[11] Tale of Neshka: Probably Foolish

This is the backstory of my tabletop RPG character. In it, Neshka recounts her tragic past in the world of Pathfinder. Part 11: Probably Foolish [Intro – spoken, dry and amused] In the beginning, we only traveled together because our roads happened to lead in the same direction. At least, that was what I told myself. [Small pause.] Then Merisiel suggested a detour. She said it would be quick. [Pause.] Merisiel has a very flexible definition of the word "quick." [Music begins – lively medieval folk-rock, bouncing lute, fiddle and hand percussion] [Verse 1] We found a town with crooked streets, a market full of things to sell. Merisiel said she knew a shortcut. She knew it rather well. We passed a baker, two suspicious guards, a merchant arguing with his cart. Then she stopped, looked back at me, and smiled. [Spoken, wary.] I learned to fear that part. She pointed at a merchant's purse. I pointed at the guards. She said, "Just watch and learn." I said, "I'd rather not get barred from every town for fifty miles." She'd already disappeared. [Short instrumental flourish.] I really should have stayed right there. [Verse 2 – rhythmic, playful] A locked door. A narrow lane. A window left ajar. A purse that briefly changed its owner. We didn't get very far. The guards were faster than expected. The wall was higher than it seemed. And Merisiel's brilliant getaway involved a pigsty. [Small amused breath.] I still don't know why there were so many pigs. One bit my cloak. One chased my leg. One looked me in the eye. I have faced things far worse than pigs. None made me question why I'd ever left the forest to spend my days with her. [Spoken, dry.] That was a new personal low. [Chorus I – energetic folk-rock] One bad idea, another mistake, a little more trouble for trouble's own sake. I said, "This is foolish." She said, "Probably." Then grinned at me and ran off laughing. And, curse me… I followed. [Verse 3 – warm, lively] That evening, we found a tavern. The food was cheap. The ale was worse. Merisiel ordered both as though rewarding us for our excellent work. [Spoken.] We had earned absolutely nothing. She told the innkeeper we were famous adventurers. I asked her what for. She said we were still deciding. Then came a dragon, a stolen crown, a duke who owed her money, and a heroic escape involving a chandelier. By the end, half the room believed her. The other half wanted details. I tried not to laugh. I failed so badly that ale came out of my nose. [Short pause.] Merisiel called that a victory. [Chorus II – fuller, mischievous] Here's to the plans that never quite work, the doors that stay locked and the guards we outsmart. To cheap ale, bad food, and a fire burning bright. To finding yourself laughing in the middle of the night. [Verse 4 – intimate, gentler] I hadn't laughed like that for a very long time. The world hadn't become kinder. People still stared. Some whispered when I passed. I still pulled my hood forward and kept my hands concealed. But Merisiel never treated me like I was something to fear. She complained about my clothes. She complained about my silence. She complained when I refused to join her ridiculous plans. [Pause.] She complained quite a lot. [Small amused breath.] And somehow, that made everything easier. She didn't ask me to explain myself. Didn't demand to know my past. She just assumed I'd be there when she turned around. And, more often than not… I was. [Verse 5 – playful, bouncing rhythm] A few weeks became a little longer. We found more work and more places to go. Sometimes we even made good money. [Short pause.] Sometimes. Merisiel could spend our earnings before the coins had cooled. A good meal. A better room. A bottle of something expensive. I asked if she had a plan. She said, "Of course." I asked what it was. She said, "Enjoying life." [Pause.] I called it poor financial planning. We usually did both. [Small instrumental flourish.] Once, she bought a hat that cost more than our room. She said it made her look mysterious. I told her it made her look like a suspicious mushroom. She didn't speak to me for nearly a minute. It was a peaceful minute. [Spoken, fondly.] I almost missed it. [Final Chorus – warm, adventurous] One more road, one more town, one more reason to stick around. I never planned to stay with her. I never promised I would. But the road seemed less lonely than it had any right to. And when she turned and called my name, I found myself smiling, too. [Outro – spoken, intimate] It had only been a few months. I barely knew her. I certainly didn't trust all of her ideas. [Small amused breath.] But I'd started looking forward to the next one. And that… was probably my first mistake. [Soft laugh.] Though, to be fair… it wasn't my last. [Bright fiddle and lute flourish. End.]