“Not so fast, we still have a few questions” Foxy replied, then searched the prisoner with trained hands and finally tied his arms back. “You had business with the Reds'' base. Start talking before the others get here. Our vampire practices a slightly bloodier version of interrogation than we do.”


    The prisoner in waiting turned pale as he looked from one of them to another and decided to take it seriously. The Brothers Grimm did not tell stories as coherently and deeply as he did: The gang he was the boss of, like a few others, was hired specifically for the attack by a Grey Elf who introduced himself as Guillermo.


    He did not know what the reason for the attack was, but it was strange that most of the loot did not interest him, he only took a few books and worthless little baubles with him. Most of the gangs followed him somewhere after the attack, this smaller party hadn’t managed to loot anything overly valuable, so they decided to supplement their earnings with some local robbery.


    The fairytale afternoon was just over by the time Mini and the elf archer arrived – the latter looking to Prof for help as he tried to straighten his hair.


    “Foxy, what should we do with our dear friend? What is the punishment for banditry and murder in the Domain?”


    “In this case, the Reds would have the precedence to judge. Willowflower or the local prince could only decide on reparation afterward. Given that the Reds tend to impose quick and final penalties, especially on non-elves…”


    “OK, I get it. I have no desire to pass judgment, so we will keep our friend for Shinead.”


    “Can I play with him?”


    "If Shinead says yes then yes. In the meantime, don''t touch him, Mini.”


    The vampire went over to the wounded bandit pouting and then dragged him back to the campfire.


    “Hehe, you didn''t say anything about this specimen! It''s time for lunch!”


    The capitulated bandit didn’t know what scared him more: the prospect that the Reds will judge him, or Mini’s presence and eating habits. Maybe it was Binky, who walked lazily to him, licked his face, and lay down across his feet. With the prisoner’s guard thus solved, the party embarked on every creature''s favorite post-battle preoccupation: looting!


    After the camp was turned upside down, they found about two gold worth in cash (Bergian and Elven currency both) – half of which belonged to the Clan, that is, what remained was divided by three for thirty-three silver per head.


    Examining the covered goods, it was found that at least one cloth, one fur, one spice merchant, and one jeweler may have fallen victim to the gang. The good news was that the goods were legally theirs, although they had to register them in the nearest town and put them on market there – of course at a discounted price.


    That wasn''t too much of a problem, Prof didn''t intend to open a general store chain. In the case of the animals, the situation was somewhat more complicated: the previous owner had two weeks to apply, and only then could the finder get them. The most surprising thing about the whole loot was a creature sitting in an iron cage set into a small hollow: it looked like a love child of a wolf and a two-legged lizard. Its hands and feet were reminiscent of a lizard, its legs, arms, and head were more like a wolf, while its body and tail were somewhere in between.


    “A Kobold? Here?” Foxy wondered.


    “Missssy no hurt Sssssharpclaw!” The perhaps waist-high creature immediately begged Foxy in a high, hissing voice. Its tongue also looked like it belonged to a lizard. It spoke Bergian, but with a catastrophic heavy accent.


    “What do we do with it?” Prof scratched his head helplessly


    “If you let it go, it won''t have much of a life expectancy. Elves shoot Kobolds without asking questions later here in the Domains. They aren''t well-liked among Humans either.”


    “Sssssharpclaw ssssserve missssster!” The Kobold nodded in Prof''s direction.” Sssssharpclaw faithful! Misssster give Sssssharpclaw nyam-nyam, Sssssharpclaw sssssmellssss trap! Sssssharclaw good Trapsssssniff!”


    “That''s actually not a bad idea. None of us are good in [Traps]. Show me your character parchment, I''ll be able to decide based on that.”


    The Kobold nodded, and within moments Prof was able to verify the numbers of Sharpclaw Shackelton, a twelve-year-old, Level 2 female Kobold.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Her Perk’s result was that she was hard to hit in melee, could sneak around perfectly, and if she managed to land a surprise hit, the victim had little chance of survival (the damage increased sixfold!). However, due to her low Stats and negative Perks, she was completely useless in anything relating to science.


    The fact that she talked big and couldn’t stand the cold was almost irrelevant.


    “Foxy, why are her Stats so low? And that Red Elf also had surprisingly low ones.”


