“Do I really look so non-threatening?” I asked Koyl as we walked down the street. Koyl chuckled to himself like what I had asked was funny.

“Do you want the real answer?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, barely suppressing my instinct to nod.

“You do, in a sense,” he replied. “Look non-threatening, that is, at least with chest covered up. The way you carry yourself, that blank look you have on your face, and especially the lack of scars on your face make you look like a man who doesn't get into many fights.” The look on my face? I wondered. My typical expression was neutral, with most facial muscles being slack but not loose. I suppose I do present myself as less expressive than someone like Koyl.

“You don't have many scars either,” I commented.

“Yeah but I'm not freakishly large like you are, and I don't carry around a sword that looks like that,” Koyl countered, gesturing towards my sword with his chin. Upon reflection, I realized that most of the humans I had seen who were on the larger side were also more heavily scarred. Size correlated with behavioral violence, or does it simply make them the target of violence more often? I wondered, Maybe I should wear armor that shows more of my torso. Pieces were beginning to fall into place, explaining a lot about people's dispositions towards me at once. But, what's wrong with my sword? I wondered.

Koyl made a small gesture towards a building some thirty meters away, and I looked in the direction he indicated. Even though I couldn't read the sign on the building I knew it was the one we were looking for. It was solid stone, though not made of hewn stone like the buildings in the richer parts of town. Instead, it was just rocks and mortar shaped into a small tower. The first floor was devoid of anything resembling windows, having only a double door for entering and exiting. The second had a few holes in it with metal bars across them, much like a prison. Outside, two guards wearing helmets, breastplates, and holding halberd-style weapons stood in place. Two other men with swords lurked nearby looking inconspicuous, though they were clearly members of the same organization because they also wore similar breastplates. All four men wore identical steel hatchets on their left hips.

“Maybe we should come back later,” Koyl said quietly. I didn't need to look at him to know that he was getting flighty over the guards. I could probably take them, I thought, I haven't ever fought against a halberd, but those breastplates wouldn't help them much. On the other hand Koyl was most certainly not strong enough to overwhelm four men at once, so it made sense that he was hesitant. I approached the building, making no effort to be subtle, and Koyl reluctantly followed behind me. Once we reached the door a halberd lowered in front of me from my left.

“What's your business?” the guard asked. His voice was low, and he had a slight lisp.

“Looking for work,” I replied simply. The guard didn't budge a millimeter, so I turned to make eye contact with him. His shaven face was one of restrained anger.

“Look elsewhere,” he growled. A hand gripped my right shoulder and tried to push me back. My right hand twitched and started to move upwards, but Koyl called out from behind me before I could grab the other guard's arm.

“Hey, we're just looking to make some money,” he said. He changed his accent to sound more like the one the man in the black tunic had used. I need to learn how to do that, I thought, It's much harder in Uwrish. “We've been out on the streets since two nights ago and haven't had a good meal since then either,” he added.

“We were going to try to find work at the Steelheart Company office,” I continued, gauging the reaction to the name. Both guards flinched, though only very slightly, and I heard the two incognito guards shift around as well. “Unfortunately it looks like it was burned down, so we're here now,” I finished. Neither of the halberd guards said anything for a moment, and the hand remained on my shoulder.

“We don't have the kind of work you want in here,” the left guard said. In response I narrowed my eyes, changing from my neutral expression to a slightly more angry one.

“I'd like to be the judge of that,” I countered. The hand on my shoulder shoved me weakly and I didn't budge, making the guard on the right take a half step backwards to keep his balance. The tension in the air instantly went up a notch and I knew that the incognito guards had their hands on their weapons.

“How do I know you're not someone from Steelheart?” the guard asked. It was more of an accusation than a question.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Koyl placated, walked up to the guard with his palms raised. “We've done some work for them before, sure, and we even know a bit about how they run their company, but we don't have any loyalty to them. Only thing good about those zoyzaob was that they paid on time, everything else was crap. Always pushing people aro-”

“Shut up,” the left guard grunted, cutting Koyl off. “You can go in, but you should know that if you try anything in there you won't be coming out.” The halberd raised out of my way, and then the hand on my shoulder reluctantly retracted. Without another word, I walked up to the door and let myself inside.

Unlike the offices of the Steelheart Company, the one I walked into was arranged far more like an inn, with a large open space filled with occupied tables and chairs taking up the majority of the room. Instantly when I entered, all eyes were on me, then when Koyl followed I watched them shift to track him instead. The room was mostly men, with some women mixed in who were identifiable by their different body shapes and longer hair. There wasn't a single unscarred face in the entire establishment, and every single person was armed with at least one weapon: the hatchet I had seen on the guards outside. Most carried more in addition to it.

I walked across the room, taking in every bit of information I could clean from my senses. Beneath the ever-pervasive odor of sweat and urine, there was a stench of blood about the place. The floorboards were stained from countless different fluids, and pockmarked from dozens of blade impacts each. Even the ceiling had stains and cuts. The supporting pillars, made of cracked rocks and mortar, had crude characters carved into them, some of which I recognized as depictions of human genitalia and weaponry. The lanterns that illuminated the building were old and dusty, clearly having been neglected, and cast very little light even when compared to the normal foggy Uwrish lanterns.

