The bell above the door jingled as a group of four adventurers entered the magic mug. Mossy nudged Tawney with an elbow as he poured steaming hot coffee into a to go cup. "Look at that lute that adventurer is holding. It's so amazing, you can almost see the magic glistening off of it."

Tawney looked up with a dreamy expression on her face and said, "Oh yeah, that's pretty good. It reminds me of the style my uncle used to make.

"Hey, speaking of your uncle and making things, do you still think you could, you know, help me out with a better fix on the guitar? If I can get you the supplies you need, that is."

"Oh yeah, I probably could. Yeah, I'd need wood glue and those tiny little nails some sandpaper I feel like my uncle always had more things than that. I don't know. Maybe I'd have to write him to see if he has a list of supplies I might need. You know, it's so much easier when you're using someone else's tools. You can just - Hey Mossy. Where did you go?"

Mossy had followed the group of adventurers to the register in order to better hear what they were ordering.

"Yes, all have 23 Solar strength drafts, Dark Roast." Said the knight in shining armor.

"25 mayham macchiatos for me." Grunted the musclebound human with an ax on his back.

"I would like 19 decaf deacon delights." Said a white-robed priest poking his head out from behind the massive barbarian.

"Oh, and I'll have 18 lyrical lattes topped with satirical cinnamon." The woman’s voice had a subtle music to it, like a laughing brook was reciting a limerick.

Even though the other three adventures had ordered first, Mossy rushed over to the espresso machine to complete the lyrical lattes. Even though he knew he should have been working on the other 80 or so drinks in order.

Once she had rung up the adventures’ orders, Bloodwyn slithered over to check up on her coworkers. "Now, Mossy, what’ve I told you about going out of order? You'll lose track."

"But bloodwyn Just look at that Lute." He said, looking at the ornately carved instrument. "I just, a bard with a lute like that has got to be amazing. What if I make the best latte ever? Then she decides to teach me something about, you know, music or something, or maybe she's got another lute that she's willing to part with; I just have to make the best impression."

"Mossy, we talked about this."

"but"

"No buts; make those drinks the way you’re supposed to."

"Man." Mossy turned back to the drink he was making.

"Sinew," said Tawney abruptly.

"What?"

"To make the proper strings."

"Strings for what?"

"For your guitar, silly."

"Wait, what?"

"I was just thinking of what we were talking about earlier."

"Oh, yeah. Tell me what you need, and I'll save up to buy it." He trailed off at the end of the sentence. A little embarrassed. He had somehow only managed to save up three gold coins. In the past week, despite promising himself he would do everything he could. He was beginning to think that there was no way he could get a proper working guitar before the battle of the bands.

Several minutes later, the gang had finished making the adventurers drinks, which they put into their bags of holding. They walked cheerfully out of the coffee shop, sipping on their various caffeinated concoctions.

"So, Mossy, how's it going with the one guitar I was able to fix up for you?" Asked Tawney in a slow, dreamy tone.

"Oh, it's going fine with that one. I can't really play swamp rock, but at least I can play something right. It's just not the same, needing to be so careful and gentle. Wait a sec, what's going on out there?" Mossy gestured out the front window.

Tawney’s gaze swiveled lazily forward, only to see a bright flash of light out in the square.

"WHAT THE? NO! IT'S AN ADVENTURE FIGHT!" yelled someone outside.

"Adventurer fight?" Tawney and Mossy looked at each other. "What do we do?"

"Jinx!" Exclaimed Tawney.

"Dang!" Replied Mossy.

"It's okay, guys; calm down," said Bloodwyn. "If we keep our heads, this will blow over in no time."

Mossy looked out the window. Eight black-clad figures surrounded the four adventurers, whom they had just sent out with coffee.