    “Probably there are no such differences where you came from. Each creature falls into one of three categories: Normal, Elite, and Boss. Of course, every race has a different chance of being born into one of the categories, as far as I know, almost 50-50% of Humans fall into the Normal or Elite category, and maybe 10% into Bosses. Elves have a two-thirds chance for the Elite category, smaller greenskins, and lizards, so goblins and kobolds, for example, have a two-thirds chance of being in the Normal category. As far as I know. For certain monsters, the newborn will almost certainly be an Elite or Boss. The higher a category someone is born into, the better their Stats, the more points they get.”


    “Am I right with the supposition that the lower categories don’t have a chance to get in a better position then?”


    “Not necessarily. It all depends on whether your Stats, positive and negative Perks, and Skills are sufficient to fill the position. At the Academy, for example, one of the most respected researchers was in the Normal category, while the cleaning lady was a Boss. To the best of my knowledge, Humans and other species have similar attitudes.”


    “At home, the higher categories start with an advantage,” Mini added to the conversation. “For that, the expectations are higher too. If you are intelligent enough, you will give way to the more competent ones. The dumb ones usually get themselves killed.”


    “Natural selection?” Asked Prof


    “Something like that.”


    “I understand. Sharpclaw, how did you manage to get here?”


    “Trader buy Sssssssharpclaw bad Humanssss, wantsssss sssssell Sssssharpclaw other bad Humanssss. Bad Humanssss kill traderssss. Lock Sssssharpclaw. Give no nyam-nyam!”


    “All right, Sharpclaw. You can come with me, you get to eat, and you help us in return. All right?”


    “Sssssharpclaw all right! Misssster give Sssssharpclaw nyam-nyam?”


    Prof dug up some food from his backpack and pressed it into the kobold''s hand.


    “When you''re done, come, help to pack up.”


    Taking stock of the liberated loot lasted until late in the afternoon. Based on the spice merchant''s merchandise, he was perhaps closer to a dealer, although there were fifty portions of good spices in the pile (list price roughly 200 silver), most of his wares consisted of thirty kilograms of fine tobacco and thirty kilograms of pot – both being completely legal everywhere. These two items alone were worth nearly six hundred silver.


    More problematic was an additional ten kilograms of other recreational material, of which, according to Foxy, at least half was illegal in the Domain. Prof had no problem at all throwing the smuggler at the authorities. More money and points in the reputation system.


    Another pile revealed cloth: next to better-quality wool, there was velvet, silk, and some high-end spider silk. And five beautiful rugs. Prof had to guess but the list price of the textiles should have been somewhere around 950-1000 silver!


    The last pile hid the fur trader''s goods: in addition to a large amount of rabbit, beaver, and raccoon pelts, it also contained fox, marten, ermine, lynx furs, and even a leopard fur! Another at least eight hundred silver!


    The real jackpot was in the head bandit’s tent in a locked chest, namely polished and raw gemstones, silver and gold jewelry, a handful of magical copper, bronze, and silver rings, plus three real treasures. The first one was an ornate, magical headband made of platinum, the second was a pair of magical white gold earrings adorned with various blue gemstones, and finally, for lack of a better word, a large silver Asclepius wand with a gold snake on it with emerald eyes. All three being magical.


    Foxy immediately started identifying the haul, while the others continued looting. They also collected a bag of used clothing (20-30 silver), half of them bloody, a couple of completely average weapons, (swords, knives, axes), a ball-and-chain flail (30 silver in total), and some ordinary light leather armor (30 silver). A total of two pieces stood out from the entire pile of combat gear, an above-average quality blue steel short sword (fifty silver alone) from the commander and an above-average quality matte black wooden one-handed crossbow (Prof could not figure a price for that, but it was worth at least a hundred silver).


    In addition, they gathered enough food for a few weeks, some not-so-good alcohol, and two crates of quality liquor: ten bottles of almost black wine, and ten bottles of clear booze with some glittering stuff swimming in them.


    “Blood Wine from Forestdeep and Elven Glitter Brandy” Mini enlightened Prof. “You can sell a bottle for two or three silver almost everywhere. Not bad! Can we keep it?”


    “I see no reason why not.” replied Prof “There are some things I think would be a shame to sell.”


    “I''d be interested in the spider silk and leopard pelt,” Mini nodded. I have a few ideas about what kind of garbs I can order to make of them. You would like it too!” She winked unequivocally. Prof had a suspicion of what kind of “clothes” the vampire was thinking of.