The wandering bard

It starts in a tavern called The Fractured Anchor. The tavern sits on a half-stable floating shard in the lower edge of the Aetherfall Isles, tethered to three chains that creak whenever a magic storm passes too close. The Islands sways slightly, not from wind—but from reality itself shifting underneath it. Inside, the air is warm. Familiar. Almost safe. Almost. Scene Setup People are trying to act normal. A group of sky traders argue over route losses in Emberreach. A mercenary from the Ashen Pact cleans ash-blackened armor in the corner. A Dominion courier keeps a hand on a sealed magitech case that quietly ticks like a heartbeat. A hooded figure from the Arcanum Order watches everyone but never drinks. And above it all, a bard is performing. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Carefully. You are a novice bard who justed walked in to the tavern