The Bell and Boar rang with voices. The tavern was crammed to the rafters with aspiring insurrectionists all pretending to be here after a good time. The good time that Robin, in his stage persona as Marq, had been loudly promising to the town for days.

He really needed to introduce flyers to this world. Or find a manager. Building fame from scratch was hard.

Lantha and the rest of the Sisters Sharp were circulating quietly through the crowd, along with Avanus, speaking to the leaders of the various factions. Prorna, a statuesque goatkin, represented the remnants of the former power structure in the city. Guilera, a slim woman who appeared to have dark-elven heritage, represented the dissatisfied local merchants. Also in attendance were Cor’Leon, the leader of the strongest of the local organised crime elements, Sulara, a slim young woman who more or less spoke for the local rebellious youth and street kids, and Brawnhilde, a stout dwarf who represented the local militia and those elements of the town watch that were dissatisfied with Basgar’s expansionist agenda. Those were the names Robin managed to remember, at least.

Though Bordertown was not a mighty city by any stretch of the imagination, it was a very large town with thousands of inhabitants. Being at the centre of the sole trade route connecting three countries would do that. It would probably be a city were it not for the mountainous location constraining growth.

Robin’s job this evening was simple. He needed to keep everyone entertained and distracted. The former was to keep up the fiction, should any innocent townsfolk or suspicious guards wander into the tavern. The latter was to make sure none of the fractious and suspicious elements present had enough focus to start a fight or to pay too much attention to what Lantha and the Sisters Sharp were doing in addition to sounding everyone out.

This was it. This was the point of no return. After tonight, they would be well and truly committed to this plan. The Sisters Sharp would be known to too many people, their faces too obvious.

It was a solid plan, though. At least Robin thought the parts he had contributed were solid. And he assumed Lantha’s were. The woman practically screamed competence.

They just needed to be a bit careful. Multiple factors were in play, complicating things. Fortunately, there was a solution to that. It just meant their plan had stages and was a bit more complicated than it might be otherwise.

There was an agent provocateur in play here, so the first thing they needed to do was set a little trap. Nothing substantial would get done so long as someone was spying on these people and playing them against one another. Lantha had something in mind, but she was playing her cards close to the vest. She didn’t want anyone’s loose lips sinking this chance.

Robin and Grathilde were apparently the ones she was most concerned about. They were also the ones loudest in their protest that such assessments were damaging, hurtful, and untrue.

It didn’t matter. Lantha had her plan and they all had parts to play. Robin knew his, and so here he was, on stage, playing it for all he was worth.

Never mind that it galled just a bit to be providing background music rather than commanding the spotlight. Well, it galled Marq. Robin was a lot more philosophical about things. Robin wondered if this new flair for acting was something that came with being a bard, something that was a part of his new heritage as a shapeshifter, or a combination of both.

Probably both. Both is good.

Robin’s eyes wandered across the crowd. First, he counted. There were definitely enough people here to make an attempt at completing his bardic initiation quest. That would have to wait until he could really let loose later, though.

His gaze tracked the crowd again as his fingers pretended to wander across his lute. He wasn’t really playing. He was using [Lesser Phantasm] to fill the air with music. At this point, it was any harder on the hands than extending lute-playing would be anyway, and would result in far fewer calluses. Robin used what attention he had to spare to study the interactions between the various individuals present.

Brawnhilde was arguing with Prorna about something. Lantha was whispering furiously in Grathilde’s ear. Either the dwarf had done something wrong or was about to be thrown into the argument in an attempt to defuse it.

Avanus was talking to Guilera, and judging by the sour look on Cor’Leon’s face, the crime lordling wasn’t too happy about it for some reason. Though why Cor’Leon should be so annoyed when he had a beautiful woman hanging on his arm and every word—wait, that was Lena!

What was she doing here? She was supposed to be travelling. Not here. Not in a position to usurp the stage and undercut his performance! This could endanger his quest!

Of course, nothing worth doing was ever easy, was it? Still, if Robin didn’t know better, he’d suspect deliberate sabotage.

Robin began to perform with a bit more skill. He shouldn’t. It might draw too much attention away from the subtle work Lantha was doing, but he couldn’t help himself. There was an artistic rival in the room!

He ignored the inquisitive glance Lantha shot his way. She and the others could adapt. It was just a little more flourish. He was warming up the audience! Nothing wrong with that, right?

