“I feel so bad, treating a friend of Merlin the Wizard this way, please, you have to forgive me. If it’s any consolidation I would have released you in a week’s time.” Martha said, showing off her pearly whites.

“I forgive you,” I said, my words muffled by a mouthful of the extraordinary dish Grugnur had prepared. It turned out the ogre was quite the culinary artist, whipping up a fantastical meal composed of spicy cave mushrooms, crispy pixie wings, and the unexpectedly savory flank of a roly-poly rock troll. Under ordinary circumstances, I’d be a little self-conscious eating with an audience, but my hunger overrode any such concerns.

“You said you had a quest for me?” I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Yes, we do. You see, the ring you found in the dungeon is a very powerful artifact,” Merlin began, rising to his feet and pacing in front of the table like an agitated detective in a mystery novel

Oh no, not this ring business again. If he was about to suggest that we form a ragtag fellowship—comprising a wizard, an elf, a dwarf, a couple of humans, and a handful of hobbits—to journey through treacherous mountains, battle an orcish horde, and hurl the ring into a fiery volcano, I was going to turn him down flat.

“You see, Mr…eh Tim, that kobolds don’t dare venture into towns because they are scared of magic, and towns are riddled with magic presence. We think someone in the town must have taken it, and somehow passed it on to the kobold leader, and we need you to find out who it was.” Merlin stopped and looked at me. “This is an important quest, Tim. But do not forget to contact Lurin first. I have a feeling you'll need to muster every ounce of strength for this one.”

A P.I. quest! Now that was more like it, even if I didn’t think I had an option—this reeked of main quest. “Okay, quest accepted. But I’ll need a better weapon. I saw a bow in the cellar, hanging on the wall—I’d like that as a reward,” I flashed a toothy grin, gleaming like tarnished gold in the firelight.

“That bow is a formidable weapon,” Martha said, sending a withering look my way. She paused longer than a long-winded ogre’s tale before giving me a slow, reluctant nod. “If you discover who stole the ring and why, you'll get it,” Martha said before she resumed nuzzling in Grugnur’s sizable armpit.

***

“Salutations!” Lurin exclaimed as I approached him. He stood in a shed in the village town center known as "The Round." It was a rather uncreative name, given its resemblance to a large roundabout teeming with an assortment of sheds with vendors, trainers, and cafés. The centerpiece of the roundabout was a towering wooden duck perched atop what looked like a defunct fountain. I made a mental note to investigate the backstory behind the town's unique name. “Might I entice you with some melodies from distant lands?”

“Uh, not at the moment, thank you. I'm Tim. Merlin sent me,” I said to the peculiar man who was enthusiastically strumming a lute while humming a captivating tune.

“Ah, indeed! Welcome to Duckville. I am the esteemed Bard master of this town—a virtuoso of song, speech, and seduction. You've certainly sought out the right mentor. But, before I can impart my knowledge, you must demonstrate your worthiness. If you desire my tutelage, you must accept a quest to amass 10 Pengs!” Lurin beamed at me, his enthusiasm for this task blatantly evident. “The task is as straightforward as it's challenging. You must amass the funds before the sun drops beneath the horizon. Leaving the town borders is strictly forbidden, and your bardic prowess must be your only means of earning the Pengs."

“But...I only have Vicious Mockery, Light, and Ward!” I protested, giving him my most bewildered look.

“No! Those are merely your active skills. Your most potent and transformative skills reside within you,” Lupin responded, punctuating his words with a forceful thump on his chest, “They are the reason you were brought into this world as a Bard.” He paused, clearly relishing these theatrical breaks. His entire persona exuded a flair for the dramatic. “And that is…Charisma!”

“Charisma?” I felt the last traces of energy from Grugnur's meal dwindle. Charisma... The most underwhelming stat in the history of RPGs - The attribute no one truly understands or cares for.

