Once again, Mougin's attention was taken up by differences. One familiar face nearby, and another unfamiliar face. But why only 3 workers? Compared to the immense scale of the docks, their work was tiny. Furthermore, the security was stronger. The dock didn't have much security, and they just sort of let Mougin through when he said he was looking for work. The security for this operation was clearly much more thorough.

The minotaur stared at the guard. His clothes were thicker, and he was holding something. Armour and a weapon, presumeably. He didn't know what armour or weapon though, because he was never interested. Beastmen tended to rely on magic and their own bodies, so he didn't even know where to start with what the guard was wearing. Regardless of how protective the armour was, surely the absence of head protection would pose its own challenges?

What, the weapon? What about the weapon? He didn't know a single thing about human weapons. Real men only use their fists, or so his father had told him. Although, Mougin didn't really agree with that...

The brown furred minotaur snapped out of his reverie as instructions were yelled. Right, work. Perhaps the exhaustion was getting to him. He quickly got back into the groove, picking up boxes and handing them down to the forklifts. When there were no forklifts he moved them himself, drawing a little strength from the earth to alleviate the burden. The work was somewhat easier than this afternoon's, so he had a little more strength to spare. He paused whilst holding a crate and scanned the area, wondering how his fellow workers were doing.

---

---

...The brown furred minotaur snapped out of his reverie as instructions were yelled. Right, work. Perhaps the exhaustion was getting to him. He quickly got back into the groove, picking up boxes and handing them down to the forklifts. When there were no forklifts he moved them himself, drawing a little strength from the earth to alleviate the burden. The work was somewhat easier than this afternoon's, so he had a little more strength to spare. He paused whilst holding a crate and scanned the area, wondering how his fellow workers were doing.

---

While Mr. Silum and the man in all black combat armor stood off in the distance talking quietly among themselves, Mougin and the two others unloaded the ship.

The bald man with cybernetic arms handled the smallest crates, though he kept insisting that the heaviest, densest materials were always in the crates he chose. After the first twenty minutes he had to stop to rest his legs. While resting he was sure to let everyone know what he would be spending his money on, a set of cybernetic legs to match his arms.

The pale skinned lady in all black clothes was actually the one carrying the largest crates, and she made it look effortless. Without a sound, she would grab entire crates with one hand each and slowly walk them off the boat. In fact, she typically took two at a time, one in each hand. The way she carried them, made no sense given her size, and the way she gripped them. It was as if she were escorting giant balloons, not solid metal containers.

As the ship was nearly unloaded, blue flashing lights appeared on the docks. The source of the lights were two police officers, each riding their own hover cycles. One of these officers looked familiar to Mougin; it was the same officer that spoke with him the day before. The other officer, was clean shaven with a standard haircut.

"Sorry to bother you Mr. Silum." the clean cut officer called out, as he turned off his lights and dismounted from his bike. Officer Charles, as he had introduced himself the day before, did not turn off his flashing lights as he dismounted his bike.

Meanwhile, back on the boat, Mougin heard a feint thud coming from inside one of the larger containers...

Mougin almost thought he didn't hear it. He supposed he could have ignored it, but curiosity got the better of him this time. There was a lull in the proceedings anyway.

The minotaur sauntered onto the ship and looked around for the crate he heard moving. It was difficult, now that it wasn't making noise anymore. Mougin breathed deep and asked the wind to carry sound to him. Another foundational technique of the Bighorn tribe. Though it was easier to use on the wind swept plateaus, it should be enough to satisfy his curiosity. Various conversations floated through the air. Officer Charles was talking with his current employer (perhaps he should greet him later on), the man with metal arms was talking with their lithe (but apparently very strong) co-worker, and he could even here the beeps and whirs of the machinery busily ferrying crates to and fro. He ignored all of that and focused on the crates. Soon enough he could hear a light thumping from one of them, and he walked towards it.

The mystery deepened as he got closer. A familiar scent wafted from the crate, the scent of home. But if that was the case, why was it moving? There seemed to be crying coming from the container too. Now he had to know. Briefly, he contemplated if it was worth risking the ire of his employer to simply satisfy his own curiosity.

The minotaur's broad fingers pried the opening of the crate, lifting. The lid of the crate opened with a loud crack and revealed the 'cargo'. Children were inside, very obviously beastmen children, in various states of distress. Mougin was very confused.

