“Wait, wait, wait!” I took a moment—which was all I had—and gathered myself. I tried to pull my arm away from Curr in hopes of preserving it a bit longer, but he had a grip like the Jaws of Life.

“I meant no disrespect. Really,” I said. “After all, I thought as braugs, you guys would appreciate the violence. Am I right?”

Curr still squeezed my arm like a stress ball, glaring down at me. He’d have made Andre the Giant look like a green bean.

“We do appreciate violence,” he said. “And Vulna can certainly tear a man apart with ease. But the manner of your song left us feeling a little like we had been disrespected. We do not like being disrespected.”

“Rip off his arms, Curr!” Fargus roared.

I did my best impression of a puppy dog begging not to get kicked—or in this case, have my bones extracted. And here I thought getting punched by Kurt had been bad.

By some stroke of luck or fortune, Curr raised his other hand. “Now, now… perhaps we are a bit hasty with that decision.”

“Thank you. Thank you,” I said. “I was only trying to entertain, like you asked. I meant no disrespect.”

Curr frowned. “With a performance like that? You would fail to procure a job serenading the deaf.”

Well, that was cruel.

It was also true.

“It was an especially awful series of notes there at the end,” Curr continued. “Do you not understand keys and scales?”

“Look, I’m kind of new at this,” I argued.

That was the truth. I still didn’t even know where I was or what I was doing there. Not to mention I had no idea how to properly play a lute, which made inventing a song to sing along with all the more difficult. However, I knew one thing from my career as a performer: don’t piss off the locals.

Curr pointed to my lute. “Looks like you have been in possession of that for some time.”

I followed his gaze to the well-worn instrument. It had a small hole like Willy Nelson’s guitar, and most of the paint had worn off.

“I… uh… got it secondhand.”

“You what?”

“Used,” I explained. “It was used when I got it.”

“By someone better than you, no doubt.”

Just then, my stomach rumbled so loudly, even Curr noticed.

He squinted. “When is the last time you partook of a meal?”

“Uh…”

The screen flashed.

Three days.

Three days? What the actual—?

Almost Four.

I sighed. “It’s been a while, apparently.”

“And yet you had enough coin for a drink?” Curr said. He got even closer to me, which was like being downwind of a port-a-potty. “Perhaps you should have spent that meager earning on a leg of lamb. Or lute lessons.”

“Oof. I can’t stand the taste of lamb,” I said without thinking.

“Don’t like lamb?” Fargus snatched the meat from his fiancée’s hand and threw it at me. The leg of lamb hit my left arm and bounced to the floor. “You want to eat, little man? There’s your meal.”

I looked down at the meat on the gross tavern floor. It was already covered in dirt and God knows what else, given the lack of cleanliness of the entire room.

Curr pointed. “You hit him in his ulna!”

At that, the whole crew of braugs broke out in a fit, slamming tables and shoving one another.

When it all settled down, Curr said, “That will be our payment for your… services tonight. I suggest you accept that small token, because Fargus gets upset when people take advantage of his generosity. And I know you would not want to do that.”

I nodded. “Of course, of course.” I bent and picked up the already gnawed upon leg of lamb using my index finger and thumb.

ITEMS OBTAINED:

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Leg of lamb (“cooked” sort of), origin questionable, two small flies.

I peered closer. There really were two flies on it, battling for meat. I shooed them away, but they just flew for a second and returned to duking it out.

Fargus chuckled. “Aye, take a bite. I’m sure you’ll find it as delicious as we did.”

I swallowed hard. “Oh, I’m not so hungry at the moment.”

Then my stomach betrayed me again, launching into a digestive orchestration that managed to silence the entire room until they were all staring at me with judgmental glares.

I had no choice.

I steeled myself and brought the leg to my lips. Closing my eyes—not sure why—I bit into it and nearly heaved. The only thing keeping me going was the threat of dismemberment if I didn’t manage to choke this down.

What kind of sick dream is this? Maybe I am dead.

You’re not dead.

So, I’m dreaming?

No response. Of course.

“Oh, it’s just lovely, thank you,” I said to Fargus as I forced it down my throat.

HUNGER: 30%

You’re not going to last much longer without more food.

“Well, I guess I’ll be going now,” I said through clenched teeth. “You all have a lovely night.”

“Not so fast,” Curr said.

My stomach was already reeling, and I just wanted to get away so I could vomit in peace. “What now?”

He extended his massive hand. “The lute. I am afraid we have a duty to render it… dead. There is no way, in good conscience, I can let you go back out into the world, torturing people with what you call music. Hand it over.”