“Yes. The most vital stat there is!” Lupin belted out, his arms weaving an intricate dance in the air. “Your charisma is high because you have a knack for drawing attention. When wielded correctly, nothing can stand in your way. So, are you prepared?”

“No?”

“Too bad, because the quest starts now. Go forth with the grace of beautiful melodies and come back bearing wealth!” Lupin proclaimed before promptly resuming strumming on his instrument. I glanced around, grappling with how I was going to get ten Peng before sundown.

***

After pacing aimlessly up and down the city's streets, waiting for an ingenious idea to strike me, I decided to head back to the inn and have a chat with the innkeeper about my reward.

On the Inn’s wall hang a poster I hadn’t seen when I entered town:

> - Wanted – Dead or Alive - The Thief Goblin – Kliobl. Last seen in the outskirt of the charred forest. Be warned – The Goblin is an adept fighter. Reward – 100 Peng.

100 Peng! My hand instinctively reached into my pocket to grab my phone and snap a picture of the poster. I really missed the things I had taken for granted, as my mobile phone’s camera. I had to remember it: Kliobl, goblin, forest, adept fighter. Check! When I played RPGs on my computer, I loved to do Wanted-sidequests. I was a completionist to the teeth. Too bad I couldn’t go into the charred forest and just complete the Bard quest at the same time.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Indeed, that's quite the predicament,” the innkeeper remarked as I explained my situation to him, all while ordering a pint of beer. He graciously served the drink on the house, along with the key to the room I had earned by getting Grugnur out of the bar.

“You're a bard, correct?” he casually asked while serving another patron. My attention was focused on the dwindling amount of beer left in my glass, and it took me a moment to realize he was addressing me.

"Uhm, mhm, unfortunately."

“Well, why not embrace it? Do what bards do best. Sing! If you're any good, I'll personally pay you five Peng if you perform until sunset. And if you can manage to earn another five Peng from the patrons, you'll have completed your quest,” he suggested with an air of certainty.

“No! Absolutely not. I sing about as well as a hoarse cow. I wouldn't wish that on anyone,” I said, swiftly draining the last of my beer.

“I find that hard to believe,” the innkeeper said. “I've yet to meet a bard who couldn't carry a tune. Come on, give it a try!” he urged, raising his voice just enough to attract the attention of a few nearby patrons.

I shook my head so vigorously that the room started to spin, just like a four-year-old when told to go to bed.

“Then you won't be able to do your quest. You know that the class quest is the most important quest there is. Without it, you will not even get close to your potential.”

I took a sip from the empty glass.

“Sing, sing, sing, sing!” The crowd started shouting, and I could feel my ears go hot.

I rose from my seat, clenching the inn's room key tightly in my hand. My mind was made up; I'd retreat to the safety of my room and sleep off this embarrassment, hoping the quest would respawn when I failed to complete it in time. Yet, just as I was about to make my strategic retreat, a word—magical in its ability to provoke—was tossed into the air.

“Are you a chicken!?”

My hand instinctively found the hilt of my rapier, the cool metal offering a sense of reassurance. Those standing near me took a step back, creating a small circle around me.

“Who said that?” I shouted. The only sound in the inn was the sound of my own shallow breath. I swiveled around, scanning the anxious faces that stared back at me.

With a resigned shake of my head, I sheathed my weapon. “So, you want to hear me sing? Me, of all people? Consider yourself warned, I have the worst voice in the world, any world! But if that's what you wish for, then so be it. Gather round, brace yourselves, and prepare to be traumatized.” I stepped up onto one of the yellow wooden chairs, the old wood creaking under my weight. Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath and began singing my favorite song:

She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean

She was the best damn woman that I’d ever seen

She had the sightless eyes, telling me no lies

Knocking me out with those American thighs

I stopped and waited for the cacophony of laughter, but there was complete silence in the bar. Slowly, hesitantly, I cracked open my eyes, half-expecting to find the room deserted or the patrons rolling on the floor in hysterics, in a literal embodiment of ROFL.