---

---

...The mystery deepened as he got closer. A familiar scent wafted from the crate, the scent of home. But if that was the case, why was it moving? There seemed to be crying coming from the container too. Now he had to know. Briefly, he contemplated if it was worth risking the ire of his employer to simply satisfy his own curiosity.

The minotaur's broad fingers pried the opening of the crate, lifting. The lid of the crate opened with a loud crack and revealed the 'cargo'. Children were inside, very obviously beastmen children, in various states of distress. Mougin was very confused.

---

The beast children looked up at Mougin in surprise. Their crying quickly came to a stop as confusion took over. Why was another beast person looking down at them? Was he here to rescue them? Or was he with the bad guys?

Now that Mougin could see the captors, he could also see a collar on each of their necks. He had heard about such collars once. They were were designed with a magic curse that kept the wearer from turning into their beast form, and it also dampened their strength and magical powers while in human form as well. Basically, they were as defenseless as a non-magical human. Even worse, removing these things without deactivating them first would result in death for the wearer.

Then came a quiet voice that Mougin had not yet heard. "What do you think we should do?" It was the pale skinned girl. She floated in midair, eye level with Mougin, also looking into the crate. "They are beast-folk like you yes?" This was the first time she had spoken since Mougin laid eyes on her.

Meanwhile, outside the ship, Mr. Silum was assuring the clean cut officer that everything was normal. Their last ship had arrived a little later than scheduled, that was all. The officer accepted his explaination without question and looked as if he was about to leave.

But then Officer Charles stepped forward. "Even so, a ship arriving after the dock master has gone is out of the normal. Would you mind if I saw the manifest and had a look inside?" The other officer looked angry with his partner, but he didn't say anything. The Boy Scout was doing what he always does, making a fuss about nothing.

Mr. Silum responded back with confidence. "I have the manifest here." He took out a tablet and turned it on. It pulled up a manifest document right away. "However, there isn't much left to see on the boat itself. Almost everything is already inside the warehouse, and unfortunately, you would need a warrant for that."

Mr. Silum's armored body guard, shifted his weight slightly as he listened to the conversation. This caught Officer Charles' eye, but it wasn't enough to cause alarm. However, it was enough to raise suspicion.

Back on the boat, the shorter coworker with mechanical arms stepped into the opening of the boat. "What are you two looking at?" He asked clumsily from across the large room.

That was what he wanted to know. At a glance it was fairly obvious what they were looking at; a collar created for containing beastmen was upon beastmen children, who were inside of a crate. But Mougin wasn't entirely sure why they were here, his tired brain not working quick enough to glean an answer. People weren't cargo, as far as he knew, but the box was on a cargo ship, so it was presumeably cargo. For what, though? Or rather, to where? To the not particularly worldwise minotaur, this was a strange turn of events.

So, he decided to ask. And conveniently, there were two people here to answer him.
"What profit is there in ferrying children?" He wondered aloud.
That was probably his most pertinent question.

---

---

...So, he decided to ask. And conveniently, there were two people here to answer him.
"What profit is there in ferrying children?" He wondered aloud.
That was probably his most pertinent question.

---

Floating in the air, next to Mougin, the pale skinned, black haired young woman answered his wondering question. She spoke softly and without much emotion. "Slavery. Most likely."

"The hell are you two doing?" The bald muscular man said as he closed the gap between them. "Whatever's in that crate, it's not worth crossing the mob." He stopped a few feet away, outside of anyone's reach. "You need to put the lid back on that crate, and forget what you saw. Or we're all in for it."

Meanwhile, on the dock below, Officer Charles was handing the ships manifest back to Mr. Silum. "I hear you, sir, but I'm still going to have a look inside that ship. It won't take long." Not waiting for a response, he started to walk in the direction of the ship's wide open door, the one Mr. Robot Arms entered through.

The black armored guard moved quickly to intercept, but Mr. Silum's words stopped him. Officer Charles also paused to listen. "You can absolutely look around the ship. However, you'll still need a warrant to open any locked containers. Privacy must be respected after all."

Looking over his shoulder, Officer Charles simply nodded in understanding. He had some sharp words for the business man, but he held his tongue, for now...

And so, as Mougin and his coworkers were just starting to debate their next move, they were already running out of time. Officer Charles was quickly approaching. Right on his heals, Mr. Silum's body guard was looking ready to pounce. And bringing up the rear was Mr. Silum himself and the second officer.

