Four idiots tried to steal a witch's cat. They accidentally ended resurrection magic. And that was the easy part.
Distract the witch. Steal her cat. Return the cat. Receive gratitude. Possibly see her naked. Harold saw no flaws in this.
There were flaws in this. Within the first chapter, an ancient forbidden spell has been miscast, every resurrection rite in the realm has quietly stopped working, a glass shield is bound for a king who does not yet know it is coming, and a witch has cursed Harold's manhood to fall off if he leaves town without her.
What follows is a comedic fantasy about the kind of adventuring party every tavern dreads: a Cavaliere with no shield, a cleric who can't heal, a Mystic who explodes his own tower, a stoner cartographer, and a small middle-aged man whose plans somehow always involve sleeping with someone he shouldn't.
Roughly 60,000 words. Six constructed languages. Currently being written.
Short, balding, middle-aged, and convinced every woman who hasn't met him would love him. Brought the party together to deliver a glass shield to Midport. Owns most of their current problems.
A blonde, chiseled Cavaliere descended from a legendary hero. Lost his sword, shield, and armor within a single chapter. Has lost a staring contest to an orc he started.
Stuck with the worst graduation quest at her school. Can technically perform healing magic. Frequently too drunk, hungover, or annoyed to actually do it.
Inherited a forbidden ritual from her mother. Had a cat. Does not anymore. Has cursed at least one man's genitals in retribution. The party's reluctant new member.
Pedantic, dismissive, accidentally cuckolded a man and burned down his own tower in the same evening. Now travels with the party because he literally has nowhere else to go.
A tavern janitor with a serious rock habit and surprisingly good map-drawing skills. Wants very badly to meet the Rat King. Believes he is essential to the party. He is correct, somehow.
The plan was simple: distract the witch, steal her cat, return the cat, receive gratitude, possibly see her naked. Harold saw no flaws in this.
‘I just don't see how that's a bad thing,’ said Harold. ‘You keep telling me it's a bad thing but I just don't see it.’
‘You were in her closet to see her naked, Harold. She must have been terrified once she saw you there.’
‘A man has needs. Plus, she shouldn't be changing clothes next to her window if she doesn't want to draw attention.’
Across the table, Gladius was engaged in something far more important than the moral failings of his two companions. The grey-skinned orc two tables over had made the dire mistake of looking in his direction, and Gladius had decided this was a challenge. He had not blinked for four whole minutes, and was very proud of this.
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