I woke up with renewed energy in the m, determio crack the performance issue. After a breakfast of meat pie and a delicious fruit sad, I sat on the porch, thinking of a solution. It struck me that I needed something so different from the reality of this pce that it would be immediately clear it was a tale or a story, preventing any arguments. The first thing that came to mind was sce fi, so I tried to think of a suitable story.

  Star Wars?

  I sidered how te it, but even the first se of the first movie—or the fourth, depending on the numbering—was ten minutes long if I tur into a song.

  Hmm, the full movie would take two days. That won’t work.

  E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial?

  hey’d probably think he’s a monster.

  Then I had a stroke of genius—Aesop’s fables! Despite the talking animals, I was fident the moral lessons would resoh them.

  The first story that came to mind was The Tortoise and the Hare. I khe word for tortoise, and we’d seey of sea turtles on the isnd, so I was sure there were tortoises on nd, too. The problem was that I didn’t know the local word for hare or seen anything simir. As I tried to devise a solution, a few animal names popped into my head, but with al images or information—just words. I didn’t think it would work without knowing what animal it was.

  I’ll set it aside for now until I find the other main character.

  , I moved on to The Boy Who Cried Wolf. That wasn’t an issue—there are boys and wolves here, so it erfect!

  I spent a few hours pying with the words and melody until I arrahe parable as a bardic performance.

  Success!

  Just to be safe, I decided to prepare two more stories. If one didn’t work, maybe the others would.

  The story I tackled was The Ant and the Grasshopper. There were definitely ants here—I saw them everywhere, behaving like regur ants, walking in lines and carrying stuff. I didn’t know the word frasshopper, but I khe word for cricket, and I khere were crickets here. In the mushroom valley, we heard them cricketing every evening. Given all the hey make, I thought a cricket might even be more fitting for the story.

  I ahe story in verse and even searched through my o find a suitable piece for the cricket to py on the violin. I settled on Czardas by Vittorio Monti. After practig the fast ses on the violin, I successfully arrahe story.

  The third story I chose was The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing. There were wolves here, and we’d eveed them. While there were no sheep, I’d seen woolly farm animals with goat horns called ofsuns, which bleated well enough. Preparing these three stories took me all day.

  In the evening, I did a st rehearsal through the three stories, and our butler—who I learned was called Rid—found plenty of reasons to spend more time than usual in our suite while I rehearsed.

  During the st rehearsal, Rue sang-howled along with me. When I reached the part where the cricket’s tune came in on the violin, he danced all over the living room, looking so adorable that I had an overwhelming urge to squish him. The only reason I didn’t was that he was just too damn big for that kind of squishing.

  When I finished, I told him, “When I perform stories, you join in. We’re doing this for fun, and there’s no reason you shouldn’t have fun too.”

  In response, he wagged his tail a huimes a sed, slobbered all over my face, and excimed, “John is bestest best friend!”

  In the m, as we crossed the lobby, I stopped in my tracks. There was a man there, deep in versation with someone else. Perched on his shoulder was an enormous bird, simir to a bald eagle, but far more colorful, with shades of green, brown, and yelloale yellow snake coiled around his hand, and beside him sat the biggest cat I had ever seen—nearly as rge as Rue, and it looked fierd dangerous.

  I remembered to use Identify!

  Manul AstadiBeast Master Level 13

  He noticed me and bowed slightly. I returhe gesture. Rue, curious as ever, approached the cat to make friends. They both sniffed each other, then locked eyes. I was sure they were having a silent versation. Manul finished his chat and walked over to me.

  “Greetings, esteemed Bard,” he said with a respectful nod.

  “Greetings, esteemed Beast Master,” I nodded iurn.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet someone else with a familiar.” He turo Rue and added, “Greetings, distinguished familiar. My name is Manul; what is your name?”

  “Rue.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rue,” Manul said, pointing to the eagle. “This is Lepim,” he poio the shis is Shashik, and you’ve already met Daran.” He gestured to the massive cat.

  “My friends stay in the room when I run errands iy. I’m sure they’d be happy for a visit. I’m staying in suite 3304 on the 33rd floor.”

  “We’re neighbors!” I excimed. “We’re in suite 3302, also on the 33rd floor.”

  “Excellent, excellent! I’d love to chat more and learn where you found this magnifit creature, and of course, my friends would be delighted to have a new panion to share stories with. But I must warn you that the only thing that is Daran is food, so after the visit, your familiar might be hungry from all the stories.”

