3. LAUGH AND PLAY

Nanoc and his friends sat on one side of a broad kitchen table while the farmer sat on the other. The farmer’s daughter hovered uneasily beside him as if ready to run. The farmer was a big man with a red face and tired eyes, a real man of the land, but his daughter, Mary, was a teenager dressed in black, with silver skull jewelry pinned across her arms. She wore dark eyeshadow, too, and was so pale that Nanoc had almost staked her through the heart right away, but she wasn’t a vampire, just a goth. She did not look like she belonged on the farm, or even outdoors. Despite their differences in appearance, the farmer placed a comforting hand on his daughter’s arm and looked at her with affection.

“We really hope you can help us,” he said. “No one else will come.”

“We can help,” Nanoc said.

“We might… for a price,” Rotcel ‘Loc corrected him.

Mary placed a dozen slices of bread on the table and the three heroes reached for them. The bread was stale, but nobody complained. The farmer stood and walked to the larder, returning with several shriveled apples which he shared around. Nanoc nodded in approval.

“Tell us everything,” Dren said, opening one of his little notebooks.

The farmer took a deep breath, sighed, and began their story.

“Mary had a little lamb,” the farmer explained.

“A little lamb?” Nanoc asked, surprised.

“Yes, Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow. And everywhere that Mary went—”

“Mary went,” Dren said, scribbling in one of his many notebooks. “Mary… went.”

“And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go.”

“Everywhere,” Mary repeated grimly. “Everywhere.”

“It followed her to school one day.”

“School one day?”

“School one day,” Mary said.”

“Yes, it followed her to school one day which was against the rules,” the farmer continued.

“Forget the rules,” Mary said. “Tell them what happened next.”

“It made the children laugh and play,” the farmer said as Mary stared down at the table, caught in the terrible memory of that day.

“It shouted at us,” Mary whispered. “It screamed ‘Laugh!’ and ‘Play!’ and used magic to control us as if we were puppets. Have you ever seen teenagers laughing and playing? It isn’t pretty.”

“And so the teacher turned it out,” the farmer said.

“Turned it out,” Dren said as he made a few notes.

“Turned it out, yes. And so the teacher turned it out, but it still it lingers near.”

“We don’t dare leave the farmhouse,” Mary said. “We hear it all the time, roaring through the fields and barns, looking for creatures to bully into entertaining it. It lit a fire in one of the barns when the rats there wouldn’t dance for it. That was a week ago. Since then, it's been turning the other sheep into those things that attacked you.”

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Dren considered this. This was all a bit odd, even by the somewhat flexible standards of Above and Below, but he was sure there was an explanation. Perhaps a god had blessed the lamb, or cursed it, or some mage had cast a dark enchantment on it. Perhaps it was a summoning gone wrong, a ghost, a possessed, a magical calamity, or maybe just prank played by a god with a strange sense of humor. Such things happened all the time. That’s why the Guild of Heroes had been created. Well, that and ransacking dungeons for treasure.

“Everyone in the nearby village is too scared to help us,” the farmer said sadly. “So we wrote to the guild, but we got no answer until you showed up. You’re… you’re really with the guild, right?”

Nanoc grabbed another slice of bread with one hand and dug around in his pocket until he found a piece of paper with the title ‘Provisional-rank Hero’s license’ and the name ‘Nanoc the gnome’ written neatly beneath it. The farmer’s face fell at the sight of the gnome’s low rank.

“I hold a journey-ranked license,” Rotcel ‘Loc said quickly, pulling out a silver plaque and flashing it. The farmer raised his head slightly at this good news, then shook his head.

“It will take more than that,” he said. “The lamb ate a cow whole last night.”

“I could eat a whole cow,” Nanoc muttered.

“No, I mean a whole cow in one bite,” Mary said. “Do you really—"

Nanoc was too busy eating to listen to any more of the conversation. His meal was interrupted by a burning feeling in the dagger sheath at his side. The magical banana he carried was so hot that it stung his fingertips as he brushed them across its skin. As soon as he touched it, it made a new demand.

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New quest!

Destroy Mary’s evil lamb or DIE TRYING! Failure to attempt this quest will lead to the loss of your class and levels…

Reward: Reach the next level of your class.

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“Don’t threaten me,” Nanoc said, glaring at the banana. Then he paused. “I was going to do it anyway.”

He glanced at his friends. Rotcel ‘Loc was shaking his head, and Dren did not look overly eager to go after a cow-eating monster.

“We’ll need to discuss this,” Nanoc said to the farmer. “Give us a minute, please.”

He gestured to his friends to join him on the other side of the kitchen, and they put their heads together.

“They’re describing a possessed monster of some sort,” Rotcel ‘Loc whispered to Nanoc and Dren. “It must be huge if it ate a cow, the kind of monster that takes a high-level party to defeat. We should run.”

“Do you know, the lizardling is right,” Dren agreed. “This beast is beyond our ability to beat.”

Nanoc shook his head. He was going to fight the beast, that much was clear, but he didn’t want to do it alone. How could he convince the others to join him?

“What else can you tell me about this beast?” he asked Mary. “Did it have any treasure on it?”

“It had a purple crown on its head,” she replied. “I don’t know where that came from, but—"

“A crown?” Rotcel ‘Loc interrupted her. “A… crown, you say?”

“A crown,” Nanoc repeated, nodding. “A possessed sheep with a crown. That sounds interesting, doesn’t it, Dren? Perhaps even unique. It’s certainly something other people will want to know about.”

Rotcel ‘Loc raised a hand as if to protest, but Nanoc mimed putting a crown on his head. The lizardling slowly dropped her hand. Dren was even easier.

“Do you know, that does sound interesting,” Dren said. “I’m sure I saw some mention of a possessed goat in one of these books—”

Nanoc turned to the farmer and Mary.

“We’ll do it,” he said. “

“We’ll need to charge a high fee for coming all the way out here,” Rotcel ‘Loc said quickly.

“Will we?” Dren asked, confused. “Why? We were just passing by, after all.”

“We are poor folk,” the farmer said sadly. “But whatever we have is yours.”

“We shall do it for food and glory!” Nanoc shouted. “Do not worry, for we shall slay this foul lamb and return victorious!”

His speech would have been a lot more inspiring coming from someone over five feet tall. His barbarian class was strength-based, and he was a gnome. Spindly. Short. More skin than muscle. Gnomes were known to be good with a pen, but a sword? No, that was madness. The farmer shot Nanoc a worried glance, wondering if the gnome was really mad. Did it matter? Maybe a little insanity was precisely what was needed.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Mary asked skeptically.

“Don’t worry, Nanoc is actually quite good at this,” Dren told her. “I think there’s a reasonable chance he might not die. Did you know if there was any more of that bread?”