“Really? But it didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It could be used as a weapon of torture in your hands.” Curr’s fingers closed over the instrument’s neck, and he snatched it away from me. Even if I tried, it’s not like I could’ve stopped him.

“Take your meal and go,” he said. “I suggest you do not try to play for braugs again. It is only because we have had our fill of killing that you are even walking out of here with your life.”

I started backing away slowly, fearful my guts were going to turn inside out at any moment.

Curr raised the lute before the crowd. “And now…” He smushed it between his hands, crunching it into shards. “The threat is over.”

Fists slammed on the tables, and braugs clasped arms in victory.

That was now my second instrument destroyed lately.

He wasn’t even wearing gloves. I’m not sure why I worried about him getting a splinter as he removed his hands and the pieces tumbled to the floor. Then he picked up a couple of them and handed them out to be used as toothpicks.

I hurried away, the leg of lamb still dangling in one hand. Behind me, the braugs celebrated jovially.

Rarmir scowled at me as I passed. “Another man might’ve lost his life there tonight. You’re a damned fool, Daniil.”

“Danny,” I said. “It’s Danny.”

Rarmir waved me off. “Out of my establishment. I don’t need angry braugs asking me why I put up with the likes of a talentless bard in my place. Especially one who tries to fleece my customers out of their hard-won coin. Now get.”

He stabbed his finger at the door.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I’d learned long ago to feel the tide of a crowd turning. I missed Trish and her trophy-wife friends. They appreciated me at least.

“I’m not talentless,” I said as I found the exit—a big, chunky wooden door—and pushed out. No knob to turn or anything.

It was dark outside, the moon covered by thick clouds. The only illumination came from torches here and there. I was on some sort of cobbled street, the silhouettes of low structures in every direction. No bright Taco Bell sign where I could get some late-night grub. Not like I even had the couple of bucks for that.

The screen popped up.

CURRENT LOCATION:

Nahal, Main Street.

I made it three steps before leaning on the tavern wall and gagging. I expected my stomach to empty all over Main Street, which in reality wasn’t much more than a muddy track, but nothing came out.

Lightning flashed overhead.

Great. Now it’s gonna rain.

Imminently.

The only saving grace was, as the first few drops fell, I was able to wash out my mouth and spit the bad taste to the side of the road. That relief soon turned to worry. It was cold and the rain was even colder.

Helluva way to end the night. Would be nice if I had a map.

I’m sorry. I’m not a GPS.

Fantastically unhelpful.

I examined the street. To my right, it was dark. To my left, even darker. Fog billowed in the distance regardless of which direction I chose. So, taking a right turn, I wandered aimlessly down the street.

The stone and wood buildings clustered on either side of the street started to thin out. It looked like a set from Game of Thrones as I passed all manner of shops and market stalls, each one closed for the night. Save for a few houses atop a hill to my left, the only place with lights on—so to speak—was the tavern behind me and a small inn at the edge of town. Too bad I had no money. I would have to find somewhere safe and, hopefully, dry to sleep.

As luck would have it, I spotted a stable attached to the inn on the northern side—okay, fine, who was I kidding? I had no idea which direction north was, or if there even was a north in this weird-ass world.

I paused, waiting for the screen to inform me of the cardinal directions, but when no response came, I made my way to the stable.

An overhang would shield me from the rain and elements, and there was a pile of hay in one corner I could curl up in. Despite the weirdness of whatever was going on, maybe falling asleep, buried in some soft hay, would make things right. Maybe I’d wake up, safe and sound back in the real world.

At least for now, rest would be grand. And I had no doubt the stable would smell better than those unwashed braugs.

It’s now pouring.

Master of the obvious. Because I couldn’t possibly extrapolate that valuable piece of information from my soaked clothes.

Two horses turned toward me and whinnied softly.

“Sorry about this, guys,” I said. “I’m just here for the night while I figure out what the heck is going on.”

I half-expected the horses to talk back, but they simply snorted and turned away.

The clouds had all but blotted out the moon now, and the blackness grew so thick, I was forced to feel around with my foot once under the covering. Locating a tall hay bale, I settled in. It wasn’t the Tempur-Pedic mattress I still owed two grand on, but it was pretty comfy.

I shifted this way and that until I had most of the support I needed and then leaned back. For a moment, I considered trying the lamb again, but couldn’t stomach it. I held on to it anyway, knowing if I woke up hungry enough, I might then have the courage to eat it.

Overhead, the pitter-patter of rain drummed along the roof. I was asleep before I even knew what was happening.