Mougin is aware of what slavery is (though he wasn't really aware about how people profited from it), and he knows what a mob is. He doesn't know what the mob is, though. Even if it was only a one word difference, it seemed to hold a much larger significance. Another annoying quirk of human linguistics.

The minotaur sighed and closed his eyes. Understanding was one thing he was bad at, but he had always been a good listener. The wind brought the sounds nearby towards his ear. More information to glean from. More to understand. Already he was making new associations in his brain. The metal-armed man feared The Mob, thus their employer was probably part of that group, whatever they were. Mougin and the metal-armed man were of similar status, from what he could see, so The Mob clearly had significant influence. Yet a member of theirs deferred to officer Charles, an enforcer of the Law. And even then, it seemed that The Mob were active outside of the city itself, as far away as his own home continent.

He felt as if he was catching a glimpse of a large tangled web of connections. As an outsider it was hard for him to say where to step. Which lines were safe to cross and which would thrust him into the spider's mouth? But, truth be told, it didn't matter that much to him. His people's opinions were that humans always overthought. Mougin thought that his peers could stand to think some more, but he agreed. His understanding of spoken language was shaky, and the deceptions they weaved, obvious or obfuscated, didn't help at all. But he was starting to be able to see through the smoke.

At its core, the metal-armed man's statement was borne of concern for his position in society. To live, one needs food. In this city, one bought food with gold. For gold, one had to work. Control the work, control food, control the individual. Their mutual employer, Mr. Silum, was the one who gave them work, thus it was obviously possible for them not to do so. And apparently he also had the means to prevent future work. But did that matter to Mougin? No. His people were of the wilds; if he needed food, he was confident that he could find it. But employment was only one part of the puzzle, and perhaps Mr. Silum and The Mob could make sure he would never have a comfortable stay in Tempum city. Did that matter to Mougin? No. There were many nations of men, and while there were some less friendly to beastmen than others, he had come to this city mostly because of its proximity. True, it would be difficult to live outside of a city, and quality of the food in the wild was vastly inferior to what human chefs made. True, if he went through with this stunt, Mr Silum, or The Mob, or anyone else could end his life. Cut his journey just when it had begun. But again, none of that mattered. His mind was made up. He had a choice, and these little ones did not. In front of humans, in front of his own, he would never be the lesser man.

Mougin opened his eyes. The plan was coming together in his mind, slowly. But time was not kind. He would have to work it out while he acted.
"If you do not wish to be involved, then do not be." He said, rising to his feet. "All that I ask is that you do not interfere."
It was best if neither of his two co-workers involve themselves in the forthcoming events. Implication of some kind was inevitable, and nothing they did would be able to soften the blow. Not to achieve what he wanted to achieve. He stared down at the lid of the container in his hands, the overheard words of Mr. Silum echoing in his ears.

Mougin leaned over the edge of the container. He whispered some comforting words to them in the mother tongue, before gently placing back on top of the container. Then, he slowly lifted the crate up above his head, letting it rest on his shoulders like a yoke. It was... extremely heavy, and very large, making it extremely awkward to maneuver. His head was bowed forward, making it difficult to see where he was going. He knew his strength wouldn't last very long. But that was fine - if he timed it correctly, he wouldn't be holding it for very long. And besides, the plan wasn't relying on brute strength, but humankind's beloved deception. He was relying on his previous experiences in the city, brief as they were, along with some tenuous connections he had not had the opportunity to check. The plan was built on shaky foundations, but it was the best he could come up with on short notice. It was simple, and held little consideration for his future in the city. But he didn't really mind. If he succeeded then he would be safe enough, and the children would be alright too.

If he failed, then so be it.

---

---

...It was... extremely heavy, and very large, making it extremely awkward to maneuver. His head was bowed forward, making it difficult to see where he was going. He knew his strength wouldn't last very long. But that was fine - if he timed it correctly, he wouldn't be holding it for very long. And besides, the plan wasn't relying on brute strength, but humankind's beloved deception. He was relying on his previous experiences in the city, brief as they were, along with some tenuous connections he had not had the opportunity to check. The plan was built on shaky foundations, but it was the best he could come up with on short notice. It was simple, and held little consideration for his future in the city. But he didn't really mind. If he succeeded then he would be safe enough, and the children would be alright too.

If he failed, then so be it.

