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It started off like any normal day, as most bad days did.
The sun was high in the sky, beating down on their backs as they waited for Coach Gorthalax to begin their Bloodrush practice. Gorgug and Fabian were stretching in a loose huddle with the rest of the team while the other Bad Kids lounged on the bleachers doing what they do when they usually waited for them to finish practice. Adaine was studying. Fig figured out the cords for her next song. Riz went over his mothers latest case notes. Kristen was napping.
But that wasn’t the weird part. What was weird was that for the first time since anyone could remember, Ragh was late to training.
It was more than a little unusual. Never did he miss the one thing that meant the most to him willingly, especially without letting them know beforehand. Now they were ten minutes past the start of practice and if it weren’t for Gorthalax also realizing that something must have been up and delaying training to see if he showed up, they would have already begun.
“Where is he?” Gorgug asked, peering over Fabian’s shoulder to glance around the Bloodrush Field. “This isn’t like him. He’s never late for practice.”
“I know,” Fabian agreed. “Just keep an eye out. He always could have gotten stuck in traffic. No need to worry just yet. I’ll start panicking when we reach the half-hour mark.”
Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait that long. Just as Gorthalax was gathering them around to begin their training- fifteen minutes late, some complained- Fabian heard Adaine’s voice in his head. “Ragh, twelve o’clock,” she sounded a little bit like she was mimicking Riz, and Fabian could just imagine Riz scouting out all the entrances with that eerily keen eyesight of his and rattling off words for Adaine to magically duplicate. “Mayday, mayday.”
Sure enough, they stood on their toes to look over Gorthalax’s shoulder to see Ragh enter the Bloodrush field at a slow jog, rubbing roughly at his face, his uniform in disarray as if it had been hastily slapped on. Almost like a magnet, all the Bad Kid’s attention was drawn to him.
Wordlessly, Fabian and Gorgug simultaneously separated from the rest of the team to meet him. “We need a breather,” Fabian said flippantly at Gorthalax’s questioning look. “The stretching was too strenuous.”
“But we only just started…?” Gothalax frowned as he followed them with his eyes.
“We need a breather,” Gorgug repeated, colder and angrier than he had anticipated. He probably would regret that later, but not right now. “Start without us.”
Gorthalax watched their retreating backs as they marched straight to where Ragh was shyly trying and failing to inch his way onto the field without being noticed, and understanding crossed his features as he returned his attention to the rest of the Bloodrush team and began the training session as he was told without further prompting.
When they reached Ragh, they were surprised to see that his eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks were flush and he was sniffling like he had a cold. He recoiled when they reached him and hastily rubbed at his face with the back of his hand. “B-bros, you’re going to miss training, what are you-”
“Fuck training,” Fabian said venomously, surprising even himself with the heat to the words. “Are you alright?”
“Of course,” Ragh spluttered, defensively. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re late,” Gorgug said simply as if those two words offered more explanation than they did. “And you look like you’ve been crying.”
“Nah, bro,” Ragh shook his head. He didn’t sound very convincing. “That’s crazy. I’m not crying. I’d tell you if I was crying. And I’m not, so let’s go.”
“Ragh,” Fabian gently yet firmly positioned himself in front of Ragh and placed both hands on his shoulders. “You’re our friend, and we love you. You can tell us anything, even the reason that you’re crying. And if anyone has done anything to hurt you, we will not hesitate to tear them apart limb from limb and feed them to a demon of some sort.”
Sniffling, Ragh nodded and averted his gaze, staring down at his shoes. The laces were untied, and he was digging the toes into the dirt. “Alright uh,” he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “You know that new kid? The Dragonborn? Timothy Fangsong? The dude who hangs around Porter all the time?”
Gorgug frowned. He did vaguely seeing a green-scaled Dragonborn cornering their barbarian teacher once their class had finished, once. “Yeah? What about him?”
