A Guided Joke

“Spencer Willis, as I live and breathe, how are you doing?” An unfamiliar voice called through the din of Wanderer’s Pub.

Spencer turned from tending the bar to look for who had called after him. The tavern was crowded, and no one stood out as needing his attention. Locals congregated into friendly cliques after a hard day’s labor. Travelers huddled over tables in groups of four or five, discussing past adventures or planning future ones. The warm fire in the hearth and softly dancing candles bathed the room in a gentle orange hue. Golden ale flowing in and out of mugs fueled boisterous laughter and friendly conversation.

“Spencer, hey!” A dark-haired man smiled and waved from the far end of the bar, “how are you doing?”

Spencer sighed as he made his way over to the stranger. He knew exactly what was about to happen, as it happened nearly every day – often several times a day. “Can I help you?”

“Name’s Wurcant, I was in here the other night. Everything still good? This place is really hopping. Good to see you’re doing well. How’s the fam?” Wurcant was dressed like a typical adventurer and carried a shield on his back and an axe on his belt. A chainmail tunic was visible beneath the collar of his dark grey shirt.

“What can I get you?” Spencer grabbed a beer mug and instinctively went to fill it.

Wurcant shook his head. “I don’t need anything… but, maybe my friends might like a drink. Three… uh, four ales. I really just want to hear about how you are doing? Everything is ok? Everything good? You’re a tavern-keeper, so you hear all the rumors and gossip, right?”

Spencer sighed again as he filled each mug and set the frothy golden drinks upon the counter, one after another. “You don’t have to pretend to be interested in my life. This town is a hub for adventurers. If you want to ask me something just…”

Suddenly, a sturdily-built man with a bright red beard and plain brown robes shouldered in next to Wurcant at the bar. He grabbed one of the drinks and drained the mug. In the next instant he slammed the mug on the bar, and placed a hand upon Wurcant’s shoulder. With the other he made a quick gesture, and proclaimed in a powerful voice, “I beseech the spirits of the wild to guide you!”

A flash of yellow flashed from the bearded man’s hand and seemed to infuse Wurcant. The bearded man then vanished into the crowd as quickly as he appeared.

“So listen, I was wondering if you had heard any rumors about…” Wurcant began.

“That was Guidance, wasn’t it?” Spencer blinked at Wurcant.

“Please… have you heard any rumors about…” Wurcant spoke as quickly as possible but stumbled over his words.

“That was a Guidance spell.” Spencer shook his head as he fixed Wurcant with his most disapproving expression. “I know how that spell works. That’s you trying to pull something over on me.”

“What spell? What are you talking about?” Wurcant spared a glance at the bearded man, who had made his way through the crowd and taken a seat next to a female elf in wizard robes as well as a halfling that was concealing his face beneath a black cowl. “I don’t even know that guy…”

The bearded man and the elf waved at Wurcant and gave him a thumbs up. Wurcant made a gesture back indicating they should stop interacting with him. He then rubbed his brow as he turned back to Spencer.

“That was Guidance. Whether it’s the ‘spirits of the wild’ or some other deity, it’s the same exact spell that every spellcaster throws around when they want to help someone do something specific. I hear that spell go off at least ten times a day in here.” Spencer glared at Wurcant. “Were you given Guidance to help talk to me?

“Just…” Wurcant stumbled over what he wanted to say. “Can we get back to our original conversation? How are you doing? How is business? Any… rumors?”

“Do not turn this back around to me,” Spencer snapped. “I want an apology.”

“For what?” Spencer’s expression became defeated. “I told you, I don’t even know that guy. If he wants to throw his Guidance around helping people, he sounds friendly. Anyway, I want to know about some rumors that have been going around about…”

“Forget it.” Spencer interrupted. “I’m not some Narrative Plot Contrivance who pours drinks and collects gossip for adventuring parties to investigate. I’m not talking to you if you’re not going to give me the respect I deserve.”

“What are you talking about? How am I being disrespectful?” Wurcant protested.

“You do not care about me. You are pretending to care so I’ll give you the information you want.” Spencer replied. “Not only are you insulting my intelligence, but you’re also trying to Persuade me… and you were given Guidance by that priest guy to help with that!”

“Druid…” Wurcant corrected.

The black-clad halfling, who had been observing the exchange, stood up from his seat next to the elf wizard and portly druid. He made his way towards Wurcant and Spencer, but once he arrived at the bar only the top of his cowl was visible. He spent the next few moments clambering atop a stool that was much too large for him. Once he was seated next to Wurcant he spoke in a deep gravelly voice, “everything ok here?”

“Spencer, this is Odo. Odo, Spencer the barkeep of Wanderer’s Pub.” Wurcant made the introduction.

Odo drew a dagger and placed the tip of the blade upon the bar. He twirled it menacingly and glared at Spencer from beneath his hood. “So, Wurcant has been trying to ask you about some rumors…”

“Is he?” Spencer interrupted. “Because he was also asking how I was doing and how my family is and how business is going. Would you like to hear?”

