As soon as Grimble stepped out of the alley, he found a figure leaning against the bordering highrise wall waiting for him.
"Hey, Uncle Grim!"
"Merrok." Grimble knew who it was without looking.
He looked anyway as the teenage boy walked beside him.
At fifteen years old, he was already six and a half feet tall and built like a swordsman. Shoulders on the path to boulder status. Veins in his biceps like ropes. Hands as big as Grimble's face and then some. He was a poly-race. His mother was half-fae— daughter of a once well known mage. His father was Brokk. The abusive mercenary that guarded Grimble's complex in the southern slums.
As Grimble watched Merrok, he could see hints of his father in his face. He had human colored skin— bronze. But his eyes were that same furnace orange. And his black hair had that same violent luster.
"Oh hell…"
His tusks were coming in.
"I heard you pulled a gun on my dad this morning." Merrok said.
"Who didn't hear that?" Grimble thought with a groan before flipping his collar and exhaling fae-smoke, "We had a small misunderstanding."
"Was it the boots?" Merrok asked as they stopped at a crosswalk.
"…..yes."
"I apologize."
"Wasn't your fault, kid."
"But it was my blood." Merrok replied.
"Fair point." Grimble huffed. "How's school?"
"Boring. The orc gangs finally stopped trying to recruit me. But now they want to fight all the time. It stopped being good practice weeks ago."
Merrok's fae ancestry made him a master of the art of combat. His orc ancestry made him the right type of powerhouse to exploit that art form. He was gliding through life on genetics.
Before he could become a lazy egotistical reincarnation of his father, Grimble stepped in. He made the kid an informant— they split payouts on his cases and he showed him the ins and outs of investigating and intervening…. when neccesary.
"Anyway, I've got some information for you." Merrok said suddenly. Fittingly.
"Not today, kid." Grimble said, "I'm on a case."
"You are? Why didn't you tell me?" Merrok asked.
"I was selected specifically by a big shot."
"Ahhh moving on up, are we?" Merrok asked with a smile.
"I don't know. I'm going to find out."
"Need back-up?" Merrok asked as they crossed a busy street.
"No. But thank you. You do good work."
"Thanks!" Merrok smiled— and any relation to his father faded. The kid looked like a superhero in a graphic t-shirt and baggy jeans, "You do good work too. Practically the only one in this super-city that does. I don't care what anyone says about goblins. Duskhaven is only running because you're here."
Merrok patted him on the back, "You know where to find me."
The boy took off on his own without a care or fear in the world.
"Power is bliss….. sometimes." Grimble thought as he watched him go.
He spent the rest of the walk in silence, all the way west by train and then attempted taxi only to be denied. Goblins were rarely accepted but he wanted to try.
By the time he reached the Enforcement Corpse brick and mortar, his feet stung just a bit.
He stood across the street from the giant building puffing on his fae-wood.
As his mental capacities expanded, he studied the building and its people.
Grimble had been to three Enforcement Corps buildings. Dusk-haven by far was the largest.
More crime meant more funding from Military Guilds and The Governing Enclave.
It didn't stand like a highrise— as many other buildings in Dusk-haven did.
Instead it was wide and of mass. Like a complex gilded by steel and reinforced by massive glowing runes. It was topped by a steel blast done and had entry walls of glass where banners hung conveying messaging of protection, peace and order. A porcelain staircase that seemed as wide as the block itself led up to the entrance.
Corpsmen walked up and down the steps in the midst of their jobs while others conversed and stood watch nearby.
They wore the uniform.
Navy blue armored overcoats, modified knights helms, a Kevlar mesh chassis underneath and a belt of supplies. On their back and hips they carried sheathed swords and rifles of various design.
Enough firepower to turn a high level mage into Swiss cheese and he hadn't even made it inside.
Grimble dropped his fae-wood in the grass and stomped it out. Flowers bloomed there in his wake as he crossed the street, mounted the stairs and headed inside.
He felt eyes on him the whole way. Moira and Maleena were right. He didn't look like the typical goblin. Unfortunately, all that did was make people study him more until they could surmise that he was in fact goblin. But that's all they got. He focused his low quality mana flow to spread goblin based illusory magics all around his gun and suitcase. Nothing perfect or even fully passable, but enough that they didn't notice in passing.