“He kinda, you know,” Ragh gestured wildly and rubbed at his arm and looked away, ashamed. Fabian glanced over his shoulder to see Fig now standing on the bleachers, her guitar practice discarded, and though he was too far away to hear what she was saying, he could see her gesturing pointedly at them, and he returned his attention to Ragh as he continued. “He kind of made fun of me, you know? Just a little bit, it’s not a big deal, but-”
“He what?” Gorgug and Fabian demanded at the same time and Ragh jumped backwards in surprise.
“Dudes, come on, relax,” Ragh pleaded as he held his hands up in front of him like a shield against their anger. “It’s not a big deal. I guess I’m just- overreacting or something. Let’s just get back to practice, yeah? I’m already late. I don’t want to miss out on the whole thing.”
Reluctantly, they followed Ragh back towards their Bloodrush team where training had already started and tried to enter the flow of the activities but couldn’t quite get into the swing of it. But no matter how hard they tried, they just couldn’t shake the look on Ragh’s face, and during the break at halftime while Ragh was talking to Gorgug as if nothing ever happened, Fabian caught Riz’s eye and waved him over.
Leaping from the grandstand, Riz made his way across the field, weaving between the legs of his larger and less-aware peers, until he reached Fabian’s side. “What’s up? Something’s up, right?”
“Yeah, something’s definitely up, The Ball,” Fabian crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Ragh. Gorgug saw him and Riz standing there with intense expressions and distracted Ragh by turning him away so he wouldn’t notice their scrutinizing looks. “You’re good at detective work. I need you to find a Dragonborn who hangs around the barbarian teacher named Timothy Fangsong. He’s new to the school. Can you do that?”
“I mean, probably,” Riz scratched at the back of his head. “Why?”
“He’s been picking on Ragh,” Fabian said. “And I think we ought to have a chat with him.”
Somehow, Riz’s eyes both narrowed and went wide at the same time. “Who the hell would be dumb enough to pick on Ragh?”
“Someone who probably knows that he’s been trying a lot harder lately not to hit people when he gets upset. Which someone would know if they hung out with his teacher often,” Fabian said. Gorthalax blew the whistle to signify that their break was over and Fabian waved Riz away. “Just find him. And tell Adaine to prep that gross spell that makes people puke.”
Wordlessly Riz darted away, and Fabian rejoined Gorgug’s side as the second half of their training commenced.
Ragh went home immediately once it was over- not like him at all- and waved goodbye to the Bad Kids waiting on the bleachers. While Fabian chatted to Gorthalax about next weeks game, Gorgug went and leant against the railing that lined the grandstand with a sweaty towel around his neck and his hoodie slung over his arm. He wasn’t looking very happy. “I’m assuming you guys heard,” he said sadly.
“The basics,” Kristen said. “Who’s ass do we need to kick?”
“Some new kid,” Gorgug said. “Fabian thinks that he’s been hanging out with Porter because he had his sights set on Ragh since he got here and wanted to know him better before he took a shot at him.”
Fig scowled. “I knew we couldn’t trust Porter.”
Her animosity was almost enough to make Gorgug laugh. Almost. Thankfully, Adaine fixed her with a sour look and snapped her spell book shut with a sharp, thump! “I’m thinking that this has less to do with Porter’s loose lips and more to do with some moron thinking they could pick on our friend without us hearing about it.”
“Well,” Kristen gestured vaguely, resting her chin on her staff. “Are we just going to sit here and chat about it or are we going to go and do something?”
Riz perked up. “He’s in the cafeteria with a few of the ladies from ranger class. I’m thinking he's a bard. I saw him talking to the guy who usually runs your class, Fig.”
“I never attend it, so I wouldn’t know,” Fig waved him off.
Fabian rejoined them, his Owlbears jacket slung over his shoulder and his mouth pressed into a hard line. “Are we going to deal with this or what?”
“When you say ‘deal with’,” Kristen tried. “How do you mean? Because we ‘deal with’ people a lot of different ways. I just want to know how badly we want to fuck this guy up before I make him believe he’s an ear of corn right out the gate.”
