I hobbled down the wet road toward the nearest tavern, pulling my cloak tighter around me in a vain attempt to ward off the cold and, in some way, drown out all those whispers that apparently only I could hear. That damned witch had really gotten to me. How could someone half my size be so powerful?!

Ugh, whatever... It’ll be fine if that weird kenku wasn’t lying and didn’t swindle me out of three silver coins for bad information. If he was right, I’ll be able to find the witch he mentioned and break this curse. I continued walking until I heard the sound of music and spotted a brightly lit tavern at the end of the road.

Once there, I headed straight for the bar to gather information. The bartender pointed to the back of the tavern, a quieter area where a woman sat at a table with a tarot deck in hand. A few people lingered around the table, but they quickly dispersed when I shot them a threatening glare and took a seat in front of the woman.

"What?!" I shouted, rising from my chair and slamming my hands on the table, leaning toward the witch. There was no way I was hearing this right—was I seriously going to have to do this cursed job?!

"I have to fulfill the final wish of some spirit that’s been haunting me for days, and I’ve got nothing to do with this mess?! I’m a barbarian, not a necromancer, damn it!" I exclaimed, my frustration boiling over. That cursed witch who put this spell on me had just signed her death warrant. Once I get rid of this curse, she’ll have a very pointed conversation with my axe!

I took a deep breath and sat back down, noticing that I’d drawn the attention of the entire tavern. I didn’t want to start a fight with over 30 people.

"Fine... But how will I know that this shroud will stop tormenting me? Are you coming with me?" I asked, uncertain. When it came to magic, I felt like a five-year-old trying to understand Draconic.