“The name’s Niko Driftwood,” the young man said lazily, propping his feet up on the table beside him, “and as I’m sure you’re aware, I’m looking for a team to help me clear out the local goblin tribe. Little bastards are usually pretty damn friendly, but according to the locals, this group started shanking everyone that came close about two months back. Wouldn’t be a problem if they hadn’t set their damn camp right next to the road, but they did, which means this town’s on a timer unless we can take ‘em down or make ‘em move. Any questions?”
Monika frowned, but before she could say anything, one of the other adventurers - a blonde elf - cut her off. “Plenty!” she said cheerfully. “Why do you call them little bastards if most of them are friendly? Do we know the layout of their camp? Isn’t the innkeeper gonna get mad that your dirty boots are on his table? How many goblins are there? Are you single? Do you have an actual plan, or -”
“Slow down,” a gruff dwarf with a thick accent grunted. “Too many question. My common not good. Cannot understand.”
“To answer,” the young man said dryly, “They’re chaotic enough that the friendly ones are still problematic, we only have a single eyewitness account, the innkeeper yells at me every five minutes or so but I put my feet back up every time he turns around because he’s been an asshole since I first arrived, there’s around two dozen of the tiny knife wielding psychos, I am but I don’t date crazy which means you, and I do, in fact, have a plan.”
“Harsh,” the blonde said with a wide smile, a flicker of multicolored light shimmering in her emerald eyes. “Well, then, let’s hear it! Oh, I’m Lucy by the way. Lucy Swiftwind. The annoying dwarf is Ferris Stoneshield - we met about a month back and work pretty well together.”
“True,” the dwarf replied. “I can heal. Swing hammer. Is enough.”
“In spite of what he said earlier, he understands much better than he talks,” Lucy said with a wave towards the scowling healer. “Honestly,I bet he could talk better too, if he really tried. He just dislikes long conversations.”
“And chatty elves.”
“See?”
Monika was already feeling overwhelmed. The elf was too energetic by far, the dwarf was impossible to read, and to call the young man currently lighting a candle with one burning thumb abrasive would be like calling the sun ‘warm’. But…
“I have one last question,” she said softly. “What does the job pay?” The trio that had spoken thus far all looked at her with raised eyebrows, and she hurried to clarify. “I would be happy to help, but I must know the reward if I’m to allocate funds to my preparations!”
The truth was, she needed the money. She had just enough left to afford food for the rest of the week. After that, she’d be on her own - or worse, be forced to seek aid from one of the relatives that’d mocked her dream of becoming an adventurer in the first place. Unacceptable.
“I’ll take care of preparations,” the pyromancer said with a dismissive wave, “but if you’re worried, the reward is 5 gold per goblin killed, plus a flat 60. Naturally, we’ll be splitting everything equally. Provided everyone here is on board and pulls their weight, that’s 300 total, or 30 apiece, if we burn the place down. ”
Discontented murmurs from a few of the other adventurers, who’d remained silent until now, filled the air. “Why’d you say it like that?” A pale human man clad in black leather demanded. “They’ve killed people, right? Why wouldn’t we wipe them out, especially when it would earn us so much coin?” A few other nearby adventurers voiced their support of the obvious, if aggressive, questions, but the young mage held up one hand, silencing them.
“There have been tribes in the area for decades,” he said softly, “but they only became violent recently. Doesn’t that seem off to you? I say, if we can stop the attacks without wiping them out, we do so. If you disagree, by all means - leave. I don’t want to work with anyone that can't think for themselves. If all I wanted was to do all the thinking for a bunch of thick skulled, overgrown children in armor, I would’ve stayed a soldier.”
Like everyone in Fortissia, Niko had been required to spend at least two years in the military once he came of age. Although he could’ve waited a few years, like most folks did, he’d jumped at the chance to get out of the small town that raised him and see the wider world. Sadly, the rules and regulations of military life had chafed, and he left as soon as his mandatory time was up.
The same was true of most of the men now glaring at him. Adventuring had become such a popular career amongst ex-soldiers that the two concepts were nearly synonymous in most parts of the country - which was probably why the Adventurers guild had rebranded itself as “Monster Hunters” a few decades back. That shared history wasn’t doing the arrogant young mage any good, though. In fact, judging from the way people were beginning to surreptitiously clear the side of the inn that included his table, the townsfolk were expecting a fight to break out any second now.
So was he.
“Are you still here because you wanna help this town,” the young spellcaster said in a whisper that somehow carried clear across the room, “or cuz you want to brawl? Because pyromancers don’t play nice, and most of you haven’t got so much hair that you can afford to have yours burnt off.” He conjured a small ball of fire in one hand while taking an idle sip from the tankard he held in the other. He pulled one leg back so it rested against the edge of the table and leveled a challenging glare at the adventurers.
One of the men lunged over the table, clearly too angry - and perhaps too drunk, judging from the smell of him - to think clearly. In one fluid motion, the boy kicked the table hard enough to send the edge of it flying into the face of his would-be assailant… and send himself tumbling backwards. Another adventurer had already been reaching for his weapon, but the young mage hurled his drink in the man’s face mid-fall and rolled to his feet. A single spark lanced from the tip of his finger, striking the drenched man. Monika expected it to do nothing, but to her astonishment, the man’s beard burst into flames, though only for a moment. The smell in the air sent her into a coughing fit as the pieces fell into place.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Was that rum?! Who drinks rum by the tankard?!