“I suppose we’ll decide when we get there,” Fabian said. “I haven’t got my expectations very high, so turning him into a corn cob isn't off the table.”
Kristen scowled. “Damn, turning him into a cob of corn would be so much cooler. I can’t do that though.”
“I’m sure we can figure something out,” Adaine comforted. “I’ve prepared my sickness spell. Making him puke in front of a bunch of girls might do the trick.”
“It’s a good start,” Fabian agreed.
With gusto, Riz led them through the campus, ignoring the students who tried to stop them for a chat, until they arrived at the cafeteria where- low and behold- a broad-shouldered, green-scaled Dragonborn took up an entire table for himself, surrounded by women wearing furs and leathers with bows slung over their shoulders. He wore a medallion around his neck that read ‘number one bard’ which immediately infuriated Fig. When the ladies would laugh at one of his bad jokes, he would wink at them and make them swoon.
“Wow, Fabian,” Gorgug muttered under his breath. “He’s like you if you were a jerk.”
“I don’t think you realize just how offence that comparison is,” Fabian retorted.
When they came to a stop in front of him, he looked lazily up at them. He raked over them with his eyes and obviously didn’t like what he saw. “Can I help you, kids?” he drawled.
It was Kristen who took the first step forwards. “We’ve heard that you’ve been bothering Ragh Barkrock and we’re here to tell you to knock it off.”
Timothy did not look convinced, and he snorted in amusement, throwing his head back and nudging the ladies around him. They didn’t seem quite as enamoured by him now. “Please, that meat-headed moron? That dude is dumber than a bag of cats and as dense as a brick wall.”
“You’re not too impressive yourself,” Fabian said. “Some teachers pet who picks on people to make yourself look cool.”
“And you’re some pirates son who can’t even make a name for yourself,” Timothy retorted. “Yeah, I’ve heard about the Seacaster’s. Everyone has.”
“Listen, fucker,” Fig pushed past Adaine and Fabian to lean right into Timothy’s face, her horns close to gouging out his eyes. “We’re the Bad Kids, and if you don’t cut out this bullshit, we’re going to make you wish you had never been born.”
Blinking, Timothy glanced between each of them in turn, looking at them in a different light under this new information. “You’re supposed to be the Bad Kids?”
“You sound surprised,” Adaine said.
“Yeah. From what I heard, the Bad Kids are supposed to be a group of ruthless sell-swords who don’t take no for an answer and who is known far and wide,” Timothy said. “But you don’t look like ruthless adventurers.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Adaine said unabashedly and unphased. “I don’t think you should be basing your assumptions on the rumours of others, most of them being people we’ve beaten and embarrassed before. You should be lucky that we’re giving you this second chance- we don’t usually do that.”
The women surrounding him fell totally silent. Timothy didn’t seem convinced, but without their boisterous encouragement, he no longer looked so much like the new hot-shot in town. “Right,” he scoffed. “I heard that Kalvaxus almost tore this place to shreds, this school and the whole damn town. He’s a hero where I’m from- putting the little people in line, making the rich man richer and the weak men weaker. I’m starting to think that maybe I heard wrong.”
“Kalvaxus? Kalvaxus?” Fig barked out a laugh and threw her head back, her pointed incisors on full display. She flew forwards until she was almost nose-to-nose to him, a cruel, mirthful grin on her face. “We kicked Golden-rods ass, motherfucker!” she pointed to Riz. “This dude ate his goddamn brains out of his head while he was still alive! Do you really think that Kalvaxus meant anything to us? Come on, dude. That’s embarrassing.”
Timothy recoiled and pointed a finger at Fig “How dare- what-”
“We’re only going to say this once,” Kristen said sweetly. Timothy’s eyes were wide and frightened as he looked between her, Fig and Riz, who was licking his lips and bearing his teeth. “Leave Ragh Barkrock alone or you’re going to regret waking up in the morning.”
