Rain ticks on the stone walls of the keeper’s lodge. The Hedge Wizard slumps against the altar, one hand braced on its edge, shoulders shaking with each ragged breath.
Parker stays close as the room settles around them. The chain on the door hangs still, and the ghosts’ distant cries fade into the weather.
Oryn
Too much strain... but the circle still holds.
The wizard reaches for the bench and only manages a weak grip. His posture says he would rather hide the weakness than speak of it.
Parker
His breathing is shallow. He needs rest.
Parker takes a cup from the table and brings it within the wizard’s reach. The gesture is small, but it steadies the room.
Oryn
Thank you, lad. I thought I could carry the whole ward on my own.
His mouth twitches at that, half apology and half rueful pride. The altar’s candles gutter low, and the lodge falls into a quiet that finally feels safe enough to speak in.
“I tend the hedge wizard's wounds”
SUCCESS (Fair Medicine, rolled +2)
Parker kneels beside the altar and sets his tools and cloth within arm’s reach. The wizard stays braced on the stone, watching with tired, guarded eyes.
Parker cleans the worst of the grime from a thin cut along the wizard’s forearm, then presses a folded strip of cloth there. The blood slows at once.
Oryn
A steady hand. Better than mine would be, right now.
He exhales through his teeth as Parker binds the dressing snugly, not tight enough to bite. His shoulders drop a fraction.
Oryn
That’s the worst of it. The rest is only weariness, and pride refusing to admit it.
Parker checks the wizard’s temple and wrist for signs of strain. The candlelight catches a new detail, a bruise-dark smear of warding soot on the man’s sleeve, fresh where the magic tore.
Oryn
If you want the truth, lad, the ward did not fail from force. Someone fed it doubt. A whisper, a remembered fear, something keen enough to split a seam.
He lifts his gaze toward the barred door, as if he can still feel the ghosts waiting in the mist beyond it. Then he looks back to Parker, more awake now, and ready to continue.
“I offer the wizard more water and rest”
SUCCESS (Fair Medicine, rolled +0)
Parker sets the cup within the wizard’s reach and eases him down against the altar stone. The room stays hushed, but the chain at the door gives a small, nervous rattle in the draft.
Parker
Take a little more. Rest if you can.
He tips the cup carefully, just enough for the wizard to sip without spilling. A few drops darken the stone at his elbow, and Parker’s sleeve brushes the soot-marked fabric.
Oryn
Waste not the last of your water on me, lad, unless you mean to keep me alive for questioning.
Oryn
Still... yes. That helps more than pride ever does.
The wizard drinks, slowly at first, then with a steadier swallow. Color returns to his face by degrees, enough to sharpen the tired line of his mouth into something more like resolve.
Oryn
The feeling in the ward was not just fear. It was shaped fear, aimed on purpose. Someone knew exactly what thought to feed it.
He holds the cup between both hands now, staring into it as if the answer might rise in the water. Outside, the ghosts remain only a faint press of pale shapes beyond the barred door, waiting.
Oryn
If I name the hand behind it, Parker, I will need one more quiet breath first.
“Does the wizard know the saboteur's name?”
YES, AND MORE (Likely, rolled 8)
Oryn
I know the name, Parker. It is my own apprentice, Kaelith, who turned the doubt inward to break the seal.
Oryn
She always had a talent for finding the cracks in a foundation, but I never thought she would use it to let the dead inside.
The wizard sighs, his shoulders slumping as he finally speaks his name, his voice barely a whisper against the rattling door. I am called Oryn, and I fear I have taught her too well.
“I ask Oryn what Kaelith changed in the ward”
SUCCESS (Great Reasoning, rolled +0)
Parker
What did Kaelith change in the ward?
Oryn lifts his head at once, the regret in his face hardening into a tired kind of clarity. He reaches for the altar stone and traces an invisible line in the dust, as if the shape is still there.
Oryn
Not the stones. Not the salt. She touched the faith threaded through it. The seam where the ward expects certainty, she taught it to hesitate.
His fingers curl and unclench. Outside, the chain on the lodge door gives a low, warning rattle, then settles again.
Oryn
Kaelith learned my old phrases, my prayers, the little doubts I mutter when I am alone. She fed them back through the circle until the ward listened for fear instead of truth.
Parker
The sabotage is inside the wording, not the wall.
Oryn
That is why brute force failed. She did not break it. She persuaded it to break itself.
Quest Complete
Discover who sabotaged the ward
Attribute Upgrade: Strength Good→Great