The Mercenary Guild, the Lounge.
The eight full members of Ashius's Dragon-Slaying Team watched the Bard before them... perform.
"Oh, my beloved girl, she gazes out from the cliff..."
Slender fingers swept across the Lute, and the Bard sang the final note.
The Lounge fell silent. Only a girl clutching a doll clapped, then drew back her hands when none of her companions joined in.
"Hmm..."
Gloria, the Female Warrior with a Battle Axe on her back, raised her right hand thoughtfully. As she clenched her fist, her muscles hardened like stone.
"I don't feel any stronger..."
"Of course you don't. She's just singing," the Ranger said coolly from where she leaned against the wall.
Gloria's eyes widened. "I just listened to that idiot sing for five minutes, and not one of you said anything!?"
"You looked so absorbed. We thought you liked it," the girl with the doll muttered.
"Was it bad? Don't you think having a Bard playing and singing nearby while you fight an Evil Dragon would lighten the mood?"
"We're fighting a fucking Evil Dragon! We don't need someone lulling us to sleep!"
"Then should I try something more rousing?"
"Sure..."
Gloria nearly agreed. Catching herself, she growled, "Since it sounded decent, I'll give you one more chance. Show us what you can really do!"
"Bards don't fight..." muttered the Bard holding the Lute.
"You don't know any support Spells?"
Skeeter, the Dragon-Slaying Team's vice-captain, asked from the Sofa.
Now the guild's vice-president broke into a cold sweat.
"Uh... let's move on to the next Mercenary."
The vice-president dragged the still-protesting Bard out.
"Typical guild. Dirty as ever," the Ranger remarked coolly.
Skeeter rubbed his brow. "What kind of people live in this city...?"
"People dreaming of getting rich without lifting a finger, corrupted by gold."