A month after Pike’s records passed into royal custody, Dagg reaches a roadside forge outside Devia. Coal smoke drifts across the quiet road, and a dwarf smith waits beside his workbench.
Across the scarred bench lies a long sword wrapped in oilcloth and bound with cord. A red wax seal rests beside it, stamped with the royal device.
Thren Anvile
You are Dagg Nabbitt. I am Thren Anvile, and I have been waiting for you.
The dwarf keeps both hands visible near the wrapped blade. His forge burns low behind him, while a sealed royal message lies open enough to show Dagg’s name on its outer fold.
Thren Anvile
This sword belonged to an ancestral line, or so two houses have claimed for generations. The royal message ties that old dispute to names uncovered in Pike’s records.
Thren Anvile
One of those names has now sought the blade back. I ask you to hear the claim before steel, wealth, or rank decides it.
Thren places one calloused hand atop the oilcloth, guarding neither the sword nor the message. The road remains open behind Dagg, but the forge offers a place to listen.
✓ Quest Accepted
Establish the sword's rightful ownership
“I will do this if the legendary Thren Anvile would be so kind to give my sword an upgrade. I have heard of your smith work for years and always wanted to have something forged by you. Can you do something that would help my sword?”
SUCCESS (Superb Reasoning, rolled +2)
Dagg Nabbitt
If you would be so kind, Master Anvile, could you upgrade my sword? I have wanted something forged by you for years. Can it be made more useful?
Dagg unwraps the sword and sets it across the bench. His relaxed wish to be home with his guitar lingers in the unhurried gesture, but his questions have been precise and practical.
Thren Anvile
You ask the right question. A fine blade should answer its owner’s work, not merely carry a famous maker’s name.
Thren examines the fuller, edge, balance, and worn grip, asking where Dagg has carried it and what danger the blade must meet. Dagg answers each point without embellishment.
Thren Anvile
Yes. I can improve it. I will strengthen the edge, rebalance the hilt, and give the steel a channel that will hold your strange purple smoke without weakening the blade.
He unwraps his tools and accepts the sword into his care, naming the work and its price plainly. The upgrade is agreed: Thren will forge the blade for Dagg’s practical needs.
“could you add something of your own personal touch to it as well? maybe a way to ignite it or cast spells from it!?”
SUCCESS (Superb Reasoning, rolled +0)
Dagg Nabbitt
Could you add a personal touch as well? A way to ignite it, or perhaps cast spells through the blade?
Dagg points out the requested changes in the royal message and the smith’s stated terms, checking each detail against the sword’s purpose. His relaxed pace makes the request sound almost casual, but the procedure is exact.
Thren Anvile
A private mark, then. I can set a thumb-plate into the guard to kindle the purple smoke, and shape the channel to guide a spell from your hand through the edge.
Thren measures the grip, guard, and fuller, following the agreed forging steps rather than promising vague wonders. The Sword’s existing purple smoke gives him a sound path for the custom work.
Thren Anvile
It will be yours alone in its details. Press the plate to ignite the smoke, or hold it while casting to carry the spell along the blade. I accept the addition.
He sketches the mechanism and casting channel on a slate, then adds the personal mark to the written work order. The custom ignition and spell path are now part of the sword’s agreed upgrade.
“Thank you Master Dwarf. When will it be ready? I can go handle this mission you have given me and be back by sunset”
FAILURE (Superb Reasoning, rolled -3)
Dagg Nabbitt
Thank you, Master Anvile. When will it be ready? I can handle this mission and be back by sunset.
Dagg checks the written work order, tracing each promised step and its required cooling, tempering, and fitting periods. His relaxed eye lingers on the sword’s custom marks, costing him a careful estimate.
Thren Anvile
Not by sunset. The blade needs three days in my care, and your mission cannot be honestly scheduled until we know its distance and terms.
Thren turns the slate toward Dagg and marks the forge stages beside the mission’s still-unfixed obligations. The procedure makes the conflict plain: a sunset promise would be guesswork.
Thren Anvile
You may leave for the mission now, but I will not call you back by sunset. Return on the fourth morning, and the upgraded sword will be ready.
The requested deadline falls away. Dagg has a clear departure window and a firm return date, but his plan to finish the mission by sunset remains unaccepted until its actual demands are known.
“Thank you again. I will be on my way. {Dagg whistles to his dog to follow} We will see you soon Master Dwarf”
SUCCESS (Superb Agility, rolled +1)