“Now,” the young man drawled, idly brushing the crumbs off his shirt, “who else feels like trying my eyebrow removal services? Don’t worry, they’re free - unless you keep making a mess of this inn. Then the old bastard that runs this place will charge everyone here a hefty fee. Don’t worry about the table, though. I paid for that in advance.” He smirked at the furious adventurers, daring them to try again. One brave soul took a half step towards him, only to be cut off by the pale man from earlier putting a firm hand on their shoulder.
“We’ll be leaving,” he said curtly, glaring at the boy.
“I doubt that,” the pyromancer replied as a loud thud cut through the air. Looking towards the sound, Monika realized with a chill that they were the only living people in the building. The townsfolk from earlier had gone outside and barred the only door.
“I gotta say,” Lucy chirped, “this is easily the best bar brawl I’ve been in yet.”
“This is not brawl,” Ferris growled, “and they are not adventurers.”
“Nope!” Niko said, his smirk widening. “They’re bandits. The same bandits that have been bullying the goblins into doing their dirty work.”
“Ya shouldn’t have said that,” the man in black leather said coldly, his accent shifting as he pointed a dagger at the pyromancer. “We were just gonna rough ya up, ya know? Teach ya a bit of respect! But now… we gotta end ya! All of ya!”
“I’m shaking,” the young man said flatly as he tied a white bandana around his forehead. “Let’s get this over with, yeah? I’m getting hungry, and the longer it takes to kill you idiots, the longer I have to wait for the cook to get started on dinner.”
“Count us in!” Lucy called, shimmering light weaving around her as she pulled the bow off her back and spun to face the bandits.
“Obviously! They already said they kill us too! We not lie down on that!”
“It’s ‘take that lying down,” Monika corrected quietly as she drew her blade. “Before we begin, though, may I ask a question?” She shot a confused look at the apparent bandit leader.
“What?” he half snarled.
“Why did you give us time to banter and draw our weapons? Wouldn’t it be smarter to start attacking as soon as he exposed you?”
Lucy did her best to suppress a laugh at the expression of astonished shame on the bandit’s face. “They didn’t even consider it!” she chortled. “They just thought they could act like the villains from some old bard’s tale and get away with it!”
“You’re still outnumbered, bitch!” one of the taller men snapped, pointing at her with his axe. “If you’re all so smart, then why didn’t you get the drop on us, huh?”
“Because if I was wrong, I didn’t wanna roast a bunch of innocent people,” Niko said, idly tossing a small fireball back and forth between his hands. “Now can we get to the -”
He rolled out of the way as one of the bandits, having grown tired of the pointless banter, lunged towards him with a thrust of his short spear.
“The fight, exactly!” the pyromancer said brightly, tossing the flame he’d been playing with directly into the impatient bandit’s face.
Monika didn’t hear much of what anyone said after that. The world fell away, words becoming garbled nonsense shunted to the back of her mind as she attuned her senses to things that mattered - the sounds of creaking would and clashing steel.
She darted between a pair of imposingly tall half orcs, leaving a painful slice along one as she slipped her blade through a narrow gap in his greaves. As the other one spun to face her, the broad side of his massive hammer clipped the wounded one’s shoulder, sending him tumbling to the floor as his wounded leg failed to support the sudden shift in his weight.
She spun to face the still standing half orc, but he, too, stumbled and fell as an arrow sprouted from his throat, its tip gleaming with an otherworldly light. The one on the floor turned onto his stomach, desperate to rejoin the fight, but a single stroke of Ferris’ hammer put an end to him before he could even begin to stand.
Another arrow flew through the air, this one slamming into the hand of a dwarven bandit before he could even attempt to make use of his mace. Monika didn’t hesitate. Her blade slipped cleanly through flesh and bone alike, decapitating the stunned criminal in an instant. Three down. Four, if the screams behind her were any indication. Move now, check after! A muscular human with a battleaxe did his best to kneecap her, only to find his way barred by a solid stone slab as Ferris Stonesheild displayed his namesake proudly. The bandit froze as another piercing scream cut through the din of battle.
The last remaining bandit turned towards his boss, towards the source of the noise, but it was already too late. He had already collapsed to the floor, smoke billowing from the fresh hole in his chest as he wailed in agony. “I hate this part,” Niko muttered as he grabbed the dying man’s head in both hands. The man stopped screaming, his movements suddenly calm as his eyes burned.
“Ashes to ashes,” the pyromancer said softly as the man’s skin blackened and flaked away, “return to dust. En pyro, veritas. En cinis, unitatem.”
In fire, truth. In ashes, unity. The words sent angry, glowing lines throughout the dying man’s body. In seconds, he was gone, and only ash and bones remained.
The lone remaining bandit dropped his axe as reality set in.There was a world of difference between a Copper rank team and a Copper rank solo adventurer, and his group had managed to start a fight with four of the latter. It was over. He’d lost.
“So!” Niko clapped the terrified bandit on the shoulder as the other’s crowded around him. “Now that all that unpleasantness is behind us, let’s talk.” The fire in his eyes sent a shiver down every spine in the room.
Niko Driftwood was not a man to be trifled with.