A brass doorbell, likely as old as the Inn itself, rang loud and clear as the hooded Overkill party entered the lobby. The man behind the bar turned his attention from the pint he was busy filling to take in the group as they entered.
His face was impassive for a second, before he visibly brightened when he recognized the origin of the cloaks.
“Welcome, newbies! First ale on the house! Come one, come all to the front, my friends.”
Saying so, he handed the pint to the customer in line and, with an experienced hand, picked up five more glasses, filling them and placing them together on the bartop as the five walked over.
Taking the lead as the party’s resident Bard, Karsten threw his hood back and did his best to smile at the barkeep. “Thank you…?”
“Odrinn!”
“Thank you, Odrinn!” Karsten picked up the pint closest to him as the others filed in around him, picking up their own mug, and downed the contents in its entirety. He then nodded at the barkeep.
“Karsten. Haa… I’ve needed that.”
Odrinn grinned “Ha! Good! You’re not a true part of the family until you’re alcoholized, I say.”
Karsten gave a straight-lipped smile. “Why call it a ‘family’, anyway? You’re not a cult, are you? You sure sound like a cult.” Henry jabbed his party member in the side with his elbow.
Odrinn chuckled and waved him off. “‘We’, my friend. You’re a part of our little clan now,” He leaned a little closer, “whether you want it or not.” He then winked. “So you better get used to it! But I gotta agree with you, calling ourselves a family is tacky as shit. Why not just stick with ‘gang’, you know what I mean? Has way more ‘oomph’, ya know? God, I miss the old days. Anyway, enough about that. Who sent you rookies to little ol’ me?”
“Donna did.”
“Donna?” The barkeep nodded. “You must have had a hard time. Lucky for you lot, you now answer to me! How exciting, eh?” The barkeep, Odrinn, looked at the five Adventurers in front of the bar with excitement brimming from his eyes, and shrugged when no one met his energy. “Well, it’s too late for an assignment - and I’m not so bad of a boss as to force you all to work on your first day! Sooo, let’s not! I'll set up a room for each of you guys, so just fling off your ritual robes,” He said, waving his hand at their cloaks, “And try out your new beds. But first…”
~-~
For the next few minutes, Odrinn interviewed each party member, scribbling down random facts on a piece of parchment. When all the conversations were done, he filed the documents that now contained some basic information like names and hometown, Class and Subclass, level and personality and so on in a large book he placed in what sounded like a safe behind the counter.
When all was done, he clapped his hands together and gestured to a hallway that led farther into the building.
“Well, there we have it, folks, thank you for your patience. Go up the stairs at the end of the hall, your rooms are rooms 201-203, and rooms 205 and 206.” He smiled apologetically as he looked towards Haressy and Malek. “And do I apologize preemptively for the lack-luster bed sizes. I’ve been positively begging the top man for months, but you know how it is.”
Haressy sighed. “We’re long used to it, bar-man, believe me.”
Odrinn smirked. “I believe you! Then, here are your keys.”
The party received their keys and walked through the lobby to the stairs, passing different groups of people that were hanging out at the different tables in the lounge as they went. As one might expect, the attention of most in the locale had gone to them the second they reached the bar, and the skulls on their backs were bare for all to see.
Many of the people observing them had similar hoods, if not tattoos with the same skull imagery; A cranium with jarring, jagged red spirals for eyes.
Karsten sighed. “Out of one fiery pit of goop and into the next.” He felt a light slap on the back of his head, and turned to see Haressy behind him, looking at him like he’d done something wrong.
“Ow! The hell was that for?”
“Don’t jinx it!”
“Ugh. I don’t think we can get more jinxed than we already are. I mean,” He waved his arms around, gesturing to the hallway of the Inn, “I don’t really think it can get much worse than- OMF!-”
This time it was Henry, covering his party member’s mouth with his hand. “Enough, Karsten. We already have enough on our list of impossible odds. You adding more with your cursed words is very much not necessary right now. Bards, I swear….” He said as he stomped up the stairs.
Haressy nodded wistfully and joined the rest of the party in walking up the stairs.
Karsten looked back towards the lounge once disbelievingly, as if someone would pop out and support him, before trudging up the stairs when, rather obviously, no one did.
~-~
They each settled into their rooms. Well, as well as one could settle into a room owned by an evil crime syndicate of evil, that is. When all was done, they met in Karsten’s room, as his was the largest of the five, to have a party meeting to talk about their current situation.
Everyone filtered into the room and found a place to sit - Malek almost taking up the entire double couch on his own, and Haressy and Otis sitting down on the opposing sofa. Karsten took a seat on the lounging chair at the end of the table, closest to the window. As he sank into the brown leather chair, he pretended all his worries were flowing out of his bones, and that he hadn’t just joined a gang, and heaved a sigh of relief as his muscles somewhat relaxed.
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Henry was the last to enter, and closed the door behind him. When the doors were securely locked, he placed his ear on the door. When he heard nothing on the other side, he turned back to his party members.
“We’re fucked.”
“Yup.”
“Aye, we most certainly are.”
“Oh, guys!” Haressy comforted. “We’re not entirely fucked! We still have each other! And who knows, maybe working for a gang could be fun. I only ever heard about gangs from the stories grandpa used to tell, and seeing one so up close is actually rather thrilling…”
Henry and Otis raised an eyebrow.
“I know, I know, alright? It's not a great situation. But don’t fault me for trying to lighten the mood.” She sighed. “I can see just as well as the rest of you that we’re kind of… well, really in the gutter right now, but I’m just saying. This doesn’t have to be the worst case scenario.” She looked around at the group. “It’s a bad scenario no matter what we do, I think, but that doesn’t mean we get nothing out of it. I’m sure there’s a way”
“My sister is right.” Malek said. “It would have made it more difficult if the boss was hovering over our heads, but going off what Donna said, he’s usually out doing God knows what. Either way, there isn’t much we can do but go along.”
