That had to be them.
There was an orc with a broadsword, a half elf in what was clearly a wizard’s robe, a halfling who looked like she was preparing to pickpocket every tavern patron, and a human female.
The human female was carrying a lute on her back and was trying to hide a nervous expression. She wasn’t succeeding.
It had to be them. It had to be her.
I had heard about them, this group of adventurers. Except… they never seemed to do much adventuring. I had heard they just went from tavern to tavern each night… and well, the rumors just became increasingly unbelievable after that. Things even I, a seasoned journalist at Eight Magazine, hadn’t believed. And I thought I’d seen everything.
The group walked up to the bar. The orc hung back, keeping his eye on the door.
The wizard sat down, looking nonplussed. He pulled a heavy book that was much too big for the bag that was carrying it, and started to leaf through it nonchalantly.
I watched a group of burly locals get up to confront them. I held my breath, as I excitedly set my new Quill of Dictation +2 to record everything for my next story.
The head of the gang spoke to the three at the bar. “We don’t like your kind here.”
The threat was implicit, and the tension in the room was palpable.
The halfling bumped the human forward. “That’s you, bard. Show ’em your famous diplomacy.”
The human looked stricken. “I… I can’t…” she stuttered. “I can’t do it. Don’t make me do this again.”
The halfling sneered at her. “Do you want to find the dragon’s treasure or not? Now, one of these nice people might know something.” Her eyes got very round, in mock concern. “Maybe you could try the lute. Maybe it’ll work this time.”
The human started to cry. “Please… please, no.”
“Get up there, now. Use that whore mouth.”
Image credit: DegradeDeny