The muscle-bound adventurer pulled the massive axe off of his back, bellowed in rage, and leapt forward to attack a black-clad Figure. The figure skillfully hopped back, dodging the swing of the axe. It seemed as though the energy of the swing had created a blade, like a Shock Wave in the air, that cut several feet past where the adventurer had swung. The shock wave enabled him to score a direct hit on the masked assailant.

"Wow!" said Tawney. "That's amazing."

"I know right," said Mossy. "Imagine if you could use those as a light show at a concert."

"That would be a pretty dangerous concert."

"Well, yeah, sure, but you know what I mean."

"You two get back to work," called Bloodwyn from across the cafe.

"But there are no customers," complained Mossy.

"There's plenty of cleaning to do. Look, if we can focus and get some of the pre-cleaning stuff done, we might be able to close up early today."

"No offense, Bloodwyn, but I could kind of use every penny that's coming to me this shift. I need to fix up my guitar. Besides, where do you have to go in a hurry?"

"Oh, I just want to finish up a project for my internship. I’m working on transformation potions and various delivery systems. It's really fascinating stuff.

"So you want to leave work early so you can do more work?"

"I mean, if you put it like that, yes. Yes, I do."

"All right, all right, I’ll clean," said Mossy, picking up a rag.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Just then, there was a loud, concussive boom from outside in the square. The front door briefly blew open with a wave of hot air and discarded concert flyers.

"Was that a thunder scream?" Mossy’s eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. "I heard bards can do it where they just yell and it creates a wave of force."

"I saw a band do a lesser version of that spell on stage at Radacast the other day," said Tawney. "It was wild; it blew out my hair something fierce, and when your whole body is hair, that's saying something."

"Man, I miss out on all the cool stuff." Mossy said as purple and blue flashes of light flickered across the front window.

"Mossy, what did I say? clean!" Said bloodwyn. "If Mr. Beanhammer catches you staring out the window instead of getting work done, he may cut your shifts."

"Man," said Mossy, starting to scrub down the drip tray beneath the pour-over coffee. Despite Bloodwyn’s chiding, Mossy couldn't help but turn the occasional glance out of the window. It looked like the heroes had been holding their own so far, but one of the black-robed figures had summoned a swarm of bats to distract them.

The knight in shining armor with long blonde hair was squaring off against the tallest, strongest-looking figure in the blackest outfit. She swung her golden sword towards the dark figure. Her weapon was met by a blade of pure shadow. The collision of their weapons created sparks and crackles.

To Mossy, it seemed like it almost created a dance beat as the weapons rhythmically collided with one another.

"You are no match for the Obsidian Hand Of Daggoroth!" said the darkest figure as it struck the knight in the shoulder. "We will have the void sphere returned to us, and the cult will reign supreme! Daggoroth will be restored!

"Who do you think Daggorothh is?" Asked Mossy.

"I don't know. Some evil wizard," said Tawney.

"Yeah, but like, do you know, like, Have you ever heard of Daggoroth before?"

"No, but you know, with followers like that, it's probably some kind of wizard, you know, maybe an undead Lich or a necromancer or some sort of crazed summoner of spirits from beyond our universe, but you know, evil."

"Yeah, you're right. Definitely evil."

"Are you two lads cleaning or talking?" The gruff, dwarfish voice came from the back room.

"Cleaning, Mr. Beanhammer." They said in unison.

"As it should be." He noted.

Mossy got back to scrubbing as Tawney went back to sweeping. Several minutes later, Mossy’s concentration was again shattered by a loud, booming voice. "Behold, the demon Gh’abber’Doth emerges from my portal."

"See," said Tawney. "Definitely evil."

Outside, Mossy could see a 20-foot-high tear in space, like the air was a thin sheet cut down the middle. It was rimmed in fire, and a red-skinned demon was pulling itself out. The team of adventurers had gathered into a tight group and was peppering it with spells and arrows as it emerged.

Tawnie’s jaw dropped open, and she stopped sweeping midstroke. "Oh, This doesn't look good."

"You two, what are you doing?"

