"So what, you want me to run around like a sheep dog and shoo them away?"
"No. I think we're supposed to kill th-"
"Stop! Stop!" Boss man is yelling a few minutes later. "That's good. That's enough." He waves smoke away from his face and steps away from the burning Kobolds we've managed to pile up. I can hear a few of the corpses sizzling a bit.
"You sure?" I say. "There's still a few left over there."
"Yes. We only needed to kill eight. Ugh. It smells like ... roast pig," he coughs.
"And wet socks. Filthy creatures."
"That was ... awful."
"Awful? We wiped these guys out. Just like the guy asked!"
"Yeah. But did you need to kill them that ... hard?"
There is a long silence. Finally I say, "Look, are you sure you're a warlock? You're not acting like a proper warlock. I mean, you're supposed to be into death."
He pulls out this neat little card and shows it to me. On the card is printed, "WARLOCK UNION." Underneath is written "DETHBRINGERR, APPRENTICE WARLOCK IN GOOD STANDING."
I hand him back the card, "The word 'death' has an A in it. And there should be less R's on the end."
"Yes," he says with a sigh. "They made me change it. Apparently there was already a Warlock out in the Wetlands that goes by 'Deathbringer'."
"So you spelled it wrong? Why not just pick another name?"
"Look, I tried. A lot of names were taken. A lot. I was just tired of filling out paperwork. It doesn't matter. It's not like that's my real name anyway."
"So what is your real name?"
"Norman the Warlock?"
"You see why I went with 'Deathbringer'."
"Deatherbringer-er," I correct him.
We head back to the church and I wait outside while Master Norman goes in and gets paid for the killing.
"So, what did we get?" I ask when he comes back out.
He looks down into his palm, "Twenty-five copper."
"What do you think one of these guys gets paid for an hour of standing around doing nothing about the Kobolds?"
He looks down at the coins again, "Mother says helping people is its own reward."
"So why'd you take the money then?"
"I just wanted to ... feel appreciated," he whines. He makes this motion like he's going to thow the money away, but then he stops and drops it into his pocket."
"You feeling appreciated right now?"
"No," he admits. "Not really."
"So ... arson?"
"We're not burning down the church and that's final!"
"What is your deal anyway? Why are you working for these guys?"
"Because I want to help them!"
"Yeah, I get how you're pretending to be good so they'll trust you, but what are you really after? What's your angle, here?"