“If you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us,” Gorgug said. “And we only killed Kalvaxus-”
“Twice,” Fig supplied.
“Twice,” Gorgug nodded. “Imagine what we could do to you.”
Blanching the only way a green Dragonborn could, Timothy tried to inch away from them on the bench, but Fabian put his foot on the seat and leant forwards with an expression he must have learnt from his father. “You must think that we’re kidding with you,” he said. “Otherwise, why would you still be sitting here, instead of trying to make amends?”
Adaine flicked her fingers and verdant sparks flashed at her fingertips, and Timothy began to look a little more green under the scales.
Gulping, Timothy wordlessly stood from the table and fled from them as fast as his legs could take him, and soon enough they watched his tail disappear around the corner, muffling a wet gag behind his fist. The women watched him leave, looking disgusted and disappointed and annoyed.
Satisfied with a job well done, the Bad Kids returned to their respective businesses, pleased with the outcome. Fig had her arms wrapped around Kristen and Adaine, and Gorgug helped Riz climb onto his shoulders, and Fabian felt absolutely proud of the work they’d done.
The next day, they were all seated at their table in the cafeteria, close enough to Gilear that Fig could chat with him but far enough away that they wouldn’t be too associated when Ragh burst through the doors and bounded straight up to them. “Dudes, like, what did you do?”
He looked like he was on the verge of tears, and Fabian immediately stood to attention with a hand on the hilt of his sword. “What happened?”
“Are you alright?” Riz demanded.
“Are you hurt?” Gorgug asked.
“No, dudes, no,” Ragh wiped at his face with his forearm and when he pulled away, though he still looked like he was about to cry, he was smiling. “I found this in my locker this morning. Did you say something to make him do this?”
Frowning, Fabian took the crumpled piece of paper that Ragh produced from deep in his pockets, and scanned the apology letter with discerning eyes. “Dear Ragh,” he read aloud, “I am sorry for the way I have treated you and hope that you can forgive me. I promise it will never happen again. Please don’t eat my brains.”
Riz cheered so loud that most of the cafeteria turned to stare at them, and Fig wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Fig, you’re a genius!”
“No, it was your prop work that did it,” Fig replied. “It was your idea to go all goblin-y.”
“What are you talking about?” Ragh looked so confused.
“We just told him to leave you alone,” Gorgug said. “I mean, we didn’t hurt him or anything. Well, Adaine might have cast a spell on him-”
“Just a small one,” Adaine pointed out.
“A small one, yeah, but we didn’t hurt him. We just told him to maybe…” He trailed off, at a loss for words.
“That maybe he should rethink his decisions and leave you be,” Fabian clapped Ragh on the back. “He’s fine, no harm done. Well, maybe to his ego, but no bodily harm. The apology letter was a good touch, though. We never told him to do that, did we?”
“Nice touch?” Ragh was laughing. “Dudes, he transferred. Back to the Red Wastes. He’s never coming back. You really scared him so damn bad that he left the continent!”
“Hallelujah,” Kirsten said. “Good riddance.”
Ragh’s face lit up and his eyes brimmed with tears. “You guys really did all that? For me?”
“Yeah man,” Gorgug said. “You’re our friend. We care about you. I know what it’s like to have people mess with you just because you’re different. I think we all do. And if he thought that he could get away with it just because he was new and thought you were an easy target, then we had to teach him a lesson.”
“We’re the notorious Bad Kids,” Adaine said. “If we can’t use that to our advantage then what’s the point?”
“You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us,” Fig repeated the term used the other day.
Weeping, Ragh threw his arms around Gorgug’s shoulders and dragged Fabian over so he could do the same to him, crying huge, sloppy tears down his face. “Thanks so much, you guys,” he blubbered. “You’re the best friends I’ve ever had.”
“Hoot Growl!” Fabian shouted, and the rest of the cafeteria carried on the chant, none louder than the Bad Kids themselves.