And in next to no time at all, he found himself walking into an elevator flanked by six Enforcers. It was like they saw that he had a gun anyway.
They were big. Surely macrodosing Corpse passable alchemical performance enhancing supplements.
Grimble could feel their eyes on him. He knew the brand of disdain blackening their duty-bound hearts. That same disdain got his brother killed. Unarmed. No crime committed other than having green skin.
Grimble's trigger finger itched. He thirsted for a fae-wood. He didn't risk the reach.
"Morning." He croaked.
"Why are you here?" One asked standing behind him.
"Business."
"Of what kind?"
"I'm a PI."
"And what?" One asked.
"You here investigating us?" Another asked angrily.
"We have Internal Affairs for that."
"And I bet you guys investigating yourselves is completely fair and unbiased."
It slipped out.
It was a gripe he had with the Enforcers ever since his brother. But that wasn't the point. He just made his day a thousand times worse.
"That's how you feel, huh? Well why don't you tell it to the curb after we kick you there." An Enforcer said behind him after they clicked the next floor.
"I'm….. I'm here on a case—"
"DON'T interrupt me!"
"You weren't even—"
"Hey!" An Enforcer grabbed him by the shoulder.
Grimble flinched at the strong grip.
"Stop resisting!"
Another Enforcer grabbed him, sending a shockwave of electricity from his palm through Grimble's body.
Not good.
Mana and electricity didn't interract well.
The electrical current ran through his body in a flash of blinding—constricting, pain. All the while, it interacted with his mana. It interacted with the magic he casted over his weapon and suitcase, causing things to go haywire.
Suddenly he was completely invisible.
"WE'VE GOT A JUMPER!" One of the Enforcers yelled.
Goblin's magic manifested in three forms. From weakest and most common to strongest and most rare, it went, Vanisher, Eater, Jumper. Vanisher's could use their magic to make things disappear. The most talented Vanisher's could make things and people vanish to a pocket dimension known as the Green-Realm. Often called the Greed-Realm. Eater's could consume magic and turn it into strength but they risked becoming False-Orcs or Grendel's.
Jumper's were realm-hoppers. They could manipulate space-time in relation to the Green-Realm and teleport anywhere on earth and beyond. Including the Fae-Realm.
There was a kill on-sight order for Jumper Goblins.
He was just labeled as such in an elevator with seven Enforcer's.
He didn't expect his death to be so— anti-climactic and darkly humorous.
The elevator doors slid open.
Grimble jumped out, flickering in and out of sight with electrical flashes as he stumbled out of the elevator and fell to the floor.
He could hear the click and flash of over a dozen guns trained on him, ready to fire when—
"HOLD YOUR FIRE!"
The Enforcer's stiffened at the sound of the commanding voice.
"Gods dammit! I said hold it!"
"But Chief—"
"That's no Jumper. If it was, you'd never be able to get a clear sight on him. Not to mention, he's no pure blood. He's barely green!"
The Enforcers backed away but kept their guns and swords in hand.
Grimble rolled over slowly and exhaled, trying to ignore the twitching pain of electricity biting his nerves.
As he did, he watched the sea of aggressors part and give way to him.
The Chief.
Alan Vanagand.
Once a Military-Guild Sergeant who was said to have slain three liches all by himself at the ripe age of twenty-two. He had the scars to prove a life of combat. Including an eye patch and missing arm that didn't slow him at all.
He was massive at seven feet tall and equally as dense, wearing nothing but a button up and slacks with a sword sheathed at his hip. He was balding and sported nothing but a grey mustache that swallowed his upper lip.
He stood over Grimble like some human battle-god.
He held out his only hand to him.
"Apologies for the harsh welcome, PI Gripgold. My men are due for a few humanities and restraint seminars." Chief Vanagand said.
"Uh-huh…." Grimble took his hand from the outside so only he had a grip on anything as he stood up.
"I'm glad I found you, though."
"You were expecting me?" Grimble asked.
Chief Vanagand shrugged. "Kind of. Let's step into my office."
He didn't like authority figures. But at that point, anything was worth escaping the Enforcers who looked ready to disobey direct orders and reduce him to ash