Shalgarth, tall and handsome, strode into the fiddlery along the artisans walk in Morraw. There was nothing of subtlety to this man. He filled the doorway and announced his presence with a resounding, "I am Shalgarth, noble adventurer of Morraw, and I need a fiddler!"
Silence amongst the instruments. Then a harsh, whisper deep voice that belied the soft, youngish face of a dwarven lady. "I make fiddles, sir, you'll do best finding a fiddler in an inn." Though she said the words with a smile, Shalgarth couldn't help but believe this woman thought him a fool.
"I am no fool," he therefore said at a more reasonable volume, "You know all the greatest fiddlers in Morraw because they all get their fiddles from you. I need the greatest fiddler in all the land." But then he proclaimed again in an unnecessarily booming voice, "I HAVE A QUEST."
The dwarven lady sighed and asked, as if she'd said these words to a dozen fools before, "What is your quest?" She turned her back on him without waiting for the answer, and began delicately threading a bow with horsehair.
"I need the greatest fiddler in the land to play for the merchant Smarmly. He has a map to the great dragon of the west, and I have discovered this dragon's manna, fed to the World Tree, will fix the WORLD."
The dwarven lady glanced briefly over her shoulder, then, with practiced nonchalance said, "There's no such thing as dragons."
"I have it on very good auth-" Shalgarth could not finish his sentence before, without really knowing how, he had been ushered out the front door and left standing in the street. A chamberpot's contents, flung from the apartment above the shop hurried him on his way. Looking back, he just caught a glimpse of the dwarven lady locking her shop door in the middle of the day.
Oh, I'm excited to tell the rest.
picture source: one I took at comic-con