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Men with a Mission: The hard life
 
 
By: Wouter van de Zandschulp

Jonathan the bard was on his own. And this was the way he liked it. No one was slowing him down or telling him what to do, or, more important, what not to do. Because the last was something he particular could not stand. After he and his mentor had decided to go on in different ways for a while, he decided this life-style suited him best.
Finally he had escaped the fear of what people would think of him, just by keeping them at a distance. No more hurt feelings, just inner peace and doing everything his own way.
He liked it. He liked clumsily putting the fire on all wrong and burning himself, because he found that he himself was the only one to blame and was the only one that suffered from it, so there was no problem. Others who only did see such a thing always made Jonathan feel that they were judging him or were disadvantaged by his actions. Now he did not care about it at all, since he himself was the only one to even notice.
Yes, adventure was everywhere and he could face it all his very own way, with the whole world ahead of him.

The SECOND day after he and his mentor split up, Jonathan came walking into a village. The people here saw a unwashed, unshaved man with clothes which were very wrinkled and stained, who walked very tired, in a way which implicated he suffered from various diseases and hadn't eaten in a week.
"Who are you?" a man by the road asked.
"I am..."
These words where a bit too much for him and Jonathan fell down. He woke up a bit later by the sun that was shining on his face. He saw the man that spoke to him on the street, sitting on a chair next to him.
"Ah... a bed... and some food!"
Jonathan saw some food net to him.
"You are very kind to me."
"No problem" the man said. He was busy molesting a piece of wood with his knife.
"No really... thanks... just what I needed..." Jonathan said.
He ate some and watched his room closer. He also took a look out of the window, by holding some conveniently placed out-of-the-window-look-handle-thingies. Outside a beautiful city was to be seen into the sun.
Suddenly, while watching the people moving around, Jonathan lost his grip in a clumsy and spontaneous way which only could have happened to him, and he fell down. He looked at the handles he was holding, and while his head banged the floor he suddenly got an idea in his head.
"IS THIS A PRISON?" he shouted.
"Yep" the man on the chair said, without looking up.
Jonathan got himself together.
"Why am I in this prison?"
"You are a tramp, aren't you?"
"No, I am a bard."
"And what's the difference?"
"YOU CAN'T LOCK ME UP! I AM A PERFORMER! I worked with the guy that... well... the one with the beard."
"Gandalf?"

"Nononono, the old man. A traveling bard with a beard."
"Ah. He did a very BAD impersonation of me riding a goat."
"You too?" Jonathan said. "Err... I meant... ah...."
He had nothing to bring up anymore and sadly got quiet. Suddenly a big bang was heard outside.
"IT'S THAT STUPID GNOME AGAIN!" the man shouted and he sprang up from his chair. Moments later he came back in, holding a very small person that was trying to get loose very hard.
"LET ME GO! I WAS JUST... JUST TRYING TO..."
The man threw the gnome in the cell and quickly pulled Jonathan out.
"I can't let you get in this cell with that crazed pyromaniac gnome. But you must get a job or you'll get back there again. I know a place where they need someone that can perform. I trust you CAN perform a bit?"
He gave Jonathan the location and sent him out.
"I'll just set fire on this cell too!" the gnome shouted.
"Quiet Fombel!" the man replied angrily.

Jonathan arrived at a factory that distributed goat milk. He had followed the instructions because he did not quite manage getting enough money to keep himself alive yet with performings and he did not wanted to end up in jail again. So he bought out and his career in advertising began...

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