“Nope.”

“Why not!?” The young boy of 10 banged his small fists futilely against Henry’s back as the Spearman carried him on his shoulder. Karsten walked behind him to talk to the child face-to-face.

“But! But you promised!”

“Mm, I don’t really remember that.” Karsten mused, rubbing his chin. “What I remember is you pleading with us to brutally and publicly mutilate and murder a member of the Kerring Family - not just any member, even, the Boss, of all people, and write ‘no one messes with the Waterloom Family’ on the ground with his blood. What I recollect is me, as well as everyone in my party, turning around and walking away from the crazy kid on the crate, then you running after us yelling ‘sometimes, murder is the right answer!’ with the most squeaky voice I’ve ever heard - that last one, though... Who taught you stuff like that?

“My pa!”

“Right. And who exactly was your pa?”

The kid scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Of course I should've known you’d be none the wiser, snozzy. My pa was the head of the Waterloom gang! Everybody knows him.”

“Oh? I didn’t know there were other gangs in Kerring except for the Kerring Family.”

“Tsk. It’s not called the ‘Kerring Family’. It’s called ‘The Family of Kerring.”

“And that matters why exactly?”

“Agh, it’s not some noble family called ‘Kerring’, it’s not that high up. The real Kerring family wouldn’t have let that slide. They’re a crime syndicate that operates in Kerring, ergo, The Family of-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Karsten yawned. “But what’s it called, if not that?”

The boy turned silent. Karsten looked back to see the kid’s legs had stopped trying to kick Henry’s stomach in as well.

“I… I don’t know. No one knows. I doubt even most of their members don’t know.”

“Really?”

The boy nodded. “My pa used to say, when the family first arrived in the town, that no good would come from messing with them, even back when they were just a tiny group.”

Karsten frowned. He was about to question the kid on why people were so afraid of ‘just a tiny group’, but then he remembered the sight of Henry splattered against the wall, and stayed his tongue.

“They came into town and were just like ‘We’re The Family of Kerring, and we run the place now. If you don’t like it, then fuck off!’”

Karsten massaged his glabella. “Listen. I’m all for freedom of expression, but I don’t think your late father would approve of you cursing so much. And what would your mother say?”

“Nothing. She’s dead.”

The Bard dragged a hand over his face and wished he had the Charm Person spell. “Right… My condolences. But the point still stands, you know?”

“But my dad cussed more than a Warlock!”

Karsten didn’t budge.

The boy frowned so heavily he looked like a dungeon bat, but alas, he relented. “Tsk. Fine.”

Karsten chuckled, which only made the kid frown even more.

“A step forward! Never thought I’d see the day. Now, how about we try something else? The long-awaited introduction, perchance? Ahem!” swinging his right arm to his chest and his left to the sky, the Bard bowed as a blue and golden light shone from his body like a gaudy picture frame. “My name is Ka- OUGH!”

“You bloody idiot, don’t you know we’re undercover? Christ, you’re dumber than a worker ant, I swear,” Henry cursed as he resumed walking.

Karsten rubbed the back of his head and smiled sweetly. “Awe, you’ve adopted my speech patterns!”

“Fuck off.”

“Wait! Wait! I didn’t get to see! Do it again!”

“Gladly.”

“Now, listen, gentlemen- uh, gentleman and… gentleboy? Ew, no. Gentle- OW.”

“Haha! Fuck yeah!” The kid pumped his fist in the air and Henry chuckled.

“Stop swearing or I’ll do the same to you.”

“Haha… Alright…”

“What? Why do you listen to him?”

The kid rolled his eyes. “Because he has swag, and you don’t!”

“Swag? Seriously? Why do you even know that word?”

“Tsk. Everyone knows it.”

“Really? I somehow doubt that.”

“Of course you do, cause you ain’t got any.” The boy waved his hands around, gesturing at the city around them, and it was only now that Karsten noticed how scarred they were. “This town has swag! That’s why you poopers don’t belong. This is the town of the Waterlooms, not the bloody Kerr-” The boy was about to no doubt go on a proclamation ramble of the glory of the Waterlooms, when Otis covered the child’s mouth with his hand and looked around at the passer byes.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“I’d be careful what I say in this town, lad.” He eyed a group of people by the entrance of an alley. They didn’t seem to be listening, but Otis quickly looked away, removing his hand and resuming walking as if nothing had happened.

“R-right. Sorry. My… My name’s Alexius.”

Karsten smiled. “And we’re-” Henry glanced over his shoulder at him. Karsten sighed and leaned in closer to Alexius, cupping his hands to his mouth so no one could read his lips. “We’re the Overkill party!” He whispered proudly.

Alexius frowned, then nodded, then frowned again. “Who?”

“Tsk. Of course you wouldn’t know. You don’t have any swag.”

The kid guffawed.

“You know I’m right. Bards don’t lie, after all.”

“...Stain licker.”