What met my gaze, however, was entirely unexpected. I almost lost my balance and toppled off the stool as I saw the crowd huddled closer around me, their mouths open, eyes wide with astonishment. Could it be? Had they... enjoyed it? Did they have some strange auditory deficiency? I resumed singing, this time with my eyes open and observing the crowd. The innkeeper navigated through the transfixed patrons and placed a hat at my feet.

Taking more than her share, had me fighting for air

She told me to come, but I was already there

'Cause the walls start shaking, the Earth was quaking

My mind was aching and we were making it

And then, there she was. As if materializing out of thin air amidst the throng of captivated onlookers, stood the most mesmerizing woman I had ever laid my eyes upon. Her hair, a torrent of vibrant crimson, was artfully tucked behind her delicately pointed ears. Her eyes were two pools of midnight blue, radiating a warmth that was as welcoming as it was entrancing. Her compact stature was distinctly dwarven, her silhouette an amalgamation of curves and muscular definition hinting at strength and resilience. Her radiant smile was infectious, a row of perfectly white teeth contrasting beautifully against her slightly tanned complexion.

I locked eyes with her, and at that moment, I sang. I sang as I never had sung before, every note infused with the unspoken emotions her sudden appearance had stirred within me.

And you shook me all night loooong

Yeah, you shook me all night looooong

***

“Did you see the female dwarf that was here?” I said to the innkeeper as I spread the contents of the hat across the counter. My understanding of the various coins was limited, so I motioned for him to take charge of the counting.

“Dwarves are common patrons here,” he muttered, sorting the coins into neat piles.

“She wore a green cape and stood right there, front and center!” I said, pointing to the spot where she had stood, my voice teetering on the edge of panic.

A shift in the innkeeper's demeanor signaled his discomfort. “It's best not to dwell on it, Mr. Tim. Some things are better left undisturbed.”

“Just Tim. What are you implying?”

“Your earnings from the crowd total 8 Peng. Along with my 5, that makes... let's see... eight, nine...”

“That's 13. But why are you avoiding my question? Who is she?” I pressed, my hands itching to grab him by the collar and shake the truth out of him.

“She’s not from around here. She is not… how can I say this. She lost her whole family in the charred forest. There are many rumors about Glorimrinelyn, but most of them are based on the same story. That she got mad, desperate in her quest to get the one that killed her family.”

“Glomrin…What?” I asked. What’s with these names?

“Glorimrinelyn Noblemaker. But some only call her Gloria,” the innkeeper said.

Why didn’t he start with that?

“Where can I find her?” I could feel a fire burning inside. I knew that I had to find Gloria, and I don’t know how, but I knew it was destined.

“Tim. You really shouldn’t. You will only get hurt. And not only physically. She is on a crusade against the elemental, and she will only get herself burned.”

“The elemental?” I asked.

“No, no! I've already said too much. Here's the 5 Peng I promised,” he said hastily, moving off to clean a table.

But I wasn't going to let him escape that easily. I chased after him, seizing his jacket. “Tell me where I can find her. Now!” I demanded, my voice echoing loudly in the inn. Anger seared through me. This wasn't like me at all - in my real life, I'd always kept my emotions under control.

“She stays in the Grey Forest, right on the edge of the Charred. She's got a cabin there. Speak to the merchant at The Round - he knows where it is. But please, don't mention my name. I need to get back to my work,” he pleaded.

I let go of him, my anger subsiding. “I need to complete my quest and report to Lupin before nightfall. Sorry for grabbing you like that, and thanks for all you've done today. You've been a good friend. By the way, what's your name?"

“Friend? I'm called Garret,” he replied, a smile flickering on his face before he turned away to continue his cleaning duties.

When I walked out of the Inn I could see the sun hanging heavy at the edge of the horizon. I was almost out of time.