  I ughed. “The only thing Rue is ied in is food, too. Looks like both our familiars will be starving after their visit!”

  He chuckled as well. “It leasure to meet you, Bard John, and I hope we chat again soon. For now, I must hurry—I have an importaing.”

  “Don’t let us dey you,” I said, still smiling. “It leasure meeting you, and we’ll definitely meet again.”

  Again, I made my way to the performance square, set up a chair, and arranged my guitar and violin. After announg a Bard performance, I waited until several people had gathered around.

  I took a deep breath and reassured myself, You do this, John.

  Starting with the story of the cricket and the ant, I activated Harmonic Illusion while pying. Rue occasionally sang-howled along and, of course, danced during the part where I pyed the cricket’s musi the violin. As my performance tinued, more and more people approached, and by the time I fihere were over twenty people gathered around.

  When I finished, I braced myself fuments, ive reas, or strange questions, but instead, I was met with loud appuse, even stompi and whistles. People reached for their s, looking for something to pce them in. Of course, I hadn’t prepared anything—I was ready fuments, not appreciation.

  A tall man with a weathered fad kind eyes took off his hat and pced it on the ground, allowing people to toss their s in.

  I smiled at him and said, “Thank you. I fot to put down a tainer for donations.”

  “It’s okay, son. It happens sometimes,” he replied, his voice warm and reassuring.

  I quickly took out a metal boced it on the ground. The man transferred the s from his hat into the bowl, dusted off his hat, and nodded, putting it ba his head.

  I overheard enthusiastic murmurs from the crowd. They weren’t speaking to me directly, more to each other, but it was still fantastic to hear.

  “What a clever story...”

  “The moral of the story is important. I wish my children could hear it...”

  “The cricket’s pying was simply exquisite...”

  I took another deep breath, finally feeling a sense of relief.

  After the crowd finished chatting, I asked, “Would you like to hear aory?”

  Everyone nodded eagerly or shouted loud affirmations of “Yes!”

  A couple of voices called out from the crowd, “Wait a few minutes, I’m going to call some people.”

  “ you wait while I bring my wife and son?”

  “I’ll wait,” I assured them with a smile.

  A tall woman with blonde hair approached and asked, “Where is this tale from? I’ve never heard it before.”

  “From my homend in Lotam,” I replied.

  “Where is that?” someone else inquired.

  “It’s a smaller ti, northwest of the Lumisor ti.”

  “How long did it take you to get here by sea?” another person asked, their curiosity piqued.

  “Two months,” I answered.

  They seemed very impressed, with some letting out excmations of amazement.

  I tinued chatting with them until the two meurned with more people. Meanwhile, others joined in to listen, and by the time I was ready to start the story, over forty people had gathered around.

  This time, I performed The Boy Who Cried Wolf, and once again, the responses were warm and appreciative, with many s flying into my bowl. After I finished, I noticed my red light fshing, but I ig for the time being.

  “Would you like to hear one more?” I asked.

  The response was overwhelming appuse and cries of “Yes!”, “Of course!” and “Much more!”

  I then performed The Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing, and the reas were incredible once again.

  May the Spirits bless you, Aesop, wherever you are!

  By the third story, over fifty people were around me. After hearing I had told other stories before they arrived, they wao listen to them, too. I spent the rest of the day in the performance square, singing the stories over and over with short breaks to drink and chat with the audie some point, Rue stopped singing along and wandered off to watch other performances around the square. I was a little embarrassed to realize that I probably stole most of the audience, as when I gnced around, most of the other shows had only a few people watg. At the same time, a siderable crowd tio gather around me, growing rger by the minute.

  In the early evening, as more people arrived at the square—probably after finishing their day’s work—pushing and shoving started around me as everyoried to get close and have a good view. As a solution, I took out my operating table from Shimoor, climbed onto it, and tinued perf so others could see better.

  By the end of the evening, when it was pletely dark, I felt exhausted. My throat was sore from singing all day, but I felt eted. I had earhirty gold and some silver and copper and couldn’t have been happier.

  Back at the hotel, I finally checked the fshing light.

  Level up+3 Perception, +3 Vitality, +2 Creativity, +3 free points Bard Level 6Stat points: 3

  I remembered my decision st time and added the free stats to stitution. To top it off, Harmonic Illusion leveled up to 7.

  It was a good day.