“No.” Odo stopped twirling his dagger and pointed it at Spencer with a threatening gesture. “We need to know about some rumors…”

“I beseech the spirits of the wild to guide you!” The red-bearded man sprang from his chair, placed a hand upon the shoulder of the halfling rogue, and chanted loudly enough for his voice to carry through the bar. Everyone in the tavern went silent for a moment before turning back to their conversations. The druid returned to his seat, but continued to watch Spencer, Odo, and Wurcant.

“We need to know about some rumors, and you are going to tell us, or else.” Odo continued, seemingly oblivious to the break in the atmosphere.

“So, Persuasion isn’t working so now you’re trying to Intimidate me?” Spencer frowned.

Odo slammed his dagger into the table angrily. “You are going to tell us what you’ve heard about…”

“No! You are trying to Intimidate me and your friend cast Guidance on you to help.” Spencer resumed filling mugs and dispensing ale around the bar to waiting customers. “Now, unless you want a drink, please leave me alone.”

Odo and Wurcant shared a glance before reluctantly leaving the bar. A moment later the female elf sauntered up and took a seat. She lazily sipped her ale but took every opportunity to smile and make eye contact with Spencer. Whenever Spencer turned from her to attend to other customers, he always found her staring back at him with fluttering blue eyes.

“What?” Spencer eventually could not ignore her any longer.

“My name is Thalia, and…”

“I beseech the spirits of the wild to guide you!” A booming voice once again arose from the husky man who was sprang from his seat next to Wurcant and Odo, placed a hand on Thalia’s shoulder, and infused her with the power of Guidance.

“I couldn’t help but notice a strapping, young, attractive barkeep working his cute little butt off.” Thalia leaned over the bar towards Spencer.

“So now you’re just resorting to outright Deception?” Spencer’s shoulders slumped.

“What, no…” Thalia’s smile brightened, and she reached out to rub Spencer’s hand.

“Do I look like I’m ‘strapping’?” Spencer withdrew from Thalia’s attention and stood with his palms up as if to put himself on display. He was, by all accounts, in poor shape.

“Um…” Thalia stammered, though she maintained her inviting demeanor.

“Am I a ‘young’ man?” Spencer pointed to his face, which bore the numerous deep wrinkles that only age could bring.

“By elven standards…”

“Thalia,” Spencer interrupted and stood back from the bar to provide as much view of himself as possible. “Am I an ‘attractive’ man?”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Thalia poured her full attention into Spencer.

“You are trying to be Deceptive, and your druid friend called upon nature to assist in that deception.” Spencer replied in an even tone devoid of anger or sadness. “I know I’m old, out of shape, and nowhere near attractive enough to grab the attention of a young adventuring elf. I don’t need you lying to me about it to make me feel worse. That’s just… it’s mean. You’re mean.”

Thalia’s smile broke for a moment before it returned. “You’re just so friendly. I’d love to hear about whatever rumors…”

Spencer sighed. “I am not friendly! The only reason anyone thinks I’m friendly is because they’re always coming up to me asking me about rumors.” His tone took on a mocking imitation of a whiny adventurer. “Have you heard anything about this treasure? Have you heard anything about these bandits?” Spencer’s voice returned to normal. “I’m actually an introvert. If I could live my entire life without an adventurer pumping me for information every ten minutes, I’d be a happy man.”

“About that.” Thalia’s fading expression brightened yet again. “There’ve been these rumors…”

“Stop!” Spencer shouted, though not loud enough to draw any attention. “Leave me alone. Go open your own tavern and hear your own rumors. I am a person!”

Defeated, Thalia stood and retreated to the table with her comrades. Spencer returned to tending the bar.

A long moment of peace passed before the druid approached. He stood at the end of the bar, in the same place his comrades had previously. Shaking his head, Spencer walked over. “What can I get you?”

“My name is Drazenko.” Said the man as he stared back at Spencer, his eyes clouded with the delirium of alcohol.

“What do you want, Drazenko?” Spencer placed an empty mug on the bar. “We have ale, and… I guess we also have some bar food, but mostly ale. Should I get you an ale?”

“I beseech the spirits of the wild to guide me!” shouted Drazenko as he placed a hand on his own chest. A shimmering light infused him.

“Come on…”

“What do you call a goblin with a sprained ankle?” Spittle flew out of Drazenko’s mouth as he spoke, and he swayed uneasily. “A hobblin’ gobblin!”

“Did you just call on nature to guide a joke?” Spencer asked.

“I called on nature to assist me in Performing the joke!” Drazinko smiled proudly.

“Why?”

“To create a rapport with you. Did it work?” Drazenko’s mouth remained open a bit as if he had more to say, but his drunkenness had smothered the words before they escaped his lips.

“It did not work.” Spencer filled the mug before him with ale and placed it on the counter. “I appreciate the effort, though. At least you aren’t pretending to give a crap about my family, trying to scare me, or lying to my face.”

Drazenko’s brow furrowed before he half-fell, half-sat on a barstool. He drained his new ale in one drink and rested his elbows on the bar. He smacked at his head with his palms and blinked away his inebriation. “This is just so hard, you know, being adventurers… we don’t know anyone in town, so we do what every adventurer does and talk to the local barkeep. That’s you.”