Lena ignored him. He had to assume it was on purpose. How incredibly irritating! Just because she was stunning and talented and sang like a West End star, it didn’t mean she could pretend he wasn’t doing damn good work up here!

Marq was not just some background act!

So what if the skill he played with was not his own? So what if it was an illusion? Perception was nine-tenths of reality anyway. More, even, once he mastered ‘The Mirror’s Revenge’!

Robin added a bit more flash and a lot more bang to the next song. This time he actively detracted from what Lantha was doing and the rogue shot him a glare. He didn’t care, though; the applause he got at the end of the number was worth it.

Unfortunately, applause wasn’t all his little bit of stunting conjured up. A member of the watch stood in the door, surveying the gathering with suspicious eyes. She’d been drawn in by Robin’s playing, but it was clear now that she’d found something else to be interested in.

Robin was perfectly positioned to see the woman’s eyes widen at the sight of Cor’Leon. That wasn’t good. She looked like she was about to charge over and interrogate him on the spot.

They couldn’t have that. Fortunately, Robin had a new ability that should solve this problem nicely. Well, reroute the problem, at least.

What this place needed was a bit of classic UK punk rock, even if the song he had in mind was technically a cover. Robin ran over what he needed to do in his head, and as soon as he finished his current song, he quickly twisted through the passes of [Lesser Phantasm] to conjure himself some drums, electric guitar, bass, and backing vocals.

His clothing was already black leather.

The drums hit and rolled out through the tavern, a pulse-pounding percussive riff that cut conversation short and refocused attention towards the stage. Robin followed up with the guitar and vocals.

🎶Breakin’ rocks in the hot sun🎶

Eyes across the tavern focused on him, including those of the woman in the watch uniform at the door. That’s right. Eyes on me. Robin reached out and channelled the music of the universe through his performance, aiming to [Command Attention] from the watchperson.

It worked. She zeroed in on him and drifted toward the stage, almost entranced bu his performance. Robin amped the volume and howled into the chorus.

🎶I fought the law🎶and the law won🎶

Maybe not the best choice of lyrics from a symbolic standpoint, but hey, he was thinking on his feet here! At least the words were English. He doubted many people would be able to understand, and only then if they had the requisite magics. In any case, it definitely took the watchperson’s attention away from Cor’Leon.

Now that he had it, however, he wasn’t sure what to do with it. And it wouldn’t last forever. Robin thought fast as he pounded out the final measures of the song.

🎶I fought the law🎶and the law won🎶I fought the law🎶and the law won🎶

He hit the final chord with a flourish and immediately began talking. He had commanded attention from the crowd, and now that he had it, he had no intention of surrendering it.

‘One of Bordertown’s finest is amongst us, my friends! Let’s give her a hand!’ Robin put a hint of steel into that final sentence and his manic smile communicated clear as day that he expected applause. And now.

And he got it. Stuttering and uncertain, but it was there. He could work with that. In fact, maybe he could get another potential complication out of the way at the same time.

‘Lena! Get this fine upstanding member of the watch a drink, would you? Show her the quality of the patrons of the Bell and Boar!’ Robin’s charisma reeled the other bard out of the crowd and away from Cor’Leon, who had sensibly made himself inconspicuous.

The other bard, not one to ever shy away from a spotlight, smiled and stepped forward to take the watchperson in arm.

‘I would be delighted, Marq! And don’t worry, I promise this won’t get in the way of our duet! I did promise you, and I am nothing if not a woman of my word!’

Robin forced himself to smile and not wince at her words. So much for that idea. He’d hoped she would busy herself with keeping the woman away from what was happening in the tavern, but clearly Lena cared more about adulation than the good of the town.

He spotted Fiamah making her way through the crowd to intercept the other two women. Good. At least he could count on the cleric to handle things properly.

Robin fell back into a more subdued mode of performance. He needed to give Lantha some more time and space to work. Soon enough, Lena would extract herself from the conversation with Fiamah and the watchperson, and claim a spot on stage. When she did that, it would get much harder to have subtle conversation.

He had his victory, but it was not without its price. He’d successfully diverted the attention of the watch, but at the cost of completing his bardic initiation quest.

Robin forced a smile onto his face as he faced the prospect of handling the crowd with Lena sharing his stage. It would be good exposure, good for his reputation, but there was no way he was going to be able to complete his quest. That required a performance that was incontrovertibly his own.

He looked out over the crowd at Lena, laughing as if this were all completely normal.

Someone was going to pay for this.

With interest.