FSE

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There was a time where the biggest thing anyone had to worry about was the ravenous god buried deep inside of the planet. And even then, the good people of Golarion had much more pressing issues to deal with: revolution, alien influence, ancient evils awakening from beneath crumbling ruins, portals leading straight to the Abyss, and even the unexpected death of a god.

Yeah, those were the good old days-the days where people cared about exploring to find out more about history and about magic. They were the days when people had the free time to dedicate their lives to learning new things and things that were long forgotten. And, they were the days that people fought valiantly to preserve their lives and the lives of others.

Today is not so different, if one really thinks about it. Instead of exploring the death of one god, people investigate the disappearance of many. Instead of searching the past for clues to its splendor, they search in order to preserve their future, and instead of fighting a singular threat to the lives of the disenfranchised, everyone fights for their own preservation.

How ridiculous.

It's this hum-drum little world and all the bull that it brings that makes many people wanna just end it all. Of course, those that do rise again as the tormented souls of the undead, fueled by their sins and cursing the life they threw away so carelessly. There's no way out, and the place we're in isn't so good, anyway, so, instead of moping about, why not be actually happy about it?

That's what Arwen and I do as members of the Jester College. So, when this one artist was distraught about a missing masterpiece captured by gnolls, we didn't hesitate to volunteer our services while others sat back and considered it a waste of time for not enough coin.

Life's too short. Spend it doing what you love and with your friends. Out of the ones I've made over my years, I'm happy that today I'm with Arwen. She's been on this rock longer than me, but we see eye-to-eye most of the time. A good friend to have in these times of uncertainty, even if it is just to have someone put on a good light show while I strum out a few bars.

Our mission today has us heading to a gnoll den. These bastards used to just be in the deserts of Garund, but all bets are off after Mammy Lammy left them with no divine decree to enslave and breed--not that they need divine guidance to spam the world with more obnoxious pups. They show up everywhere and anywhere, thinking they own the place. That's good, because I love performing for a full house.

The only real issue here is that the artist decided to come with us. She has all the trappings of an old Shelynite priest, but with none of the firepower. Loads of folks decided to be lay followers of the missing gods, sacrificing the only real benefit of magical power for some kind of holier-than-thou prestige. Irony is not my favorite form of comedy. I don't even get it half the time. She's only helpful if someone wants her to paint something. Eh, whatever makes her happy, I guess. While annoying, it does make the job more exciting.

Our travels don't take too long, as these gnolls can't seem to keep themselves quiet. They just have to go around making a mess out of everything.

Arwen says we should get ready for the fight soon, and as she pours over her old spellbook, I can just feel the magical excitement coursing through her, giving me static shocks of anticipation as I tune up my lute. We're going to get that painting back, and we're going to give our artist friend a good time doing so.

We smell the gnolls before we see them, and I turn towards our client, shivering enough to make my bells jingle with anticipation. "Whooo! Either these gnolls already did our job for us, or they just REALLY know how to party!"

Our client takes her colorful collar and brings it up to her nose, shuddering at the stench that wells up from the wilderness beyond. "Eeegh! Just... I hope my artwork isn't sullied by this... repugnant odor."

Arwen giggles at that. "Don't you worry about that. You can just call it part of the experience. After all, art is all about sensuality. Scent is all-too-forgotten by you painter types." Raising her hand, she performs the precise motions for a protective spell. Around her motley, a translucent set of armor forms, keeping her encased in magical energy and ready to take on the full brunt of whatever gnoll assault we would be facing.

I hum a few bars, making sure my pipes are nice and loosened for the battle ahead, and then I strum on my strings--perfectly tuned, as always.

"What are you doing?" the artist hisses. "They'll hear you for sure."

Laughter rises up amid the foliage around us. The loud, hyena cackling is soon joined by Arwen and myself. The artist, who falls to her knees, covers her head and makes herself as small as possible. "See!? They found us, you madmen!"

"Sorry, love," Arwen says, her hands glowing with magical power. "But that outburst of yours is what gave us away. But that's okay. You paid for us to take these out. All you did was get the boring part out of the way. Jingles?"

I take her cue, readying myself for the moment I could see a spotted coat. "You know what they say about gnolls. They love to laugh, but they can't take a joke. Probably too much nuance for a language that's nothing but barks!" With that, I strum my lute, setting the tune for our battle.

Gnolls rush out before us, brandishing their scimitars and their flails. Their cackles echo throughout our little valley as Arwen and I jump and dodge and twirl about.

Keeping herself as non-threatening as possible, our patron remains close to the ground, screaming as a gnoll rushes past her to slash at me. I lean back and give a sick chord, casting a spell right into its face.

The gnoll blinks, shaking the illusory dust from its eyes. It turns and sees Arwen, with her back to it, throwing spells at one of its comrades. The gnoll snarls and slashes at her, only to hear the death howls of one of its own companions. A moment later, I stick a dagger deep into its back. "I'm sorry," I say, whispering into its ear. "Truly a crime to silence a laugh." With that, I twist the blade and then shove the bandit creature forward, letting it slump lifelessly to the ground.

I turn towards the others, tossing one past Arwen's face. It zips past her and strikes another gnoll, killing it swiftly. She bows to me, and then fires a spell off towards another one, setting it ablaze in spectacular fashion.