<div class="floatright">(http://1-media-cdn.foolz.us/ffuuka/board/tg/image/1337/09/1337095155450.jpg)</div>Regardless of how short the others were compared to the average for their race, Tiktik was dwarfed by all of them. Standing just short of three feet at his full height, the cold-blooded kobold trotted up to the two women, the invitation stowed in one of the many pockets of his desert jacket. The day was warm, even this far up in the sky, and Tiktik had had an early morning of running errands. Kobolds were often considered second-class citizens, if citizens at all, and in order to make ends meet, Tiktik often was forced to do menial jobs. Today's task had been to creep in between buildings to retrieve a ring some woman had dropped, having been hired due to his small size and clever fingers. That he could have been easily crushed had the buildings shifted slightly upon their platforms had been of no concern to the woman or her husband who had hired him, who had disdainfully paid him before waving him off with his nose in the air as though the kobold smelled, despite the fact that the lizard-man lacked sweat glands.<br/><br/>Still, that was life as a kobold, and most were considered little more than useful vermin. He accepted it with the same stoic acceptance that most of his kind did, though he was sure that one day he would be able to get enough jobs, work hard enough to raise his family from the depths of poverty... though the chances of that seemed close to zero at the moment. The message to come to the company headquarters had been a surprise to the kobold--he was rarely picked for the higher-paying jobs, those usually reserved for the mammals that made up most of the hunter population. Still, companies usually paid decent money, and he could scarce turn that down, not when his own finances were running out.<br/><br/>Reaching the headquarters, he had been challenged by the man at the front who seemed intent to keep out riffraff. Upon showing the invitation, he had almost had it confiscated, the man having argued that he had somehow stolen it, or found it on the street, and that no self-respecting company would go so far as to offer something as deplorable as a kobold a job. Still, Tiktik had insisted, clutching the note grimly, and when the doorman had investigated further and received an answer, he begrudgingly allowed Tiktik entrance onto the premises, though not without a disdainful look that threatened to kick the kobold out without question if he showed the slightest sign of bad behavior. With a practiced manner, Tiktik hid the anger that started bubbling within him to enter deeper into the building, the guard at the entrance shooting him one last disapproving glance before promptly ignoring him.<br/><br/>Making his way to the reception desk he presented himself to the bored secretary who also gave him a patronizing glance before directing him to a nearby chair with an admonition not to make a nuisance of himself, eat the plants, scratch the floor with his claws, shed on anything, or gnaw on the furniture. Tiktik didn't even sigh, already used to the words, and took his chair before noticing the two others already gathered. "I take it you also received an invitation?" he asks, the question directed at either of the two, steeling himself for the surprise that something like a kobold could be invited. He wondered if he had been summoned to serve as someone who would make sure the two females' shoes didn't get dirty or the like, waiting with a neutral expression on his reptilian face, often grotesque but undecipherable to mammals, as he paused to gauge their response to his presence, his beady eyes flashing from one to the other.<br/><br/>While he could be mistaken for one of the many servile kobolds that tended to many of the city's more unwanted tasks, a few things differentiated him; a travel pack made for descending into the deep desert, the alert stance with which he surveyed his surroundings, and strangest of all, the tiny revolver stashed into a holster, something that few would tolerate seeing on a kobold, who were more often assumed to destroy themselves or some property than be able to use the fearsome firearms correctly. Still, he seemed to treat it as something familiar, as though he knew how to use it rather than something he had simply found or stolen.<br/><br/>1 (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=190719.0) 2 (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=191627.0)