“We should leave,” Koyl muttered behind me.

“It was your idea to come here,” I said back quietly. I approached the counter at the back of the room, behind which a very gruff-looking woman stood. Her clothing, if it could be called that, consisted of nothing more than various animal furs stitched together. Wavy black hair sat at shoulder-length, and her yellow eyes locked onto mine unblinkingly. I suppose she would qualify as heavily muscled, I observed, at least by local standards.

“So what animal did your mother seyt to make you so big, boynayshahjh?” she laughed mockingly as I approached. Some of the other humans in the room laughed as well. “Oh your face is so pretty, barely even a mark on it,” she condescended as she leaned in closer to me. “You sure you belong in here and not in a shehpshuwz? I’m sure some ladies would pay top dollar for you, men too.” More laughter ensued. Was it that funny? I wondered, I must have missed the joke. It took me a moment to figure out the word shehpshuwz and relate it to an English word: brothel. Copulation as a service exchange for money, I thought, if I remember correctly it's supposed to be recreational, but wouldn't that result in offspring if done between two opposite-sex humans? I knew the definition, but the concept was quite foreign.

“I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you before,” Koyl chimed in nervously, quickly cutting in front of me. “Would it be too much to ask for your name, miss...?” The woman scowled at Koyl, plain disgust on her face.

“Not my type, shithead,” she hissed, “you should get on outta here before one of the boys snaps you in half. I could tear your nahtay off and ram it down your throat as well, if you'd prefer.” She flashed her right hand from behind the counter, revealing a complex fingered gauntlet with sharp claws. Now that's amusing, I thought, a subversion of the expected result. A few chuckles came from the people behind us, and I felt better about my ability to discern humor. Someone called out “Tell him Taaljheyz!” from one of the tables.

“Taaljheyz is a beautiful name either way,” Koyl said politely, dipping his head in some kind of bow. “My friend and I were wondering if there is any work here that we might be able to take on. We were also interested in your organization in general.” Taaljheyz shorted, then reached across the table and smacked Koyl upside the head, making him stumble to his right. More laughter rang out.

“So you and pretty boy here are, what, lovers?” she scoffed. “The crew ain't that kind of place, though if your friend is taking offers, there are some in here that might want to spend some time with him.” My body tried to send me feelings of revulsion at the final comment that Taaljheyz made, for some reason. My rational mind, on the other hand, had several relevant questions.

“How much money would that ear-” I began to ask, but I was interrupted by the sound of the front door smashing open.

Everyone turned to look at the commotion practically in unison. A familiar-looking man walked inside, wearing tattered black clothing and sporting an expression of pure rage on his bald face. He stomped across the room, watching everyone, then paused when he saw me. I didn't expect him to recover from that so quickly, I thought, he must have gotten help from someone.

“You!” he yelled. In the blink of an eye, the knife that I had put into his chest just half an hour ago was in his hand. “You really screwed up now you stupid shit,” he swore, “you just try to pull the same crap you did back in the street in here.” The man was still five meters from me, so I slowly drew my sword while watching his every movement but took no other action.

“You're gonna pay for that door you gowleyt,” Taaljheyz growled behind me.

“Shut up ngoyth,” the man swore back, “you know what this yeyhhayseytay did to me just a while ago? I've got business with him, and we're conducting it right here.” I was frankly amazed that the man would come back for a rematch after being so easily overpowered, but I felt a feeling of gleeful anticipation building in my chest. It wants to fight more, I thought as I probed my body’s thoughts.

“What, did he forget to say thank you after you stole his wallet?” Taaljheyz mocked. Does she do anything but mock people? I wondered.

“He cut me open like a noyw, then shoved my knife into my chest!” the man screamed back. With his free hand, he ripped off his shirt, revealing an ugly series of scars around his sternum and upper abdomen. I could only assume that they were from the knife extraction because the scar I made on his belly wasn't nearly so jagged. Taaljheyz laughed maniacally, then slapped the desk she stood behind, which only further angered the man. Several other laughs came from tables around the room.

“Taaljheyz,” I said calmly, “does your organization have any rules surrounding this sort of combat?” The room went quiet all of a sudden, which was something I never liked much.

“I don't run the place pretty boy,” she said, “if what you're asking is if you'll be in some trouble with me for chopping up this idiot, the answer is no. However, nobody is going to be jumping in to save you either, and there aren’t no guards around here to break up the fight.” I noted the double negative, but the way she had phrased her sentence in Uwrish made it clear it was for emphasis, not reversal of the first negative.

“And if I kill him?” I asked. A few whispers sounded from the quiet room. Koyl started tapping me on the shoulder rapidly, but I didn't respond. Then, the sound of footsteps broke the silence. I didn't turn away from my opponent in case he decided to ambush me, but I tracked the movement as it came down a flight of stairs to my right and entered the room.

“What's all this commotion Taaljheyz?” a deep male voice asked in a very polite tone. The eyes of the room were no longer on myself and the robber, but on whoever had just descended behind me.

“Little spat between a zhoyweyver and our regular pain in the ass Jhihroyjh,” Taaljheyz replied in a tone that sounded uncharacteristically respectful. “Nothing you have to concern yourself with, sir,” she added.

“No, I think I'll watch,” the male voice said. “This looks like it might be interesting.”