Detective Kark Investigations: Questioning

My life wasn’t always this way. 

Mud and water splash around me, as I was slammed to the side by the next guy who came charging in. Sloppy work. I don’t know if it's from the drinks I had last night, still lingering around, or I’ve just grown cocky in my old age. 

The man I was questioning, now feeling brave with his buddy here, quickly jumped in and sent a kick to my side. I gasped for air, only for my mouth to be filled with the puddle. I spat it out, getting on my hands and knees. 

“Not so tough now are ya, you no nose freak!” the ruffian stomped on my back, trying to make me fall again.

I used to hunt mind flayers, with my fellow githzerai. 

I slowly started to stand up, when the second mook came in with a haymaker to my gut. I staggered forward, trying not to fall down now. The ruffian took my favorite hat off my head, and placed it on his own. “Geez, noseless, bald and the color of snot. No wonder you’re messing with us good lookin’ guys, eh?” I did my best to keep my emotions in check, but when the time was right, I was not going to hold back on him.

I was regarded as a wise, sought after zerth as a warrior, and teacher. 

“I wanted to know….about the orphans working in the Cannery factory” the right hook the second ruffian threw at me hit me to the side of my face. 

So why in the multilevel hells am I here, even bothering with these pieces of garbage? 

“Mr Cannery is a wonderful business man and a pillar of the community. If a couple kids lose some fingers, or a limb or two working because of his generosity, who cares?! Builds character as I always say. Besides” he grabbed the collar of my button up shirt to hold me up.

Maybe it’s been bred into my DNA, or all the trials that both I and the people that I know have gone through.

“Any of them grow up and still have their body limbs attached, you can die easily knowing we’ll take them under our wing!” The ruffian said, raising another fist. 

I just really hate bullies!

I lurched forward, headbutting the asshole in the nose, breaking it as blood spluttered out of it. I followed it up with an actually good right hook of my own to his face. Using the sleight of hand, I removed the fedora off the asshole’s head and placed it on my head; right as the big pile of garbage fell into the mud puddle. 

“YOU SONUVA BITCH!” The first guy I was interviewing came up behind me, and raising a makeshift wooden club he found, tried to smash it across my back with a battle cry. He would’ve had a better chance if he had just kept his mouth shut. I gently raise up my palm, and a barrier of amber light comes from my hand. The light envelopes me in a sphere, and shields me from the club attack. The scrawny guy stands there speechless, not sure what to do next. I give him an answer by chopping his wrists with my hand, making him drop the club. I follow it up with a palm strike to his chest, knocking the air out of him, and sending him ass first into the mud puddle. 

“Lets try this again” I say, trying not to look silly as I shake off mud off my long coat. “What can you tell me about the orphans working at Mr Cannery’s Canning Factory?”