“Indeed,” Otis nodded.
The party continued talking for the next few hours. They talked about all from their guesstimated level of the gnome boss, to reflecting on moments in their travels in the forest.
“You alright?” Said Karsten as he walked up to Henry that was the last party member that stood to leave. Henry turned to him.
“I’m fine.”
Kasten quirked his brows. “Really? You know, I wouldn’t think so. I mean, you-”
“I’m fine, Karsten”
Karsten raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying. I would very much have not been fine if it were me who, you know, died and came back to life. Well, I mean, technically I think I might actually have died and come back - also, been sent to a fantasy world? But that’s neither here nor there. What I’m saying is-.”
“Karsten.”
“...Sorry. Not cool, I know. But I really don’t know what to say.”
“Haaaaa…”
Henry massaged his forehead.
“You know how some people say ‘dying will be painless’?”
“Yeah?”
Henry thought back to the moment of impact. He hadn’t seen the gnome move before it happened. Pain and death were just suddenly upon him - immediate and inescapable. Goosebumps rose from his skin. “They’re wrong.”
“... Really? Well. That’s good to know, I suppose.”
Karsten shook his head and walked up to his party member, placing a hand on the latter’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
Henry scoffed. “Really?.”
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“...Yeah.”
~-~
The next morning, breakfast passed unnervingly normally. After the last few days on the run, even just the simple act of sitting down and eating together in public view without the fear of being discovered felt like heaven to the weary party.
Karsten looked around the hall at the other members of the gang, the normal towns-folk and even the couple Adventurer-looking people currently busy eating their own breakfast.
“Seams brekkie really ties everything together, huh.”
“Brekkie?” Haressy asked.
“Yeah. It’s the word the MC from my favorite book back home usually calls it.”
“What’s an ‘Em See’? And what does that word mean?”
“Well,” The Earthling said, speaking as he chewed on his pork belly. “‘MC’ means ‘main character’. You know, the most important person in any story? And ‘brekkie’ just means breakfast. As far as I know, anyway.”
“Ooo! Cool! And what’s the story?”
“It’s called ‘He Who Fights With Monsters’ by a guy named Travis Deverell. Seems like a pretty chill dude. The MC’s called Jason. And you're not gonna believe this, but he fights with monsters. Now that I think about it, I do too now… Am I ‘He Who Fights With Abnormals’ now? Ha.”
“That’s a good choice of name,” Haressy nodded thoughtfully.
“Jason?”
“No, no, Travis. My grandpa was actually named Travis.”
“Really? Hm.”
The party finished breakfast and met up with Odrinn at the bar.
It was time for their first assignment.
“Ey! If it isn’t my favorite newbies! Come hither, and I shall tell thou where thy path doth lie~” Odrinn reached his hand under the counter and brought out a small slip of paper he courteously handed to Karsten.
Karsten received it, but eyed the barkeep suspiciously.
“Odrinn?”
“Hm?”
“Could I ask what your class is?”
Odrinn leaned his elbows on the counter and waved his brows. “What do you think?”
“Bard,” Karsten answered with no hesitation. Odrinn laughed.
“How’d you tell? I’m not even wearing silk.”
Karsten shrugged and waved his hand at the barkeep. “Your vibe. You can’t be as theatrical as me without being a Bard. Actually, could you please not be as theatrical as me? It’s kind of my thing.”
“It’s your ‘thing’, eh?” Karsten nodded assuredly. “Well, you’re not gonna believe this, but I think many people, aka, all Bards in the world would disagree with you on that. How old are you, by the way?”
“25.”
“And I’m 36. Wouldn’t that make you the Mime?”
Karsten quirked his brows. “How do you know what a mime is? Do they have those here?”
Odrinn quirked his brows as well. “What? What do you mean? Of course we have mimes here. You think we have Bards but not Mimes?”
Karsten frowned. “Ah, well, I guess. But don’t change the subject!”
Odrinn laughed. “I don’t know how I'm changing the subject, but I’ll concede. Anyhow, my point is, I’ve been with the College for a while now, so if I wasn’t flambunctious, I’d be a fraud. And, in my own observation, I’m a lot less flamboutious than a lot of the newer Bards these days, so perhaps you’re just perceiving me how you yourself want to be perceived, hm? Perchance? I do have a high Charisma stat, after all.” He smiled. “Try not to let yourself be fooled, please~”
Goosebumps involuntarily rose from Karsten’s skin, but he didn’t know whether it was from getting the ick or from fear. He settled on the former and grabbed the paper slip, opening it and skimming through the contents. There were only a few short sentences.
“Young boy, looks to be 10 years old. Hazel hair, black eyes-”
“Hey, heyeyeyey! Maybe don’t read the confidential info out loud? I knew you were a rook, but you’re a Bard. At least read the room.” Odrinn shook his head. “I have to say, I’m-” His eyes widened and his jaw grew slightly slack as the man looked blankly over Karsten’s shoulder.
Karsten frowned, and followed the barkeep's gaze. He then squinted his eyes, as if doubting them.
A tiny, hooded figure scuttled towards the door, and Karsten only just saw the person’s face before they hurried out of the door. The person was wearing a hood, yes, but they weren’t using it correctly, so people could easily see their face. It was obvious the person was young, and clearly not experienced with moving under the radar.
He was a buy boy, and looked to be around 10-12 years old. He had hazed hair, and eyes like pure obsidian.
“Ha!” Odrinn leaned over the counter and slapped Karsten hard on the back.
“Well! You’d better get to work then!”