Cursed Kobold

Tools. I’m only here for tools, and nothing weird will happen. That’s what I say to myself, hefting this sack over my shoulder and barging into the crowd at the colossal front gate. It’s a surprisingly light sack for a big haul of gold, but considering I’m about three feet tiny, it isn’t what most would consider large. What I would consider large are all the idiots in my way.

Standing like they’re my own personal demons trying to block my path, the humans, the orcs and especially the dragonkin just can’t help but notice me and be impolite about it. Every face I look at, they stare with wide eyes, doing their best flustered frog impression. Every second step or shove past them is barely progress through the crowd. I once again barge my shoulder right into a guy’s ass, and for a moment he looks gruff about it. Instead of shouting at me though, he just stands there frozen like the rest of them!

“Move you bog-minded logs!” I shout. It startles some of them, but the rest barely even hear me, too busy once again staring and getting all red in the face. By Fos, it’s going to take the week just to get through them. At least I don’t have far to go, closing in on the single guard blocking the doorway in.

“Move I said! Are you all deaf!?” Again, I vent my frustration. This time brought on by the barely dressed tuskhead who just had the audacity to almost step over me! Already angry, I yell at her, “You fucking cheap green whore, don’t cut in front of me!”

Uh oh. Immediately my anger dips as she turns around, giving me a completely unnecessary full frontal, before leaning over to me with a sly face. She’s going to pick me up, she’s going to pick me up, please don’t pick me up, please don’t I think, but instead she gives me a pat on the shoulder.

“OH, VERY SORRY, HERE, HERE…” she practically yells at me, turning around and parting the people in front, “MOVE, MOVE LITTLE ONES, HURRY, MOVE!”

Not someone to disregard a blessing, I just follow along behind, ignoring all the people around the two of us until we get to the front. Now half deaf and still very surprised, I speak just a tad too loud at the guard, “HEY, I’M HERE FOR TOOLS AND TRADING, LET ME IN FOR THE NIGHT!”

The guard, who was probably also deaf didn’t seem to hear me at first, but with a confused nod and a mumble, he let me pass just like any other person. It’s like I’ve got some disease on my face or something that everyone seems to take pity on me for. It’s absolutely obnoxious. Thankfully, the wall is plenty thick and the tunnel through it is nice and empty, all those people at the front must’ve not been allowed in. Perfect for a quick little re-buckle of my leathers.

If people are going to stare at me the whole time, I should probably find a way to hide a bit. In that vein, I pull a rough cloth hood over my head, just fitting over my horns. I always knew my family had some sort of issue with a curse, but now I’m understanding why my sister made me go instead.

She’s ten times as shy as I am, and she always comes back with a bunch of gold from ‘weird people’, which, if anyone else is like that orc woman, will be easy to get, but I’m not here for gold. I’m meant to be here for tools.

Moving out of the tunnel, now ready to hopefully not be noticed, my tail half curled around my leg, and my hood as low as possible, I almost run into the first vendor. He has some sort of fried lizard available, shouting for people to come and try the disgusting looking things. Thankfully, I slip past him, and the people wandering the front street don’t notice me.

I should have had my hood up from the start…