“Yes, I know.” Spencer shot back with irritation. “But I’m not just some obstacle to overcome or an adventure prompt to point you in the direction of a chest of gold. I’m a person. Your friend Wurcant doesn’t have any interest in my life beyond how it helps him to get information out of me.”

“That’s true.” Drazenko nodded. “No one cares about you or your family.”

“Odo is threatening me with his dagger. Why should I help him?” Spencer continued. “I’m not gonna help someone who’s acting like they want to hurt me.”

“It isn’t an act, but we’d stop him from actually hurting you… if we knew about it.”

“Exactly!” Spencer continued airing his grievances. “And then Thalia comes along and showers me with all these compliments which are obvious attempts to flatter me before pumping me for information.”

“She should have used an illusion to make herself appear more disgusting so you would believe you had a chance with her.”

Spencer’s voice raised as his anger grew. “You gave them all Guidance to help with their efforts to manipulate me!”

Drazenko rested his cheeks on his fists. His bushy red beard splayed outward and over the bar, and he sat for a long time before saying anything. “You’re right.”

“Do you understand why I’m angry?” Spencer asked.

“Not really.” Drazenko admitted.

“You wouldn’t feel insulted by strangers constantly coming up to you trying to manipulate, intimidate, and deceive you? Wouldn’t you feel extra bad if someone used the power of a god to help do that to you?”

“I use the power of nature.” Drazenko clarified.

A long stretch of silence passed between Spencer and Drazenko until Drazenko finally spoke. “I am sorry. We should not have treated you this way.”

“Thank you.” Spencer sighed. “You’re the first person to apologize to me. Ever.”

Another moment of stillness passed between them. Drazinko’s eyes looked glassy, as if he were about to cry.

“What do you want to know about?” Spencer sighed.

Drazenko gaped for a moment before speaking. “Really? After the way we treated you, you’ll still talk to us?”

“Sure.” Spencer shrugged. “I’m a barkeep in an adventurer’s town. What good am I if I don’t have a bit of info about the goings on?”

“You’d be completely useless.” Drazenko nodded.

“So, what’s the rumor you want me to know about?”

“There’s a rumor that the orc raiding party that’s been pillaging up and down Broken River is employed by a wizard. Has anyone mentioned anything about a wizard or what the orcs are doing?” Suddenly, Drazenko’s voice took on a commanding tone and he placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “I beseech the spirits of the wild to guide you!”

“Oh, so now you’re guiding me?” Spencer shook his head with disappointment.

“What lore do you have on this subject? … or maybe Arcana…” Drazenko’s previously lethargic nature was replaced by a frantic sort of focus. “A little Guidance can’t hurt.”

Spender shrugged. “A wizard, you say? I don’t remember anyone saying anything about a wizard.”

Drazenko slumped in his stool. His energy vanished, and he was now the familiar drunken lout who had told a bad joke a few minutes ago. “This is impossible.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t recall information I don’t have.” Spencer filled Drazenko’s mug again. “I’m just a barkeep. Not everyone tells me everything, and maybe this wizard, if he exists, doesn’t advertise his existence.”

“Clever wizards…” Drazenko grumbled.

“Why don’t you just assume there is a wizard?” Spencer suggested. “Go fight the orcs, and if you over-prepare, so what? Maybe I’ll hear something in the meantime about a wizard.”

Drazenko stood and nodded. “Ok, we will assume there is a wizard, and when we come back, you will have more information.”

“Not necessarily, I was just…”

“Thank you, humble barkeep. You are a true friend to me and my party.” Drazenko reached across the bar to wrap Spencer in a hug.

“You don’t even know my name…”

“We shall return, barkeep. I promise you we will not forget your kindness.” Drazenko patted Spencer hard on the back before releasing him.

Spencer came away from the hug feeling every eye within the bar upon him. Embarrassed, he returned to pouring drinks and trying to make himself as unapproachable as possible. Moments later, Drazenko, Thalia, Odo, and Wurcant stood and tossed a bag of coins upon the bar. In the next instant, they vanished out the tavern door.

Spencer watched them leave, uncertain if he had provided good advice. Content that he had at least done no harm, he busied himself with his work. For a reasonable stretch of time, Spencer was able to indulge in his true calling. He served one customer after another, pleasantly musing about his next brewing recipe.

Suddenly, a pleasant sound of a strumming lute grabbed his attention. Spencer searched for the source of music, until his gaze settled upon a colorfully dressed elf wearing a feathered cap and meandering through the crowded tavern. After a moment, he took a seat at the end of the bar,  but he managed to continue his performance.

“What can I get you?” Spencer forced a smile as he approached the elf.

“Four mugs of ale,” Replied the elf, strumming his instrument.

“Sure.” Spencer began filling mugs. “You’re just gonna keep playing this whole time?”

“I am named Kendel, and I have traveled far.” The elf half seemed to speak and sing at the same time. My companions and I have come to your fine establishment in search of information.”

“Oh no.” Spencer hung his head.

Suddenly the elf sprang from his stool, placed his hand upon his chest, and announced in a powerful voice. “I beseech the spirits of music to guide me!”