The voice broke her out of the trance. "Sorry, Mr. Beanhammer."

"Now look, I understand there are interesting things happening out there, but we have a business to run. Now stop goggling out the window, and oh my, that's a big boy."

"see"

"Ay, for something that big, they might even call in the dragon."

"Wait, aren't you feuding with the dragon? Oh, ay I am, but he’s sworn to protect the city, and so I will happily take his protection when it involves demons that big."

"But wait, Mr. Beanhammer, what happens if the fighting comes inside? Are we safe here?"

"Oh, ay yes. An old wizard friend of mine put some protection magic on that front window. It would take the Dymmie Suu’lth herself to crack it.

"Oh."

"Not even the dragon of the city could get a fireball through that window. We’re quite safe... unless they come through the door, I suppose."

Mossy steeped up next to the two of them to look out the window. "Speaking of fireballs, that big demon guy sure likes to throw them around."

The demon had fully emerged from its portal at this point. It was conjuring balls of flame in its hands and lobbing them at the adventurers. Who, for their part, were diving out of the way. The knight, the barbarian, and the priest all seem to be fast enough; the bard, however, was not. One fireball straight to the chest caused the musically inclined adventurer to sprawl out on the ground, hardly more than a dozen feet outside the door to the magic mug.

"Mr. Beanhammer, we've got to do something. she's gonna."

"Leave the adventure to the adventurers. You've got nothing that can protect you out there. Stay in here on this side of the magic barrier."

No sooner had he said it than a fireball crashed into the window. Interrupted into a massive conflagration of red and yellow flames, which completely blocked the entire view out of the front of the shop. The window began glowing a faint blue, and within moments the flames were fully dissipated with a shower of twinkly sparks. "See, lad, not a scratch on the place; we're fine."

"I've gotta do something," said Mossy as he walked towards the front door.

Bloodwyn looked at Tawney and said, "I swear, He is going to make us so late for closing today."

"Yeah, but you know, it seems like the decent thing to do."

"No, they're adventures; they signed up for this life. We townsfolk need to keep our heads down and not make a fuss; otherwise, the evil monologuing villains in black robes will start coming for us. It happened to a cousin of mine, and trust me, you do not want that kind of attention."

"I suppose."

The two looked up at the sound of a twinkling bell to see Mossy dashing out of the front door. He ran straight towards the prone bard, completely unaware of the sphere of utter darkness gathering above the square.

"Now that I have reclaimed the void sphere, I shall resurrect my master, Daggoroth the Dark!" You puny adventurers are no match for the Obsidian hand. I will rip space and time apart to curse you to oblivion, crushed in a single point of void. At the last moment of your doom, your doom shall stretch for eternity, and the last sound you hear will be my name, Derick, the villainous!"

Pebbles began to float off the ground, followed by concert flyers, rocks, and chairs, and finally carts selling sausages in buns. The water in the fountain of Radacast began to flow upwards towards the sphere in the sky.

Mossy's feet began to lift off the ground, and his fingers were mere inches from the hand of the bard he was running towards. At the very last possible second, he kicked off and launched himself toward her.

"What is that, you think? Some kind of levitation sphere?" Asked Tawney conversationally.

"Ay lad, no. That is the void sphere; it bends time and space around a point of pure void. It warps the reality of anyone who enters it into a single point that stretches on for infinity.

"That sounds fun," said Tawney.

"Fun being ripped apart? Being torn to pieces, squished back together, devoured by chaos, and rendered into an infinite void of sensation. That sounds like fun?"

"Don't knock it until you try it." Said Bloodwyn.

"At any rate, we'd still probably best get after young Mossy." Mr. Beanhammer walked back into The supply room and came back with a long length of rope. He tied one end to a secure pole and the other around his waist. Then he tossed the middle to Tawney and Bloodwyn. "Now I'm going out there after the lad. You two pull me back in once I get to him."