---

Mr. Robot Arms looked shocked as Mougin began to lift the large metal container. "What the hell...?"

Then came an exasperated sigh from behind, and suddenly, the once heavy object became 100 times lighter, still heavy for the average person, but incredibly light for Mougin.

On the back side of the large metal box, the pale skinned woman floated. Her legs were crossed, as if sitting mid-air, and she rested one hand on the side of the container. Her small frame was completely hidden behind the large obstruction. Robot Arms knew she was back there, but anyone else entering the ship would not. They would only see Mougin, effortlessly holding a massive object above his head.

Speaking of people entering the ship...

Officer Charles appeared in the entryway. The sight of Mougin stopped him breifly in his tracks. Then he started walking forward again, cautiously. "Hey there big guy. I didn't think I'd see you so soon. What do you got there?"

Mr. Silum's body guard was right behind Charles, as the officer spoke. By the end of his question, Mr. Silum and the second officer also appeared in the doorway. Mr. Silum eyes bulged when he saw Mougin. Was he suprised to see him lifting such a heavy container? Or was he worried, because he knew what was inside? Or both?

In any case, the finely dressed gentleman composed himself quickly. He didn't speak however. He too seemed interested in what Mougin had to say for himself. He and everyone else in the room waited, in silent anticipation.

Mougin was a rather withdrawn child. He often shunned labourous chores for exploring the nooks and crannies of the mountain. He did it so often that it was truly baffling that his parents hadn't yet taken him to task, and it was equally bewildering to his peers that he didn't simply disappear on one of his expeditions. Regardless, he had been told by the elders that his youthful truancy would lead to a weak body. He had scoffed then, but he couldn't scoff now.

Every step was a struggle. To balance, to endure, to make sure his path was straight, everything. Really, he hadn't thought this out. He might not make it up to shore, which would put a serious hamper in his plan. Miraculously the package became larger. He turned back to see the woman concentrating, hand on the metal container. A new kind of magic, it seemed. Her interference made her an accomplice, which could potentially complicate matters. But that was her perogative, and maybe she had her own way out.

If they both made it out of this in one piece, he would ask to learn her magic.

Mougin marched forward. Officer Charles had already arrived nearby, Mr. Silum in tow. How convenient. The minotaur silently stepped down the gangway, reflecting on his plan on the cusp of its execution. It utilised several things he had learned thus far from his prior experience in this city, mostly things from yesterday. From almost being stolen from he learned a few things about how crimes were identified - Officer Charles was reluctant to arrest the teenagers because he himself hadn't seen the wrongdoing. The teenagers would not admit it and Mougin himself didn't either, because the attempt was unsuccessful. He wasn't sure what a 'crime' was, but the teenagers seemed to believe it could be seen as one. So they employed deceit, and pleaded innocent.

While had no time to check whether 'slavery' was a crime or not, Mr Silum acted like the teenagers he had met yesterday. He put on a mask of innocence, unaware that Mougin was looking at his wrongdoings. It was a crime, then, or something that could be interpreted as one. If the Officer of the Law did not see the crime occur, it was difficult to prove the wrongdoing existed. If he did not see any evidence, he couldn't be sure of a crime. Therefore, the first step of the plan was to produce evidence.

The minotaur shrugged the metal container off his shoulder and he felt the weight of it rapidly increase as he removed the box from the woman's touch. Mougin winced in his mind; this would not be comfortable for the children. But it had to be done. He let the box fall to the ground with a loud clang and the lid popped off towards Officer Charles and the group. Several children came tumbling out of the metal receptacle. Before anyone could react, Mougin took 2 confident steps forward and initiated the next step in his plan.

The Mob was an object of fear for the metal-armed man. If they could touch Mougin's home, plunder its resources, take its people, then they clearly had immense influence. But if that was the case then why the pretense of innocence? Why did Mr Silum fear the law? It seemed clear to him that, while The Mob was not above the Law, they had the ability to go around The Law. Even if Mougin did not commit a crime in the eyes of the Law, The Mob may press charges against him their own way. He needed to be under the protection of the Law, to protect himself from The Mob. Therefore, his second step was to perform a crime.

Mougin came to a stop in front of Officer Charles and raised a clenched fist, bringing it down on top of the officer's head in one smooth motion to thump him hard on the head. He was still unsure of what exactly constituted a crime, but he was sure that unbidden violence was one of those things. His blow was firm, to prove his seriousness, but he had tried to be gentle to his aqcuantance.

