The dock creaks under a new weight. A heavy-set man in a weathered yellow slicker steps up from shore, then freezes when he sees the rusted shard on the gunwale.
Caelan watches the man’s face go pale in the cold air.
The Man in the Yellow Slicker
Sorry. I thought I heard voices down here.
The Teenager
We’re just fishing.
The Man in the Yellow Slicker
That piece of iron. Where did you get it?
He does not move closer. His eyes stay on Caelan, as if the shard is only the reason he can justify looking.
Caelan Thorne
It came up in the line. You know it?
The Man in the Yellow Slicker
No. I mean, maybe. I work the marina. I’ve seen old junk pulled from the lake before, but not like that.
“If you don't mind I'm going to keep it and turn it into something for him since it's his first catch *I justre to the boy when i say this*”
FAILURE (Mediocre Psychology, rolled -2)
Caelan keeps his voice light and low. He tilts the shard away from the marina worker, then angles the line toward the boy’s hands instead. It is an old piece of metal, he says, and if the boy lands a first catch, he can have the trouble instead of the lesson.
The Man in the Yellow Slicker
Have it? No, you should not keep that.
The man’s gaze snaps from Caelan to the shard and back again. His knuckles tighten at his sides, and the cold on the water seems to deepen around the boat.
The Teenager
It is just for me? Like a good-luck thing?
The boy leans in, curiosity winning over caution. His fingers hover near the pole, but his eyes stay on the rusted fragment, waiting for Caelan to confirm the offer.
The Man in the Yellow Slicker
That is not junk. That came from deep water, and it should go to the marina office. Right now.
The dock falls silent except for the soft slap of water under the hull. The man does not step closer, but he is no longer pretending this is casual.
“Seems like you know what it is mind explaining why it isn't junk *I say this knowing that the marina office wouldn't care because I fished it up on m property not public* because all this is, is scrap metal”
SUCCESS (Mediocre Psychology, rolled +1)
Caelan Thorne
Seems like you know what it is. Mind explaining why it is not junk?
The Man in the Yellow Slicker
Because it is not ordinary scrap. I have seen pieces like that pulled from deep water before, and they do not belong in anybody’s hands.
The man keeps his distance, but his voice loses some of its bite. He is looking at the shard like it might stain the dock just by lying there.
The Teenager
If it is really mine now, then he is not just being weird about old metal.
The boy’s shoulders ease a little. He shifts his grip on the pole, watching Caelan instead of the shard for the first time.
The Man in the Yellow Slicker
That piece should not stay here. If you found it on your boat, then at least tell me where it came up.
The question hangs between dock and boat, less like a demand now than a wary invitation to explain.
“I told you we were fishing and he pulled it up on this here section of river *I point to the river* but this part of the river is my land so I don't want to see you on it got it”
SUCCESS (Great Willpower, rolled +0)
Caelan Thorne
I told you, we were fishing. He pulled it up from this stretch of river, and this part is my land. I do not want you on it.
Caelan points past the dock, toward the dark, still water. The words land cleanly, with no heat wasted on them.
The Man in the Yellow Slicker
He is not bluffing. He is drawing a line, and he means it.
The man’s shoulders tighten under the yellow slicker. He looks from Caelan to the boy, then back to the shard on the gunwale.
The Teenager
So... we keep fishing?
The question hangs there, small but steady, while the dock worker’s hand falls away from the edge of the boat.
The Man in the Yellow Slicker
I am leaving the dock. But I am not done with that piece.
“Good now leave *I grab the harpoon from under the seat and point it at him*”
SUCCESS (Great Strength, rolled -1)
Caelan slides the harpoon free from under the seat and brings it up between them. The point catches the gray light, steady as a ruling line.
The man in the yellow slicker stops cold. His hands lift a little, then settle where the weapon can see them.
The Man in the Yellow Slicker
All right. I am going.
He backs away along the dock, eyes never leaving the harpoon, every step careful on the slick boards.
The Teenager
That was... enough?
The water stays flat, the shard still on the gunwale, but the dock worker’s retreat opens a pocket of silence around the boat.
The teenager waits with the pole in both hands, looking to Caelan for the next instruction.
“Now we fish for dinner *I continue to teach the teenager how to fish*”
SUCCESS (Legendary Fishing, rolled -3)
Caelan lowers the harpoon out of the boy’s line of sight and shifts the pole back into teaching hands. The dock is still cold, but the lesson finally has room to breathe.
Caelan Thorne
Now we fish for dinner.
He guides the teenager’s grip, thumb here, fingers there, then nudges the tip toward the water. The line tightens as it drops, and the boy copies the motion on his own.
The Teenager
It feels steadier like this.
A tug runs through the pole. Caelan shows him how to give just enough and then lift. The fish comes up thrashing, silver flashing once before it clears the surface.
The Teenager
I got it. I actually got it.
The catch lands in the boat with a wet slap, and a burst of lake water splashes across Caelan’s sleeve. The line burns a shallow sting into his palm, but the boy is grinning at the pole like it has become his own.
Quest Complete
Teach the teenager how to fish
Attribute Upgrade: Strength Great→Superb