Subhuman.

Renato looked the goblin up and down. And given where humans rank, that really means something. "I'm told you've missed a shipment."

"The guards are getting cautious." the goblin whined. "They're much harder to catch unawares. But, since this was the last shipment, I was hoping that in the interest of goodwill moving forwards..." The goblin's eyes tracked around the room, across Renato's attendants, from the ones paying him close attention to the other ones pretending not to.

"...I could have a small extension, to put us all on the right footing to negotiate my next contract."

Renato sighed. "Goblin, what is your name?"

Call me Sir. Call me Master. Call me Lord. Oh, please do.

"Marco, Mister Renato." He looked so out of place among Renato's fine furnishings. Even if it was still technically a cell.

Damn. Goblin limbs were nice and thin. They had strength, for their size, but still pulled apart like any other. "Marco, why do you think the guards keep me around?"

"...I'm not sure how to answer you."

"Do you think the guards only take in people they can prove break the rules? Look around you. Why is my station not evidence enough for the red man?" There was wealth to have in prison, and Renato was the man to have it. The cell where they held meetings wasn't even his only one.

"You're... too powerful?"

Renato smiled. "I was once..." Well, not as small as you. "An upstart as well. But I'll be here long after your grandchildren have died in cells of their own. Goblin, I do something that all of those guards couldn't. How many deaths were there in all of Block C last month?"

"Uh... five? No, six. Fulvia had that caugh, and she—"

"None," Renato interrupted. "Except those that I desired. I bring stability here. And to the other blocks, too. As long as I'm here, there's no trouble for the guards to clean up."

The goblin kept silent, perhaps seeing where things were going. "In the interest of goodwill, goblin, you will have another week to deliver this sword. And for interest, a second sword. Does that sound fair?"

His shoulders slumped in defeat. "Yes... Renato."

"Excellent." Renato reached a gloved hand down to the goblin's shoulders and gave him a pat. "It would be a shame if such a strong business relationship became unstable."

Renato called for wine while an enforcer led the creature out. He'd had far too little good news of late. Almost none since that harlot the other year. He still had the scar running up his ear, all the way to the tip.

He barely had time for a glass before one of his uglier whipspines interrupted him. "Renato," she began, kneeling. "News from block A."

"Send it in, then." It seemed that peace and quiet was off the table, so might as well get it over with.

The ogre nodded curtly, her ponytail snapping against her back like one of their whips. Then she stood and nodded to the door, where another whipspine let in a fearful human man. He was dressed like the common urchin from any block.

Not just subelf, this one was sub-most humans, too. The man, or boy maybe, stopped in front of Renato's chair and knelt, aping the whipspine's previous pose. His eyes met Renato's, and he looked away when he saw the sneer.

"Out with it, then."

"Yes, I... I am quiet, and the guards pay me no mind, and I was in block B, I mean, we all are but I live over in B2 and I was in a side passage and I heard some—"

"Heard what?" Renato had no time for this.

The human jumped. "The Warden! He's visiting. First day next month, full inspection. The guards are in a panic."

Now this could be interesting. Important information was valuable information. The warden? Renato had only heard of previous inspections secondhand. If he truly took that long on his... vacations, he was truly something long-lived. Could even be an elf. At the very least, not subelf.

The guards would be scurrying to fix every little problem that accumulated over their last few lifetimes. What would that mean? Was Renato a useful tool to them, or would they decide he was a problem, himself?

This makes everything complicated. First order of business was to keep things from getting out: No telling what inadvisable actions others might contemplate from hearing news like this. Renato mimed a shutting door to his perimeter enforcer. "Who else have you told?"

"Nobody, my lord."

Renato took a breath, closed his eyes, and then exhaled it over a ten-count. He could be reasonable when his survival was on the line. He could adapt to this new circumstance.

He opened his eyes to find everybody in the room staring. Renato flashed a smile to reassure his people, then got back to work. "What else did you hear?"

"Well, they were going to open block D, F, all of them. Going to try and clean them before he arrives. And they were saying something about a creature in the greenhouse."

That old rumor. "What else? What will the warden look for?" Down the hall came the echoes of a door closing. His enforcers, sealing the wing.

"That's all, Master Renato. They didn't go into detail about—"

Renato's palm took him the chest, and the man shot straight back and into the cell bars, where his broken body slumped into the indentation from the impact.

The human moaned. His body hadn't yet caught up to the fact that his chest was crushed, and attempted to continue living. Renato rose from his seat and strode closer while his enforcers and attendants averted their eyes.

"Lord? Master?!" Renato uppercut the man's chin, sending his head spinning between the warped bars and into the hall.

"DO. I. LOOK. LIKE. A. GUARD?"