It was really a strange coincidence that Charles would be the one at the dock tonight; if Mougin made it out of this in one piece, he would have to buy him lunch.

---

---

...It was really a strange coincidence that Charles would be the one at the dock tonight; if Mougin made it out of this in one piece, he would have to buy him lunch.

---

Officer Charles watched as the hulking minotaur walked toward him, after producing some very damning evidence of slavery on this boat. What he did next (or attempted to do rather) was raise a fist above the officer's head. With very little malice, but a clear intent to strike, he then lowered the fist. Of course, this was far too telegraphed and the officer had seen way too many combat situations. The strike swiped at air, as Officer Charles took a boxers sidestep to avoid it.

"What the hell was that?" He asked immediately. But before Mougin could respond, the officer simply shook it off. "And who are these kids?" He asked his question while still eying Mougin, but he turned his head halfway toward Mr. Silum. The question was clearly aimed at the mob boss himself.

Mr. Silum answered with a practiced tongue. "To be honest officer, I don't know. As you saw, they weren't on the manefest. Maybe the captain here can explain it to all of us." His statement was pointed toward his armored body guard, who it seemed, also happened to be the captain of the boat.

"Yeah..." The man started. "I was attacked by pirates, on my way back from Lothiga City. That's why I arrived so late tonight. They must have thought I would be easy picking, because they attacked without hesitation. Dumb move on their part. I disabled their ships weapons and then opened my docking bay so that they could board my ship. I'm not one to run away from a fight. There were about thirty of them, and they didn't stand a chance." The armored captain took a pause, as if waiting for praise from his captive audience. "Anyways, after I took care of them. I took some crates from their ship, including that one." He pointed to the crate the kids had just fallen out of. "I didn't know what was inside any of them. I swear."

"Did you just admit to murder and looting?" Officer Charles asked, point blank.

"He did." Mr. Silum interjected. "But since all this happened on international waters, you don't have jurisdiction. At least, that's how it sounds to me."

Officer Charles' face twisted with displeasure. "You're right. But it is my responsibility to pass on this information to those that will be investigating this. You got surveillance footage to back up your story?"

"Of course," The armored captain/guard answered merrily.

Charles sighed and took a moment to think before making his next move. "Alright Jimmy, I trust you to gather the footage. I'm taking these kids to the station. I have to get them back home."

"No problem Charles" the second officer answered dully.

"Of course, of course." Mr. Silum said cheerily. "As soon as we opened their container and found them, we would have brought them to you anyways. This just saves us the trouble." He then looked at Mougin with a gleam in his eye. "How about you help him with that crate Mougin? You can go with him to the station too. He may need your help translating. They look like your kind." He then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out three gold disks. "These have twenty coins each. It's more than we agreed upon, but I like the initiative you showed today. Stop by my restaurant any time you're looking for work."

He then pressed the three disks together and threw them across the room toward Mougin. The disks remained stuck together with a magnetic force, making them easy to catch.

Mougin tilted his head but still took the money. He had tried to keep an open mind about this plan, and it had somewhat gone his way, but there were several lacking elements. His inexperience soured things, perhaps. Nonetheless, some outcomes had been achieved, and that was good enough. He didn't believe the problem had been solved, but he should've known things wouldn't have been this simple.

There was nothing for it, then. Mougin picked up the crate and followed Officer Charles. The metal container was lighter without its contents, and he felt the stone under his feet support his strength. He didn't really have the energy to think about the repercussions of his actions, so he didn't. Tomorrow's matters could wait for tomorrow.

Mougin trailed after the officer, making sure the children didn't lag behind.

---

---

...He didn't really have the energy to think about the repercussions of his actions, so he didn't. Tomorrow's matters could wait for tomorrow.

Mougin trailed after the officer, making sure the children didn't lag behind.

---

An hour after Mougin left with Officer Charles and the children...

Mr. Silum took a sip of his wine. He sat in the same chair where he had sat when he had dinner with Mougin.

To his left, sitting in one of the "normal" sized chairs, his armored body guard / ship captain set his mug down with a thud. "So, do you want me to take care of that big oaf for you? I can make it look like an accident."

Mr. Silum gently set his own drink down. "He did cost us quite a bit of money in merchandise, but no Bradly... not yet at least. He's under the eye of that boy scout right now." He then picked up his drink once more and stood up at the same time. His chair slid out from behind him as he drank the last sip from the glass. Then, without warning, he threw the glass across the room; it shattered against the wall.

