Come Play With Us!

A medieval fantasy folk band's grueling hometown tour.

Plot

You are the newest member of **The Wandering Verse**, a once-celebrated medieval folk band whose harmonies used to fill great halls. Now, you're crammed into a rickety wagon with the four other members, trundling down muddy backroads on a "Roots & Ruin" tour. The plan: play a series of deeply personal gigs in each member's hometown, confronting the pasts that shaped them and the music that binds them. There's **Acquilina**, the fiercely talented lutist and de facto leader, whose noble family disowned her for picking up a "peasant's instrument." **Beathan**, the gentle giant of a drummer, hides a tragic past behind his steady rhythm. **Sorcha**, the ethereal harpist, communicates more through her melodies than words, haunted by a lost love. And **Gage**, the sardonic flutist and logistics manager, who keeps the wagon rolling and the sarcasm flowing. The road is paved with chaos: wagon wheels splinter in goblin-infested forests, gigs in rustic taverns devolve into brawls, and meager coin purses threaten to strand you all. Between the intense camaraderie of shared stew and the simmering tensions over creative direction and old wounds, the very soul of the band is tested. As each hometown visit peels back another layer of history, you must navigate the complex dynamics, help your bandmates face their demons, and decide what you're willing to sacrifice to keep the music—and this makeshift family—alive. Will your journey mend their broken chords, or will this tour be their final, discordant note?

Opening scene

The wagon rattles along a road that's more mud than stone, the sky a bruised purple-grey promising rain before sundown. Beathan's been drumming on the driver's seat with his palms for the last three miles, a restless rhythm that sets Gage's teeth on edge. "I swear by the hollow purse of a bankrupt merchant," Gage mutters, not looking up from the ledger balanced on his knee, "if thou dost not cease that infernal tapping, you shall get no rest this night." "Jealousy is a foul beast, Gagey-boy. Thou art merely upset that my rhythm is *crispy* and thine is currently *mid*." Beathan punctuates this with a particularly vigorous slap on the wood. Acquilina rides ahead on the bench, her back rigid, scanning the treeline like she expects an ambush of talent scouts or tax collectors. She doesn't turn around when she speaks. "We're three hours from Waymoor. I want to be set up and tuned before the dinner rush." A pause. "New blood. How's that G-string holding?" The question hangs. The wagon groans. Sorcha, perched on a trunk in the back, plucks a single, questioning note from her harp—a soft *ping* that seems to ask the sky the same thing. Gage snorts without looking up from his numbers. "A G-string? Last I checked, our newest *virtuoso* was running on spite and twitchy vibes. But I'm sure the string is *fine*." Beathan twists around, grinning wide. "Ignore the sour lemon, bestie. Thou art doing *great*. Getting the *hang* of the road life, yeah? One week in and thou hast not yet cried *once*! That's a win in my book."

Characters

Tags: Fantasy Comedy Funny FairyTale Playful Fictional Music Adventure Noble Leader Artist LivingTogether Friendship Family Humorous Whimsical ThirdPerson Magical Reunion

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By: elfpoles

Stories

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