Dear readers, tonight we are sitting down in the darkest corner of a menagerie’s main tent. The man we’re speaking with is supposedly considered a world-class storyteller. His name is Gnochi Gleeman. We’re also accompanied by his young apprentice, a scribe named Boli, who is recording Gnochi’s answers, even though we record the interview. The boy is working off faint candlelight, and writes with sharp, neat scratches of his pen on the paper. Gnochi has made me promise to publish this interview a year and a day after we speak, so here we are.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I grew up in a small farmhouse about a half-day’s ride from [city name redacted] along the coast. I obviously can’t disclose too much more than that in order to protect the location of my family’s collection of old-world tomes and books. But it was a hardy, quiet upbringing. My folks didn’t get out to town too much beyond buying supplies, which means I didn’t see much of life outside our homestead until I had the first whiskers on my face.

Not that I’m complaining. There’s a very legitimate need for secrecy in our line of work. Constantly drilling and preparing, in case the luddites got wind of our stache, or the king’s men came knocking.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

Unfortunately, we did not have the luxury of recreation, even as children. I will say though, before you write my parents off completely as heartless monsters, that we did have a lifetime’s worth of books to keep us entertained. I have spent many moons of my life lost among the stacks, gently peeling back the covers on a book that has remained unopened, it’s story untold for thousands of years. The stories I can tell you…

What do you do now?

I can’t quite put “protector of forgotten knowledge” on my tax forms, so I am a bard by trade. An itinerant one. Which means during the warm seasons, it’s me and my horse shambling between any tavern or inn with a little warmth to spare, telling the stories of the past to people who can’t even fathom… Or at least, I was.

I’m actually trying (and failing) to be a retired bard. I’ve lived the better part of my life on the road, huddled up under tarps that barely keep the chill of rain out.

So… what brought you out of retirement?

My dear sister and niece were kidnapped. Unfortunately, I am being extorted by the bastards who took them, forced into a Herculean labor of near impossibility. But, what can I do? If I don’t comply, there’s no hope I’ll see my family again. And, before you ask, I cannot disclose what I need to do. If the wrong person were to see this interview, it could put my whole mission in jeopardy. Hell, even mentioning it to you may have sealed their fates. But, somehow, I doubt the people who kidnap others are cultured enough to be reading personality interviews. And, in a year, this will have wound its course.

But surely, you traveling with a menagerie is not the inconspicuous traveling you’d like for such a secret mission.

[Gnochi laughs]. I’m glad you think this is a menagerie. In my youth, I wouldn’t’ve been caught dead with these miscreant entertainers. I mean look at them. They’re a sorry lot. Their wagons are faded, tent is ripped. I can count on one hand the number of people among their numbers who could pull off a solo career in entertainment.

But, to the untrained eye, this is just a menagerie. A hardened lot of entertainers, maybe at the end of their luck. No one is going to expect extravagance from them. Hell, they may not even expect a performance.

And me? I can blend into the background as we travel.

I then asked a question to Gnochi’s apprentice, but before the boy could squeak out an answer, Gnochi steered the conversation away.

If possible, let’s keep the lad out of the interview. He is private, and I probably pulled him out of school too early. But, I owed it to his folks to keep an eye on him, so that’s what I’m doing. [The apprentice looked sharply at his teacher at that comment, but Gnochi either didn’t catch the stare, or pointedly ignored it.]

So… what does it mean to be a world-class storyteller?

Telling stories to make my living means that I need to be as much of an observer as an orator. I mean, anyone who can read can read a pre-written story. But… is the pre-written story always the thing which will tug on the heart strings of your audience?

I see, rolling up into this town, that they’re honoring the life of a young lad who died in the king’s army. In my story that might see a king’s prince slay the proverbial dragon, it might instead be the lowly peasant, who saves the day.

So, you lie? Telling fabricated stories or manipulating your audience for a quick coin?

Listen, I never claimed to be a hero. Hell, I’m not even the hero in my own story. There is no world-saving quest that’s causing us to meet in the dark where no other ears can hear. I’m an entertainer, and people like when stories are personalized to them. If making the hero a ruddy-faced farmer gets me enough coin to buy a night under a goose-down comforter, I’m making those adjustments.

You mentioned your dear sister and niece. What about other family? Anyone else you can lean on for support?

Alas, it’s just me. Well, me, and the boy, though I doubt he’s strong enough to lift a blade above his head.

And no spouse? No kids?

[Gnochi laughed]. The worst thing about reading so many stories… I’ve seen humanity at her best and worst. And in comparison, the people in this life are… just so drab. How can I devote myself to anyone who wouldn’t go toe-to-toe with the gods to save their village, or who creates their own magic?

Those are impossibly high standards you’ve set. We are mere mortals, after all. None of us have magic.

Indeed… mortal. Well, look at it this way, I’m saving someone a lifetime of having to hear me babble about stories. Even the lad here will go his own way eventually. [The apprentice stopped writing abruptly, but did not look up from their work.]

I think I know this answer already, but whom, (or what) do you really hate?

Of course, I could write entire epics about the burning hatred I have for those who took my family from me, but that’s pretty standard. We are supposed to hate those who would harm us. But I wanted to take a moment to give a special shout-out to the luddites… So afraid of us finishing the apocalypse that humanity started thousands of years ago that they refuse to accept even incremental technological advances. I mean, I understand not wanting to restart humanity’s nuclear energy program, but… not all technology is created equal.

Any relaxing past-times, when you’re not telling stories, or reading your next story to tell?

I’ve picked up a few skills in my tenure. I can juggle knives like you wouldn’t believe. And I’m self-taught at guitar, though this monstrosity is not my normal instrument. [Gnochi showed me a plain-crafted guitar. I strummed the strings a few times. Outside of being out of tune, I didn’t see anything or hear anything to warrant the insult. It looked like a fine guitar by my understanding. Oh well, we’re going to chalk that off as an idiosyncrasy of the bard’s.]

What does the future hold for you?

Hopefully the future holds a reunion with my family. Local papers will tell of an entertainer who, in a fit of rage, single-handedly ended a smuggling ring connected with… [Gnochi looked like he wanted to reveal more]

Can you share a secret with us, which you’ve never told anyone else?

My repertoire of stories from the world, pre-apocalypse tends to make people think I’m somehow infatuated with the past. That I am a soul from another age and I yearn for the days of nights that have no darkness. But… I’m actually not. While I’m no luddite, I actually understand and agree with a lot of their ideology. I don’t think we should revert to a capability where we could put humanity out of the picture again. But, I’d also like to be able to read at night without getting wax or soot on my pages… Ever is the struggle, I suppose.

Didn’t you just tell me that you have a deep hatred for luddite ideology? And now you’re saying that you can empathize?

Ahh, looks like we’re all out of time. Thanks for chatting with me.

Matt is the author of the Gleeman’s Tales duology, a story about storytelling in the apocalypse (among other things). He enjoys reading, playing, and living everything fantasy and Sci-Fi.

You can find Gnochi on the pages of Gleeman’s Tales.

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