With that, Mr. Silum exited the room. Leaving his armored underling, Bradly, behind to stew in the moment. The shaggy haired man did so with a subtle grin on his face. With one hand he pulled out a small smartphone-like device from his shirt pocket, with the other he took another gulp from his mug. The display on the device in his hand showed a picture of Mougin, from the waist up.

Humans were quite a wayward bunch. That wasn't quite the right word for it, but Mougin didn't know how else to put it. He had presented the 'case' in a straightforward manner, and believed that the question of crime and criminal were rather obvious. But apparently not. It seemed that there were several holes in the 'case', and he wanted to solve these unexpectedly close-to-home issues, he would have to fill these holes. It seemed to be human nature to twist and stretch every situation they experienced, to better suit their goals.

Things were simpler at home. He did consider going back to hopefully fix things back in his homeland, but that probably wasn't a wise idea. The children were from several different tribes, which implied a unified and complicated operation - two words that were the antithesis of the tribes living on Numgam. The tribes largely kept to themselves, as widespread as the land itself was. To remove an operation of this type required a level of cooperation that was beyond the tribes. Perhaps one with the charisma of one of their legendary leaders could do it. But that was charisma that Mougin didn't have, and besides, it would take some time to return to Numgam. Sending a letter was faster, but there were few on the continent who could read. No options, and no time. He would have to do what he could from the city.

With that in mind, Mougin decided to explore the city. It had been roughly a week since the incident, and he had found out some things he should probably have known a long time ago. He had since gained an 'ID', as it was known, and had been back to the strange bank keeper to deposit his savings. The proceeds for his 'account' came from his continued stint of work on the docks.

After some exploration into the city, Mougin found out some more pertinent facts. The Law protected all humans in the city, to varying degrees. Vagabonds enjoyed the least amount of protection, as they weren't exactly considered part of the city. Strange, considering they could still live and find work there. Nonetheless, some of the city's laws still applied to them. It was because of 'Human rights', as he was told, and whether it applied to non-humans or not seemed to be a topic of debate in other countries.

Second up on the list was those with IDs, like himself. Having passed some kind of threat assessment, the city itself vouched for their identity and they were allowed a higher degree of privilege compared to vagabonds. The relative ease of entry made it so that the privileges themselves weren't a significant step higher than normal, but it was significant. Some higher end traders refused him entry until he showed his ID.

Last on the list was the citizenry, who enjoyed the greatest protection the city could offer. Citizenship was a long, drawn out affair which could take years for outsiders to achieve, if the information he had gleaned was accurate. But in return, citizens enjoyed the greatest privilege. They were allowed in all places of the city and were protected the most by the Law. Most citizens lived closer to the center of Tempum city, and security was generally better there - there were generally more officers patrolling the area, and it was generally cleaner. Generally speaking, the farther out you went, the less you saw of the Law, though not for lack of trying. But that was where his explorations had stopped.

Mougin breathed deep and rose from the floor. He had still been using the hostel, since it was adequate for his purposes. Furthermore, he found out it was situated close to the edge of Tempum city, and was thus more useful for his goal. If he was to gather more evidence against Mr. Silum, who skirted around the Law, he should be looking for areas outside of its reach. It was time for him to truly explore the shadowed streets of Tempum city.

The minotaur exited the hostel and took breathed in the evening air. It was the day before the 'weekend', a 2 day period where he didn't have to work. The perfect time for him to explore. Mougin sauntered out and made his way towards the most infamous street in Tempum city, hoping he could find something to work with.

---

---

...The minotaur exited the hostel and took breathed in the evening air. It was the day before the 'weekend', a 2 day period where he didn't have to work. The perfect time for him to explore. Mougin sauntered out and made his way towards the most infamous street in Tempum city, hoping he could find something to work with.

---

The evening air was covered by a blanket of fog. Between that and the shadows cast by the surrounding buildings, there were many ally ways which were too dark to see down. Yet even these dark allys were as alive as the streets which Mougin walked, because within them, even darker shadowy figures shifted about.

"Hey, Majin" A familiar voice called out. "Wanna get a drink with me and the boys?" It was the bald man he'd worked with those many nights ago, the one with the cybernetic enhanced arms. Only now, he had the legs to match. The two had worked together on the docks a few more times since then, but he'd only ever mentioned his name once, and when he did, there was loud construction that drowned his words out completely.