Okay, Mr. Beanhammer," said Bloodwyn, half dazed by terror. The dwarf launched himself out of the door towards the elf, levitating several feet off the ground.

For his part, Mossy did not know what the ominous black sphere above him was or the danger he was in. So the gentle levitation reminded him of crowd surfing. He was carried away by a blissful sensation of lightness, imagining people lovingly caressing him and holding him up as they cheered his name. He had managed to make it to the bard and was holding on to her hand. Without being able to touch the ground, however, he was unable to control himself and was simply letting it all happen as he drifted blissfully up towards the void sphere.

"Lad grabbed my hand!" The voice snapped Mossy out of his revelry. He saw Mr. Beanhammer barreling towards him like a cannon ball.

"Oh, hi, Mr. Beanhammer. Sorry, I kind of got distracted."

"It's all right. Let's just take my hand. Everything will be all right."

"Okay." With one hand still on the floating Bard and the other hand cast out towards Mr. Beanhammer, Mossy managed to catch the dwarf's wrist.

"Now pull!" yelled Mr. Beanhammer.

The trio lurched down towards the door to the cafe. As soon as they passed the barrier, normal gravity returned, and Mossy found himself collapsing on top of Mr. Beanhammer, with the unconscious adventurer falling on top of both of them.

"We did it," said Mossy. "We saved her."

Lad, that was incredibly reckless, irresponsible, dangerous, and also kind of noble. Have you ever thought about being an adventurer?"

"No."

"Well, don't; it's terribly dangerous work, and pulling things like that would definitely get you killed if you ever tried. You’re best off singing your songs and making coffee. Trust me, I've tried both, and coffee is better."

"If you say so, Mr. Beanhammer."

Tawney and Bloodwyn hadn't been idle while watching this. They pulled the golden haired adventurer off of the elf and dwarf.

"This potion is based on my own design," said Bloodwyn. "It's an extract of caffeine and a mild mental clarity potion. I call it wake-up juice. It may be the secret to how I managed to spend so much time studying."

"Well, go on, give it to her," said Tawney.

The Naga tipped the potion down the adventurer's throat. She immediately opened her eyes and gasped, then leapt to her feet. "What was that? What's going on? Where am I?"

"It's okay. I saved you," said Mossy. "Look, you're back in the cafe."

"But my friends?" She looked out the window to see the knight and barbarian attack as one against the floating darkest-robed figure. The two of them managed to each slash through the figure at the same time, causing pieces of the evil wizard to flow into the void sphere. Without the wizard’s magic sustaining it, the void sphere collapsed down to a small black ball the size of a grapefruit. With its collapse, normal gravity was restored, and the adventures and all other objects from the square fell towards the ground with a clatter and a clang.

"Ouch, Remind me next time to wear more padding in my armor." Said the knight, pushing through the door to the magic mug. "I’m going to need another coffee after that."

"Make it a double," said the priest following her in. "Elena, you're alive! I thought you got hit by the demon's fireball."

"I was saved by this brave barista."

"Townsfolk don't save heroes; it goes the other way around," said the barbarian, sheathing his axe on his back.

"Well, this one saved the day today. And so," she said, turning around to him. "What can I do to repay your kindness?"

"Do you have a spare loot or guitar? It doesn't need to be fancy; it just needs to work."

Bloodwyn buried her face in her palm in embarrassment at how blatant Mossy's request had been, but it didn't seem to bother the adventurers.

"I’ve got a spare harp, a spare flute, an ocarina, and an old guitar we found in a phantasmic opera house. It's probably not cursed."

"I’ll take the guitar," said Mossy. "Wait, what's that about a curse?"

"Great, here you go."

"Now there'll be no stopping him." Said bloodwyn to Mr. Beanhammer.

"Ay, But at least this way he'll stop playing brooms."

"Fairpoint."

Mossy stood up and smiled, strumming his guitar. This had been a good day.