Kasidy looked around the place where the battle had just taken place. She had helped Arn settle in the horses, but then she didn’t know what to do. Arn had sent the zombies away and was now looting the bandits.

She shuddered a bit. He might claim not to be a necromancer, but he still didn’t seem to have any problems looting the corpses. He might even raise them if he thought he needed to. She shook her head and looked up at the sky. The was still above the horizon, but it would set kind of soon.

She sighed. “I can at least get things ready for a meal even if I will burn it.”

Kasidy ambled down the stairs into the underground room. “I can’t believe that he made all of this for a campsite. The man even put in a well for water and a place for waste.”

She wandered down the hall to the second exit and then back. There were two ledges carved into the wall to create a place for a bed. There were even magical lights to make the room almost as bright as day. Near one edge was a magical fireplace that gave off the perfect amount of heat.

Kasidy took a moment to look around but couldn’t find Arn’s bag. So She sat down near the fire and pulled out her songbook. She still couldn’t believe that she was writing this man’s story in a songbook. It should be filled with the music that she knew, not stories. But it was what she had, so it was what she was using.

She flipped through some pages, reading what she had written. This man was odd. It was clear as day to her that there was something epic going on. The only question was what it was. Bartholomew wouldn’t have sent her if it wasn’t important.

As she read across the pages, she smiled a bit. “He keeps trying to hide it, but he keeps shouting out this same thing. ‘Oh great and mighty greeter Sam, I the lowly Arn beseech you to answer my question.’” She paused for a moment and asked herself. “Who is Arn and why is he lowly?”

Then she flipped through to a blank page and started to write about the battle they just had.

Over a hundred knights thundered down the High road. They were on one of their hunting trips seeking bards to kill and merriment to end. As they rashly charged down the road, they saw two weary travelers.

One of the demons that guided the hundred spoke truly, “One of them is a Bard the other one has merriment.”

So the hundred circled around the two. As they did, Arn, the Chosen of Bartholomew, the Lord of the dungeons, Master of the trees, and friend of the hunted, stepped forward. He caused the knights of Spur to pause in their endeavors.

Then in a clear and mighty voice, he asked. “You who have sworn to protect your city so far off. Why are you here? Do you ride for war?”

The dark leader, a noble by money, urged his mount forward. “We have come to scour the land of the filth of Bards. To cut the heart from joy and crush under our mounts.”

Then the great Champion asked. “What wrongs have the bards done that you would hunt them in lands not your own?”

The evil demon spoke. “They give hope to those who shouldn’t have any and joy to those we take it from. They stand opposed to those who know better than everyone else.”

The Master of the dungeons laughed and nodded. This made the whole army mad, and they started to circle the two travelers. Then with deceit in their hearts, they quietly drew their weapons.

Arn smiled and opened his arms, and in an unmistakable voice, he asked. “And what would you do if there was a bard here.”

The leader of the evil knights cackled and pointed at the quiet bard. “That one we know is a bard. She is known by all. She is the fairest of all bards with a voice that tames the wildest of beasts. She will be ours for the night and then we will drag her to the city. If she lives through the trip then her fingers will be removed and her tongue cut out. Then she will be sold to whoever or whatever wants her.”

The smile on the face of the Champion fell off. His countenance turned grim as his anger boiled. The things they said they would do were beyond what he could accept. Even if this bard so fair wasn’t his friend. Yet because she was his friend and more, his anger stirred like never before.

He pointed to the sky and proclaimed. “Those who would take slaves or rape they are abhorrent to my god! You who would do so and boast about it will surely die this day!”

He lowered his hand, and wyverns fell from high in the sky. Those he beat with his hands and turned into his friends. Flame, ice, and acid rained down around the Champion and his Bard.

By the will of the Champion, none touched them. Then when they thought that the battle was almost over with the hundred dead before them. The demon rose from the ground turning into a 10-foot-tall twenty-foot tall beast. Its horns dripped blood, and from its mouth, fire shot.

