Balthazar the Bored Bard's Band of Brothers

Moments later there was nothing left of the "Pub" but a blackened crater in the ground.
In fact, there was nothing left of the buildings either side either, or half the street for that matter. I felt sorry for the owners of "Hotel" and "Subway" but reassured myself that most likely they had insurance, and hopefully had not been in their establishments at the time.
Of Percy and the Trader, there was no sign, but I liked to think they had been vapourised, and because this was still a relatively early stage of my quest and the uncertainty of their survival could potentially provide important plot-points later in my journey, I decided to take this unfounded assumption as truth and not attempt to prove it one way or the other.

I sighed a satisfied sigh, and tried to think of my next step.
The Outflank stores that I had recently patronized (and because of their antiquated till-system and regional accents, you can read this word either way) had supplied a good portion of the ingredients for Melvin's final potion, but there were still a number of the more difficult ones remaining, ones that would most likely not be found in stores, but would require a difficult and dangerous quest to retrieve, and likely also require me to have a ragtag band of companions in order to properly look the part on my journey.
Usually one would go about assembling such a ragtag band in a pub, but given my recent spate of revenge, I needed another option.
Luckily, the extra-strength four-leaf clover I had tied around my wrist that morning was obviously working (although maybe I should have tied it around my left wrist), because I had only just thought this thought, when a figure approached who would become very helpful in this task.
"Forsooth, I see the pub has been destroyed."
I turned to face this new arrival, and realised quickly that he was a minstrel.
Of course, even without seeing him, his speech had made me optimistic that this would be the case, as like all minstrels he spoke only in iambic pentameter, but the over-sized hat with a large purple feather, the ridiculous puffy pants and orange tights, and the lute strapped firmly to his back (complete with a "I (HEART) CONSTANTINOPLE" sticker) confirmed this suspicion.
"A minstrel!" I exclaimed for the benefit of any blind readers.
"Indeed I am a minstrel and a bard,
And who, obliterating pubs, are you?"
I introduced myself, and explained my impending quest. The minstrel, Balthazar, who also like all minstrels was bored witless and had absolutely nothing better to do, quickly agreed to come with me, and, even better, told me that he would gather the remaining band-members on my behalf.
After making sure that by "band-members" he was referring to a ragtag band and not his supporting act, I agreed.

Half an hour later, my newly-formed ragtag group met by an old oak tree outside of Outflank (which had a number of yellow ribbons tied around it for some obscure reason), and I patiently nodded as Balthazar introduced them to me in the round-about minstrel fashion.

"The first companion I have found for you,
Hath lost her father true some years ago,
And now doth seek revenge against the man
Who struck him down without a second glance."

Ah, the young wanna-be warrior girl! A vital part of any quest. And tied in with the avenging hero trope! Two for one!

"The next of whom shall join us on this quest
Be short of leg but stout of girth and heart,
Who vows to God hath taken long ago,
And cooks a hearty portion for us all."

Oooh! A midget monk cook! Balthazar was pulling out all the stops now! I made a mental note to contact Balthazar if I ever needed a wedding planner. He would surely make it a day to remember!

"Up next, a silent man who can discern
The tracks a flea doth leave upon a peach
Who, anything be lost, will find again."

The tracker looked vaguely mysterious and perhaps untrustworthy.
Excellent! I was beginning to think that our group would miss out on the 'hero or traitor' subplot that all real quests required.

"And last, a man of legend and renown,
Both strong of might and sword, which handily
Doth make him beneficial to your cause,
Protecting us from all that shall assail."

Hmmm, this one looked suspiciously like a certain barbarian hero I had recently read about in another blognovel. I was worried that this was a sign that the authors were running low on ideas, and perhaps beginning to double-up on plot-points, but decided that perhaps Balthazar was merely a fan of good fiction, or had met the barbarian on an unrelated quest.

Either way, the rag-tag band was complete.
And, wanting to waste no more time, we set out towards the Mountains of Despair in search of my next ingredient: Whisper of Gnome.

To the left * To the left *** To the Right