Quoted By:
> Return to Joe’s Cave (Camp)
Mel set the partially sorted notes back down in the box and glanced around the meager campsite, eyes resting briefly on her skeletal friend.
“It could use some sprucing up.” She peered down at the notes and sighed, it was tempting to spend more time with them, there was something in there about summoning imps even, and she could definitely use another pair of hands, or claws at least. But waking up with an aching body every day with nothing but overcooked strips of venison to look forward to was also taking a toll on her. Time to raid Joe’s campsite.
The camp was as she had left it, spoiled food, cluttered boxes, collapsed tent and overturned kettle waiting patiently. She set to work, collapsing the tent, emptying the stale water from the kettle, and gathering up notes.
Notes, a blanket of stitched furs, the fabric of the tent, the kettle all went into a box. Her hand pushed against something hard as she packed the tent away and she pulled out a battered journal, ink faded with age. She flipped through it, taking a momentary break.
<span class="mu-i">Father says that because I begin my apprenticeship tomorrow I should keep a memoire, I am not sure I agree, but he says he will check it daily and thus I must write or face dire consequences. I wonder if I will be allowed to make a sword on my first day as a blacksmith?</span>
This must be something from Joe's childhood…she flipped further forward.
<span class="mu-i">Master caught me making iron roses for Marla today, my arms still ache from the extra work he tasked me with! Still, I think he was impressed by the quality, and I can't fault him being protective of his daughter.</span>
She smiled and found herself wondering if Joe perhaps had a child somewhere beyond this place. As she flipped through idle daydreams she stopped as the neat looping text suddenly went shaky and spikey.
<span class="mu-i">We face a crisis. A stranger arrived at the forge today, strange in both dress and manner. I do not know what words were exchanged but the master grew angry and swung with his hammer. Within moments there was a crack like lightning and the master was dead. The stranger spoke words I had never heard, dropping my Marla to her knees, then forced some elixir into her. The stranger fled, then my Marla became some sort of snarling beast.</span>
Mel shook her head and dropped the journal into the box. She knew the remainder of the story. He had sought magic to heal his love, and had earned an exile instead, while some rogue wizard wandered the land sowing chaos. Hopefully Joe was well on his way now. Time for her to be on her way as well. She made one last pass through the campsite.
<span class="mu-s">Roll 1d100BO3</span>