The two burly men on either side of Mougin looked familiar as well, but they weren't dockworkers, not that Mougin knew at least. Perhaps he'd passed them in the streets?

So here Mougin stood, being invited to have a drink with a man that could never get his name quite right and his two buddies who Mougin knew even less. What better way to start an investigation than with a few liquored up knuckleheads?

Mougin considered the offer for a moment. And then another moment. And then another half moment.
"Ok." He said.
He, who has never been exposed to alcohol, has no idea why people would want to go drinking together. Surely one could drink water whenever they wanted? But it appeared to be a social activity, so why not? It was a good opportunity to learn about human customs.

The minotaur lumbered over to join the burly workers. He wasn't as uncomfortable as he used to be, partially because he was more used to the city, and partially because these men were closer in size to him than other humans. It was almost like being with his brothers.

---

---

...The minotaur lumbered over to join the burly workers. He wasn't as uncomfortable as he used to be, partially because he was more used to the city, and partially because these men were closer in size to him than other humans. It was almost like being with his brothers.

---

"Alright boys!" The man with the cybernetic limbs exclaimed, as he smacked Mougin on the back. If Mougin was normal size, the smack would have dealt some damage. "Let's get a move on!"

"Hell yeah!" yelled out one of the other men. This man had a huge black beard that hid most of his facial features. In fact, he had hair on almost every exposed part of his body. Perhaps he was a beast-folk in human form?

The other man simply grunted in affirmation. He too wore a burly beard, but his was white, and not as long. This man was most likely a regular human. He was also larger than the two others, almost eye level with Mougin.

As Mougin and the three men walked down the street, people made sure to move out of their way. They weren't growling at people or anything, it was just their shear size that everyone seemed to fear.

"Magin, right? Do you like throwing axes?" Mr. Black Beard asked. "Milo's Tavern has a weekend axe throwing league, and Rozzlo here needs a partner." The white haired man (Rozzlo as it would seem) looked at Mougin with a blank stare, not menacing, but cold.

Mougin stared back at the man named Rozzio for a time. The black bearded man (it was his first time seeing a human with so much of their fur intact, he had almost thought it couldn't grow so thickly) and his mispronunciation aside, Rozzio was acting a little strange. Strange for a human, that is. It was... intruiging.
"Alright, I will participate." He agreed.

This was a good chance to see what other people were like in detail, and he didn't want to pass up the opportunity to see what other human activities were like. He knew what an axe was, it was for chopping down trees. How did one throw such a tool, and what would they be thrown at? Mougin was very curious indeed.

---

---

... He knew what an axe was, it was for chopping down trees. How did one throw such a tool, and what would they be thrown at? Mougin was very curious indeed.

---

The four large "men" arrived at the tavern as the sun touched the horizon. Not that they had seen the sun in a while, the city's tall buildings had long since put it out of view, except for the occasional glimpse. Even still, the sky above glowed with a golden orange hue.

The metal door to the tavern slid open as they approached it, the way most doors opened in this city. Inside, however, it looked more rustic, with wooden floors and wooden furniture. Though, something about the wood looked abnormal to Mougin. It was all coated in a unscratched varnish. This added to the strength of the wood, even though it created an almost 'plastic' appearance.

"Axe throwing doesn't start for another hour." Mr. Robot pointed out as they walked into the room. "Let's get some drinks in us!" People parted ways as Mougin and his crew lumbered toward the bar.

"You fellas ain't gonna start any trouble tonight are ya?" The bartender asked, as they all stepped up to her bar. She was larger than any woman than Mougin had seen since he arrived in Tempum, the same hieght as Mr. Robot. He was the shortest out of the four, but still large by normal human standards. "Especially you, Bruny."

"Shit Molla, you know we're not the ones who start the shit. We just finish it!" Mr. Robot (aka Bruny) answered back. "Anyway, first round's on me guys." He then slammed a gold chip down on the bar. "Four, large, brown ales, ma lady!"

The bartender, Molla, picked up the gold chip with her gloved hand. The small display on the back of it showed a number. "Your short." She answered dryly.

"Damn it Molla." Bruny replied. But he didn't say anything else. He just tossed her another coin, which she also caught in her gloved hand.

After a quick glance at her display, she grunted and walked away to pour their drinks.

