“It all started on that one day…

The tavern was a welcome sight. It always was, to the weary travellers in the swamp, trying not to sink in quicksand, drowning, etc.

Also being eaten by crocs.

But let us return to the story. On this fateful, wet and rainy night, a young boy stumbled across the boardwalk with the small boat leafing to the tavern. Laughter echoed through the gloomy night in the dark swamp.

He burst in the door, spraying water everywhere. He was a human, short for his adolescent age, and worked in magic. Pulling off his cloak, his bright blue close-set eyes above his freckles gazed around at the men and pretty women chatting, drinking and mingling. His pointed nose dripped water and he shook even more out of his curly mass of light brown hair.

I (the innkeeper) rushed over to him. “Now now, no shaking your rain all over us nice warm folks,” he reprimanded. “Here. Take this towel and warm up by the fire.”

“Thank you,” said the boy.

“Pray tell, what’s your name, race and business?”

“I’m Damian. I’m a human teen and I know magic. I’m here to rest and settle a little score I have with them men over there in the corner. Tomorrow I will go on again. My business is private, I’m afraid.” Damian toweled off his hair and warmed up by the fire. He was getting comfortable but his clothes still dripped onto the rug by the crackling logs.

I was rather unhappy about my best rug getting ruined. “Well, why don’t you go and get dry in a room? Take these clothes and come back down when you are ready for a meal and rum.”

“I don’t drink, thank you, please prepare a meal for me,” was all the mysterious boy said as he traveled upstairs. He came back down around fifteen minutes later. He flipped me a coin and sliding his plate off the bar into his hands, he strode over to the table. Curious, I couldn’t help but watch. 

Damian set the plate down and leaned against the table, looking at all the men. It seemed ridiculous at the time that the men -who were twice the size of Damian- leaned back when he leaned in.

“Gentlemen,” said the lad. “Greetings, my old… friends.”

The guys looked at each other uneasily. “Um… hey, Damian. How’s the ol’ wizzy?” One asked in a -dare I say it- trembling tone. 

“The wizard died last year, two months after releasing me from training,” said Damian calmly. He lowered his voice. Eavesdropping, I struggled to hear. “But I’m not here to converse with old buddies about old tutors. I’m not here to attack you seven, either. But I am here to settle some scores… I need my money.”

“We… don’t have it,” the men admitted.

“I will not be cheated out of the money you made me bet for, the money I _won,” _growled Damian. “You get it to me tomorrow or else.”

“But… we can’t get a job out ‘ere and it’s miles from anywhere with a job worth paying two hundred gold, twenty silver,” murmured one man who was a little into the drink.”

“Not my problem,” said Damian darkly. “But I hear they pay you to fight the crocs at this place. Of course, you have the whole part where you possibly die. But that’s hardly a problem compared to what I’ll do to you if those coins aren’t in my possession tomorrow.”

I watched as Damian disappeared into his room upstairs. The men huddled together, talking in rapid, panicked and low voices. Then, well…”



“Did the men challenge the crocodiles like Damian suggested?” Avery, the inspector, said. He was interviewing me about what had happened last night.

“Yes. They all… they all died. I asked Damian the next morning about how he must be upset about the money. He merely responded, ‘I got what I came for,’ flipped a coin to me and left.”

“Thank you for your time. In the future, the croc fighting is to be banned. Thank you. This is your one time warning.”

…

Sorry the ending is a little weak but I couldn’t think of anything lol