Karsten chuckled. “I gotta say, you sure use a lot of fancy words.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do? Common is the most boring language ever! Gotta spice things up, or I’m gonna die, pronto.”

“‘Common’?”

The kid’s eyebrows quirked. “...Yeah? The language? Anyway, we can make this work. You can trust me.”

Karaten’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Alexius rolled his eyes. “The plan!”

Karsten chuckled. “Ohhh, that sadistic humiliation ritual? I’m pretty sure we already-”

“No, no, I’ve thought up something else. I’m sure it’ll work.”

“Positive?”

“Positive.”

“Right. So what’s the Protege thinking?”

The boy puffed out his chest in what Karsten assumed was an attempt to look trustworthy, but looked so tragically pathetic, upside down as he were, that Karsten didn’t even tease the guy.

“We strike them where it hurts!”

“...And that place is?”

The kid beckoned the Bard closer, and the latter obliged and leaned in. Alexius cupped his hands to his face like Karsten had done, and whispered his master plan.

When the kid was done explaining, Karsten stopped walking and rested his hands on his hips. He looked up to the sky and sighed, deeply.

~-~

The door to Kerrington Inn and Casino swung open violently as a group of rowdy Adventurers entered, one of them - the Dwarf - dragging a boy that couldn’t be more than 10 in by the collar of his tattered linen shirt.

“No! No! Let me go! Seriously, you bloody goofers, you don’t know who you’re-”

“Shut it, brat!” Otis dragged the kid the final steps to the bar counter and looked up at the barkeep. The barkeep looked back at the man, then down at the kid, then back at the burly Dwarf with slight confusion in his eyes. Then the confusion turned to amusement as the frizzled Karsten and Haressy joined the three at the bar.

“Welcome back, my brave Adventurers! Say, what took you so long? You’ve sure kept me waiting.”

“Haaa.” Karsten leaned his elbows on the counter and gestured at his hair. “We ran into some… complications? Yeah. Complications.”

“Complications?” Odrinn asked, glancing doubtfully at the kid.

Henry nodded. “This Goblin had an artifact.”

Odrinn nodded and bobbed his head towards the frizzled two. “Lightning type, I reckon?”

“Aye. Almost burned my beard.”

“And this lightning artifact, I assume you talented few managed to get your hands on them?”

Henry nodded again.

“...Would you mind handing it over? I’m sure it would be safer in our trusty safe than in a bag of holding.”

Henry looked at him flatly. “I’d prefer to keep it, to be honest.”

Odrinn looked back. His eyes were calm, but after a few seconds, a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. It was at this moment Alexius kicked the Spearman in the shin as hard as his little decade-old body could muster.

“Traitor! Useless stick-wielder! I’m telling you, the plan will work!”

Henry’s brows furrowed. Alexius scoffed. “Do I really have to keep repeating myself a thousand bloody times? Or do you just lack confidence? It’s just murder!”

Haressy crouched down beside the child. “It’s never ‘just’ murder, little one. And the person you want us to kill the Boss, no less.”

“The Boss?” Odrinn asked.

Haressy sighed and shook her head. “Yes. I’m afraid there’s something wrong with the child’s head.”

Odrinn looked closer at the child. “It seems so. Wanting to kill the Boss is like wanting to kill a God. Tell me, what’s your plan?”

Alexius squirmed on the ground to get free from the party Rogue, but at the question, he stilled and stared fiercely at the barkeep.

“Wring his neck until his face is as red as his cap! Use his ribs for fountain pens and write the truth in his blood!”

“Oh? And what is the truth?”

The kid spat. “No one messes with the Waterlooms!”

Odrinn observed as the child’s spit landed on the floor of the lobby calmly. Then, he looked up to Karsten as if nothing had happened.

“And you denied the kid such a fun death?”

“What? No, not me, you doofus-” Alexius started, but Karsten stepped in front of him.

“He wanted us to do the killing, actually. And the, er, ‘writing’. And we obviously said no, seeing as we’ve already seen what the Boss is capable of. I don’t imagine we’d last very long.”

“A shame, that. Would've been fun to see him try. Well, whatever, put him in the back.” Saying so, he leaned down behind the bar and started fiddling with the safe.

Otis hesitated, but only for a moment before he reached down and grabbed hold of Alexius’ ankle, dragging him behind the bar and into the back room.

Odrinn glanced over his shoulder. “Just leave him there. You guys go do whatever Adventurers do nowadays. Feel free to use the Casino down the hall. Will warn you, though, our little part of the gang has astounding luck when it comes to betting.” He opened the safe and removed a neat stack of papers and a pen, then walked into the backroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

“...”

The Overkill party stood still for a moment, all looking at the door that had just closed. The stillness only lasted for a moment however, before they all split up. Haressy and Henry left the Inn to go look for Malek, who was still somewhere in the city looking for the kid.

Karsten and Otis entered the Casino.