"Hey, Magin" Black Beard said quietly, as he elbowed Mougin for his attention. "Why's ole Bradly staring at you?" He was right. At the other end of the bar, Mougin saw a familiar face, the body guard from a week ago at the docks.

When Bradly caught Mougin's eye, he turned back his mug, finishing the rest of its contents. He then slammed it down, stood from his bar stool, and began to walk in their direction.

Mougin was wondering the same thing. They had some history, of course, the man being Mr. Silum's bodyguard, but that was one whole week ago. Surely that was enough time for whatever ill feelings to pass? Apparently not, as the man in question asked him a rather hostile question.
"And just what is a furry gobshite like you doing here?" The man said gruffly.
It took Mougin a few moments to realise he was talking to him. The bearded man's full face of fur was significantly more furry than most his kind. But the bodyguard was only looking at him.
"I'm drinking." Mougin replied, borrowing the terminology of his companions.
"With a full pint?"

The minotaur looked down and acknowledged the fact that he hadn't drunken any of the foamy beverage before him. He had been waiting for the suds to settle, and it wasn't doing so very quickly. Mougin quietly lapped at the drink, dipping his large tongue into the straw-coloured liquid. It was bitter, and not much else. It wasn't that far off of water, and he would've just preferred to drink fresh water. But someone had purchased it for him, so he was obliged to drink it. He continued lapping up the beverage as the bodyguard went through his rant.

"You have some real balls to stick around in this city after the stunt you pulled." The man snarled. "You think think Charles can cover your ass forever?"
His vitriol clashed against Mougin's blank stare, both parties too stubborn to relent. Although in Mougin's case, he was mostly contemplating the unending bitterness of his drink.
"Fuck it, I'll give you a chance." The man said, breaking the staredown.

He paced over to the axe throwing range and snatched an axe from another man, throwing it down the length of the hall to smack cleanly into the target.
"Come up to the competition, beasty boy! Prove that you're a man and not a loser!" He yelled at him.
Mougin continued lapping at his drink. It was a strange way of saying it, considering he was a minotaur, but he could understand a challenge when he heard one.
"Ok." He rumbled.
He slowly tipping the rest of the drink into his mouth before turning to Rozzlo, who would apparently be his axe throwing companion.
"Come, let us throw axes." He said to him.
Not that Mougin knew much about throwing axes.

---

---

He slowly tipping the rest of the drink into his mouth before turning to Rozzlo, who would apparently be his axe throwing companion.
"Come, let us throw axes." He said to him.
Not that Mougin knew much about throwing axes.

---

The official axe throwing competition was still a little less than an hour away, but Bradly didn't seem to care. He stood tall, watching with glossy eyes, as Mougin and Rozzlo made their way. Despite both of them being taller than Bradly, he continued to look high and mighty with his arms crossed and a face smirking.

In the throwing lane to the right of Bradly, there were two average looking men, one with a bald head and another with red hair. They hung their axes on the wall at the sight of Mougin and Rozzlo getting closer. They obviously didn't want any part of whatever was about to happen. The man Bradly had snatched the axe from was apparently friends with the others, because he too started to walk away.

The black haired, ponytailed man didn't get far before Bradly shouted at him. "Hey, where do you think you're going!?" The man stopped in his tracks but didn't turn around right away. "Yeah, you hear me." The man sighed, clenched his jaw, and turned to give Bradly a blank stare. "I need a partner, and you were throwing alone. So you're with me."

The man spoke in a calm tone as he tried to talk his way out of it. "My throwing partner's in the can. We're already registered."

"I'm sure your partner won't care if I take his spot for today. If he does, I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement." Bradly had a reputation around this bar, around every bar really. Get into a scruff with him, and you'd end up in the hospital, on the brink of death for at least a week or two.

The man sighed again and nodded. He took a swig from his mug and walked back to Bradly's side. By this time, Mougin and Rozzlo had claimed the empty lane. Side by side, they took up the entire width of the lane, plus some.

"Hey, Lonny!" Bradly barked at a man who was sitting on a nearby high stool. The man named Lonny was wearing a black and white striped shirt, a referee's shirt. "Let's get this thing started!" Bradly ordered.

"Fine." The bald man answered through his large brown beard. His belly jiggled as he stepped off his stool. He walked closer, half empty beer in hand. "Everyone know the rules right?" He huffed.