I woke up to the sound of dripping and a feeling of warmth I had not felt in a long time. Opening my eyes, I saw I was lying down in my old room, the walls decorated with different parchments I had scavenged, collected, traded for, or—secretly—stolen through the years. Each of them represented brief sections of long forgotten tomes and manuscripts, all of which I hoarded like a wyvern. It was the reason I had gained the nickname ‘Laere,’ or “learn” in an olden tongue early on in my youth. It was the same name I quickly adopted for myself in other contexts as well, though the name ‘Tome’ also served as a name with an entirely different purpose.

“Nathanael, have you awoken?”

Finally, the first name I was given.

“Yes, father,” I called, removing the thick furs I slept in and being quickly overtaken by cold. Hastily, I dressed myself in my usual clothing before draping myself in a smaller fur for comfort. Walking out from my old room, though lingering slightly in its doorway before fully leaving, I made my way to the central firepit of the house, “You called me?”

Entering, I was somewhat surprised to see another figure sitting across from my father. She was Merhild Khinar, an older woman of the village and the head of the Khinar household. I remembered her being of the lively sort when I was younger, yet in that moment there was a darkness to her gaze that concerned me. While it was not a gaze of malice, it was one of…mixed emotions.

“Haf dear, there was no need to have woken him,” she said sweetly to my father before turning to address me, “I’m sorry Laere, I simply stopped by to ask on how you were faring after, well,” she paused, “Recent events.”

My appearance must have darkened, because she quickly spoke up once more.

“Oh, dear! I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” she stood and walked to my side, half-hugging me tightly and moving me towards the table, “I know this must be devastating for you right now, I think it’s likely best for me to leave.”

“No, no,” I said, trying to shake myself back, “You’re fine, I am just—”

“No,” she insisted, clasping my hands in hers and shaking them vigorously, “You have no need to be sorry and it is okay for you to not be fine. Regardless, I must see to family affairs. Now,” she turned to address my father, “Haf Morten, I best see you out of this house sometime by this afternoon if I have to drag you out myself. You’ve been cooped up here for far too long and the village needs you.”

“Yes, yes Merhild,” my father replied begrudgingly, “I will be in the temple this afternoon if needed.”

Merhild frowned, “You’d still be cooping yourself up, but I guess I can accept that. For now,” she pointed an accusatory finger at my father and, after feeling her point had been made, left the house, calling behind her, “Take care, you two.”

I sighed and took a seat at the table. My father, noticing my melancholy, stood to fetch tea. Meanwhile, I noticed my traveling satchel by the door and, after picking it up, flipped it open and withdrew a quill, inkwell, and parchment from it.

[Secure Advantage

Challenge Dice: 7, 8; Action Die: 6 +3wit

Strong Hit: Prepare to Act, Take +2 Momentum

(see description for explanation)]

Quickly, I began to write down various details about what I already knew of the situation. I took vigorous notes on the houses of Losthome and all of the details my father had described to me the day prior about my mother’s illness. The notes especially helped ground me back to reality. They gave me a sense of sanity and control back, something which I thought I had lost the day I read the letter from my father telling me to return. Occasionally, I would ask my father a question or two and, him having been in the town the whole time of my absence and having been by mother’s side, he proved to be a font of knowledge. However, after having finished my note taking, I realized I had written down only details I already knew. While that was certainly useful and would aid me in the future, I knew I needed to take advantage of this head start. Finishing the mug of tea my father had poured me, I thanked him and prepared myself to go into the main of the village.

[Gather Information

Challenge Dice: 10, 4; Action Die 1 +3wit +1 bond

Weak Hit: Complication, +1 Momentum]

 As I was about to exit the door, however, I was stopped in my tracks as I noticed a small pouch in the ashes of the firepit. Quickly, I moved to withdraw it from flames, thinking it something that must have accidentally fallen into the fire. Taking it, I opened the pouch and noticed roots, flower petals, and a few berries within it.

“What’s this,” I asked, glancing at my father whose face paled slightly.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, moving quickly forward and taking the pouch from my hand, “I had been looking for that. Um, might I ask, where did you find this?”

“In the fire pit,” I said, staring questioningly at my father as he glanced at the pouch and noticed the ash on it. As he did, he gasped in realization and began dusting it off.

“Thank you, son,” he said sentimentally, “I know I must seem out of sorts to you, but truly, I am fine.”

“I know,” I said as I began to exit the house once more. This time, however, I felt an ever-increasing sense of suspicion begin to grow which, try as I might to quell it, it continued in its growth as I glanced back and noticed my father throw the pouch back into the fire.

[Reach a Milestone

Formidable quest: Mark 1 Progress]

*   *   *