Then from behind, the demon so evil the faithful companion of Arn, Blink, jumped forth. A graceful ropola over forty feet in length. Her teeth caught the demon by the leg and rent it off in a single pull. Then she turned her head up and ate it whole to keep the demon from putting it back on.

The battle was fierce between the one-legged demon of misery, and the protector of simple joy, Blink the murderous. Around and around they went, claws and teeth flashing. Soon the demon looked like it had the upper hand as it spewed forth fire and hate. But Blink being true to her heart of joy, let out a laugh through her lizard throat and transformed.

No longer was Blink a massive ropola but now a small kobold with two crossbows. She skipped on top of the fire and shot both bows through the eyes of the demon. Blink started to sing as she went, and the flowers around them bloomed. The demon brought forth by the professors of Spur swatted at the girl, trying to flatten her.

Then Blink ran up its one good leg and shoved a spear into its mouth. The beast roared and flailed as it fell back. Then it grabbed the cute kobold and threw her miles away.

The Champion of Bartholomew, the god of Bards and Summer beer, stopped the laughing that he had been doing while watching the fight. His anger was great that the demon would harm his friend.

He turned to the bard so fair and handed her his tankard, speaking softly to hold his wrath in. “Hold my beer.”

Then he drew from the ground vines to bind the demon and called forth a great sphere of stone to crush it. As it struggled to move. The Champion strolled forward as he picked up his staff, and slammed it into the ground. A dome appeared around him and the demon.

The world could hear the screams from inside, but none could see what the Lord of the dungeons did. Too great was his anger and wrath for the bard so fair to see. Too horrid the task. Yet when the dome came down, all that remained of the demon was a horn.

Thus ended the demon of Spur and the hundred dread knights who hunted all joy.

Kasidy smiled to herself when what she wrote. It wasn’t the best story, but as a rough draft of the epic she would tell of Arn, it wasn’t bad. It would have been better with more fighting, and perhaps Arn kissing the Bard but not audiences would enjoy that. She knew that her home city wouldn’t, as they hunted bards. The college ruled that city with an iron fist. But it wasn’t bad as long as you didn’t draw too much attention.

Kasidy looked around and noticed that there was a plate of food beside her and both Arn and Blink were already asleep. She quickly ate and then tried to go to sleep herself. Her mind went over everything that she knew about Arn. About what they would do when they got to a town. Then slowly, hours later, she fell asleep herself.

That night she dreamed.

Kasidy looked around and found herself standing in the most beautiful study she had ever seen. There were bookshelves that reached up at least fourteen feet stuffed with books and scrolls. The front edges of the shelves were covered with random baubles.

Dominating the room, however, was a massive desk with an older-looking man. He had the most amazing handlebar mustache and an impressive hat with a huge white feather in it. On his face was the most amused smile that Kasidy had seen outside the time she talked with her god.

The man asked. “And how did you get in here young lady?”

Kasidy opened her mouth to answer about three times before she said. “I don’t know. Where am I?”

The man laughed and got up. “Would you like a drink?”

Kasidy smiled and walked over to where he was pouring. “Do you happen to have any summer beer?”

The man stopped for a moment and chuckled. Then he reached for the cabinet under the counter and pulled out a large growler. He poured a tankard and handed it over to Kasidy. Then he pointed to the chairs near the fire.

As he walked over, he said. “Please join me I think that you might have a fun story to tell me.”

Kasidy went over and sat down and said. “I’m Kasidy what’s your name?”

The man chuckled. “You should know my name you asked me a question. I’m Sam.”

Kasidy thought for a while and asked. “What question did I ask you?”

Sam took a drink of his beer. “You asked me who Arn is.”

She nodded and took a drink. Then she smiled and took another one. This was the best beer that she had ever had. Far better than the stuff she had ever served.

Sam smiled. “Let me tell you about a man who has been bugging me for a while. I called him Bozo but somehow his name turned into Arn. As to who he is that’s almost as good of a question as how you got here.”

* * *