding.  Now, get!” Another sword thrust.

Dracna backed away, loosening the cord on the long knife at her thigh. “What kind these ones? Human? Elf?”

“Get!” shouted the man, as he swung the sword at her.

Dracna blocked the swing with the knife, grabbed the arm and pivoted the man into the wall of the house, hard.  “You attack Watch. Very bad.” She dropped her knife and wrestled the sword from the man’s hand as she slammed her body into him, elbow in the stomach and against the wall again. He grunted and she got the sword from him. One clawed hand at his throat, she held and pressed him back.  Bending down to look him in his bulging eyes.  “I be Watch.  Want to know about fight and boarders the other night.”

“Don’t know nothing!” he gasped wild eyed and clawing at her arm.

“You good help for Watch!”  She threw the sword one way and grabbing a handful of shirt and leather threw the man the other way into the street. Picking up her knife, she left as the man got back to his feet and ran for his sword. She noticed a shadowed round headed figure in an alleyway.

The next morning, after patrol, she was called to Osmwoe’s office. The others of the patrol gave her dark angry looks. The captain was a Bahku.  Maned cat people. His golden eyes bored into her as he brought her into his office. He tapped his claws lightly on the table top as he stood.

“Roughing up citizens and asking questions about a brawl?  Not our business Dracna.”

“Two dead bugbear.  Boarders missing. Capture. Or Hide. Something happen.”

Osmwoe picked up a paper and held it to her.  “You ask superiors . You talk to ME.  You don’t send notes to other watch stations and officers.” It was her note sent to O*Hwee.  

“Maybe ransom. Bugbear take captives.”

“Not our business unless someone files a request. But I did get a complaint about a Ghenid pretending to be a constable and assaulting people.”

“One man. He wave sword at me. Defense.”

“You drop it. You leave the good people of the city alone.  We have rules. I expect you to follow them. If there is a complaint or request, we will investigate - but until then, it is not important. Understood?”

She slumped, head and ears down, looking at the floor.  “Yes captain.”

“Yes Captain, what?”

“I leave good people alone.”

Instead of the barracks, she went out onto the street. Going to a market stall in Monster Town that served  creatures like her, and bought the spiced meaty goat dumplings she was fond of. She considered her choices. She had been warned to drop it.  Senic might be drawn in, but he’d want money. If there was any. Not finding the missing. No one in the watch would back her.  Almost no one. She had her shadow due to report once night fell.  She had sent Krarue and other ghosts to watch and listen to the Bugbears. She might pull some chained clan members, if M’he the matriarch would permit it. If M’he saw profit or influence in it.  Those scents were absent. Just trouble with a Bugbear gang, and their Boss.  Because it was a mystery.  Because the Bugbears were upto something with someone no one missed or cared about.  Because Veborin and O'Hwee would say it was the right or honorable thing to do.They weren't even her own kind.  They were useful. But no Chain enforced obedience and connection. Only the strange thing, that they called “Friends”. Like allies but without status and rank. Expecting things without stated demand, or ability to force it.  This adopted tribe and new ways.  Because she was sworn to the protection of the city and it’s residents, and the Bahku's oath binding chewed at her.   If she couldn't hunt the prey in the way of the Watch, she would use the Ghenid way. She had already started with her ghosts seeking the clubhouses, watching and listening.

She watched the buskers performing songs and music, jugglers and a puppet play about the Bahku hero, general Nurr, and her betrayal by the false Bahku prince at the end of the Great War against the evil wizard Bihigan, nearly 300 years ago.  She had a plan as she yawned while headed back to the watch station and the barracks.