What was I doing here?

How did it all come to this?

All I wanted to do is roam around the capital city of Nivella for a while, make a few coins with my stories and songs, meet a few beautiful women to spend the night with, maybe have the occasional drink and otherwise live a peaceful, eventless life.

But now? Now I was standing in the middle of a rundown camp, surrounded by thugs in rags who eyed me with distrust and outright hostility. "You got a lot of nerve just coming in here," one of them bellowed in my direction. I also was almost painfully aware that several weapons were readied all around me, and that my way out of this situation was blocked by no less than four goons with bloodlust in their eyes and primitive tools in their hands that would easily serve as very devastating weapons.

Well... like this was the first tough crowd I had ever encountered. I cleared my throat and smiled brightly, trying to look at everyone at the same time. "Good day to you people!" I offered them my greetings. "I am a traveller and wonder if you could give me some directions."

Most of them started laughing - not the hearty belly laugh that I was hoping for, but it was a start. "Oi!" one of them said - the one that had spoken up before. I assumed that this was their leader. He looked the part as well, having somewhat better armor than the others. "You talk fancy like those city folks. Why don't you give us your coin, and we'll... discuss this." He pronounced that word in a very mocking, ironic way, and I certainly noticed that.

But I was prepared for that sort of thing. "Ah, yes, of course." And without further ado I pulled out a bag of coins from my belt - not the one that I received from Garbus, because that was in dire need of some repairs. I threw it towards the leader, and he caught it - with a bit of a surprised look on his face. "I know that I am intruding on your group here, and for that you have my apologies. But I will make it worth your trouble."

The eyes of the leader brightened up as he saw the amount of gold in the bag I just gave him. In the meantime I tried to put my disarming charm to some use. "Say, you are such a fine band of independent..." I was struggling to find another complimenting adjective for those bandits, so I went with "strong-minded entrepreneurs. I see that you have put up a good business for yourself in this part of the world, so I wondered: Do you have a name under which you would be known?"

"En... what?" That was one of the other bandits, one that was standing behind me. Another one scratched his head, wondering aloud: "Inde... what?" A third one murmured: "Band? We don't play music..." Maybe I should adjust to that intellectual level - my usual vocabulary seemed very challenging. Maybe I should just burp.

The leader dropped the bag of gold onto the floor. His eyes flashed with anger. "You come in our camp, throw some gold and some fancy words around. Who the hell do you think you are?"

The men and women surrounding me came awfully close, until one of them suddenly paused. "Hang on! Are you some sort of... bard?"

That was exactly the kind of question I hoped to avoid. But I could hardly lie now, could I. "Well... as a matter of fact... yes."

One heartbeat later they came onto me. Hard. Like a bullrush.

But not with weapons. Not with fists. Worse. Much worse!

With questions!

Let me ask you: Have you ever been chased by a pack of wolves because they smelled that you have some fresh meat in your pocket and they were really hungry? This felt a lot like it. They stormed me with questions about stories that I tell. I was asked to perform their favourite songs or at least make a sign on one of their items (mostly their shields). They asked me if I was writing a new story and they could be part of it. And they pulled out their bottles of booze, offering me drinks from them, doing anything to get on my good side.

Children in the city chasing me for autographs, heavily armed bandits in the wild... All the same.

 For the next half hour or so I almost forgot about my mission because I was busy dealing with my fans. But finally the bandit boss got them spread out again and leave me some breathing space. He had a much friendlier demeanor now as well. "Still haven't told us what the hell you are doing here, bard? Research an epic, or what?"

"So to speak," I admitted. "I am travelling with someone, and we are in search for companions for our quest." When the bandits heard that, an excited mumbling came from them, so I quickly added: "None of you. Sorry, folks - that quest is not for you. It would cost you your lives." As I turned back to the leader, I continued: "Rumors say that there is someone out here who has given you an awful lot of trouble. I would like to meet her."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" He slapped me on my shoulder, and I almost fell head-first into a puddle of mud. "I was wondering if anyone would ever come for her - she is a real pain in the ass, you know? Come, I'll lead you to her."

He led the way, I followed. Though I was pretty perplex. That was much easier than I thought. The other bandits relaxed as we went deeper into the camp and towards one of the bigger tents. "Say," I addressed the leader as we walked. "Do you people have a group name or something? In case I'd like to reference you by name in one of my stories?"

"Sure," the leader answered. "We are the Butt Kickers of the Silent Forest."

Maybe it was better not to reference them by name. As we reached the tent, he stopped at the entrance, but instead of opening it, he just looked at me with a question in his eye. And I knew what he was asking without even asking it. "Well, it's... pretty tame," I commented on the name, just bending the truth the little by exchanging one single letter. "It certainly leaves an impression."

"So does my boot when I put it into people's asses," the leader answered and laughed. He finally opened up the tent, and we entered together. I wasn't sure what I would find in there - I just hoped it wouldn't be more fans of my work.