The afternoon sun leaks through the dusty shutters of Wolfie's cottage, illuminating a cloud of dancing motes. Wolfie is curled into a tight ball on his cot, deep in the blissful void of a post-lunch dream. Suddenly, the front door bangs open, hitting the wall with a thunderous crack.
Haldan
Wolfie! You lazy whelp, wake up! The ancestors do not suffer dreamers while their steel rusts in the mud!
Wolfie
My eyelids weigh more than a dragon. If I don't move, maybe he will assume the house is haunted and leave.
Haldan
I know you are under those blankets. My father’s sword, the heirloom of our lineage, was last seen in your clutches after the feast. Where is it?
A grizzled man in worn chainmail strides into the center of the room, his boots crunching on spilled parchment. He looms over the cot, his hand resting menacingly on his empty belt, eyes searching the shadows for the glimmer of silver steel.
+ Scene Quest Added
Find the missing heirloom sword
“Oh fuck *What **DID** i do with it.. that wasn't the night with the succubus draft and the...*”
FAILURE (Fair Reasoning, rolled -1)
Wolfie
The fog of the dream is thick, but the frantic search for a memory is thicker. Was it in the tavern? Or the stable? My head is a hollow gourd filled with stagnant water.
Wolfie
I recall a dance, Haldan. I recall a drink. I do not recall the steel, nor why it would be anywhere near my bed.
Wolfie
You drank away my family honor?
Wolfie
This sorcerer is more insolent than the rumors suggest. He hides behind his blankets while I stand in the ruin of his own making.
Wolfie
Stand up, boy! If you cannot find the blade, you will find a way to pay for the insult!
Haldan lunges forward, seizing the edge of the cot and heaving it upward. Wolfie rolls off, tumbling into a pile of dusty, forgotten scrolls as the cot clatters against the wall. He lands hard on his shoulder, his hands grasping at empty air where he hoped to find his dagger.
“**think** ...”
SUCCESS (Fair Reasoning, rolled +1)
Wolfie
The heavy thud of my shoulder against the floorboards clears the sleep from my skull instantly. My eyes sweep the room, tracking the trajectory of the overturned cot and the swirling dust. My hand brushes against a jagged bit of wood—it is not my dagger, but it will suffice.
Wolfie
You want to play rough, Haldan? I hope your family heirloom is worth the bruises you are about to collect.
Wolfie
He is too focused on the wreckage. His grip on the cot is sloppy, leaving his chest wide open. If I pivot off this pile of scrolls, I can trip him before he realizes I am back on my feet.
Wolfie
Enough talk, sorcerer! Give me the blade or suffer the consequences of your thievery!
Haldan charges, his boots thundering across the floorboards as he readies a heavy, grasping hand to haul Wolfie up by the collar. Wolfie coils his muscles, ready to launch himself into a tactical roll toward the door.
“*NO , ABOUT WHERE THE SWORD IS* (Screams some, half conscious aspect of his manyy a time fractured mind, another urges him to run, or deescalate, another wants him to fight, one... zzzzzzzz, is already asleep)”
FAILURE (Great Willpower, rolled -2)
Wolfie
My mind is a fractured mess. One voice screams to run, another urges a swift strike, and a third—the most insistent—simply wants the blissful dark of a dream. My eyelids flicker, struggling to find a singular focus as Haldan closes the distance. The exhaustion of a thousand naps wins out.
Wolfie
Maybe... check under the... floorboards near the larder? I think... that is where...
Wolfie
Wait. Did I say that out loud? That sounded remarkably unhelpful. Why am I negotiating with a man who just threw me across the room?
Wolfie
You think you can bait me with lies, sorcerer? I have no patience for your games!
Haldan ignores the stuttered suggestion and lunges, his massive hand closing around the collar of Wolfie's robe. The momentum snaps Wolfie backward, his heels dragging against the splintered floorboards. The sorcerer's lethargy turns his limbs into lead, preventing any graceful roll or counter-strike. He dangles, caught and helpless, as Haldan looms over him.
“*Nap, nap so hard you dream*”
SUCCESS (Great Health, rolled +2)
Wolfie
The world stops. As Haldan’s grip tightens, my mind doesn’t panic. It pivots. I slip into the heavy, velvet shroud of my own subconscious. Let him pull. Let him shout. The anger is a distant hum, like bees buzzing behind a thick glass wall. I am already descending, weightless, into the deep, dark sea of a well-earned slumber. The shoulder pain fades into a dull, unimportant tingle. If I am to be a captive, I shall be a very sleepy one.
Wolfie
You insolent brat! Wake up! Look at me when I am speaking to you!
Wolfie
The man is loud. His voice is a pebble in a stream, but the water is too deep for it to make a ripple. Sleep is the only true magic worth practicing. Everything else is just noise.
“*Use napping skill to... dream of where the damn sword ended up?”
SUCCESS (Legendary napping, rolled -2)
Wolfie’s head lolls forward as he drifts into a forced, mystical fugue. Between the frantic shouting of his captor, the sorcerer’s mind wanders through the cobwebs of his own messy cottage.
Wolfie
The sword. It isn't in the chest. I remember now. I used it to prop up that uneven floorboard near the hearth when the rain started leaking last Tuesday. How dreadfully mundane.
Wolfie
Did you hear me? Stop that twitching, you lazy worm!
Wolfie
I see the handle, partially obscured by a pile of mildewed scrolls. It’s barely three feet from where his heavy boots are currently grinding my rugs into dust. If I could just wake up enough to point, he might stop shaking me like a ragdoll.
Wolfie
My patience is gone. Where is the blade, sorcerer?
Wolfie
The answer is right there under his heel, buried beneath the mess he made. My exhaustion is a shield, but curiosity is pulling at the edges of my dream. Do I tell him and earn my freedom, or let him keep searching until he gets tired?
“*WAKE UP* (Unfortunately he's a little TOO good at napping, the man used tim3 dilation so he could have enhance his napa)”
SUCCESS (Great Willpower, rolled +3)
Wolfie snaps his eyes open. The temporal haze shatters like thin ice, the slow motion of the room snapping back into real time. He draws a sharp, ragged breath, his fingers digging into the fabric of his own robes as he forces his sluggish muscles to obey.
Wolfie
Put me down, you insufferable oaf. Unless you want to stand on your own sword for the rest of the afternoon.
Wolfie
My heart is hammering against my ribs, a rude protest against my forced awakening. My shoulder throbs, but my mind is clear.
Wolfie
What are you babbling about? The sword is gone, you lying wretch!
Wolfie
Look at your feet. You are currently grinding your family legacy into the floorboards. Try not to break the pommel while you stomp around.
Wolfie
Haldan freezes, his face darkening with a mix of fury and confusion as he glances down at his own heavy boots. He finally notices the glint of steel peeking through the dust near his heel. Does he realize his own incompetence, or is he about to snap me in half?
Quest Complete
Find the missing heirloom sword
Fault Removed: lazy