Quest Simplified Construction

[Arnor Skuldsson]

THE SPINE
KNIGHT'S REST​

"It... appeared."

The men in the tavern all nodded in unison.

"Started out with trees poppin' up.."

"Then it was them damn roads in the woods!"​

"Now we got old farms, houses, taverns, where they shouldn't be!"

Arnor could hardly believe himself, them. But the Bounty Board had spoken of roads, buildings, farms, being popped up all over the Spine, more specifically in and around Knight's Rest, a quaint village of mostly former Knights, soldiers, and mercenaries from around the Spine.

"So.. why couldn't you all handle it? I don't see the issue."

"The farms burned down years ago!"

"We undid those roads to connect to the main travel roads! Months of work, come back in an instant!"

"Zombies are next!"

​

----​

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They did bring up a good point. If these things were coming back in the same condition they were in not even a few years ago, what was to stop people from coming next? But this was far beyond Arnor's skills as a tracker, and Hunter. Thus, Arnor put up his own money to send out flyers for mages, scholars, and druids to come forth and aid him in his quest. And in the week or so that he had spent traveling to and fro delivering the message to criers, yet more farms returned, flush with grain and apples- even removing some of the hills, or literally falling onto it.

It was as if someone held up these old buildings and dropped them- complete with what they had in them not even five years ago. Knight's Rest wasn't the only place, the Spine was erupt with similar reports.

And Arnor's fears that the living would be the next to come back, or somehow, worse than-that, only grew more by the day. But for the moment, it seemed that the force beyond such a thing was content with dropping farms and trees where it pleased. What puzzled Arnor is that they came rooted, the soil tilled and the buildings set into foundations. As if they were... just taken and built in an instance, in a different spot.

In most cases these buildings were in perfect condition, farms built where soil had been left for the season to prevent over-farming, much to the chagrin of the populace so dependent on agriculture.

Perhaps rightfully so, many steered clear of these newfound homes, afraid that ghosts, demons, or worse lay in wait for those that entered. Arnor himself had not ventured to investigate these, a reasonable fear of being a victim of some monster or spirit, or demon, front at his mind.

For the moment, Arnor waited patiently for a scholarly-minded person to answer his calls for aid- along with the able-bodied and stronger adventurers that he called upon, sitting on the porch of the Rusted Warhammer, the largest tavern in Knight's Rest. He rather enjoyed the weather. Not too cold, not too warm, a light breeze. He rocked back forth on his chair, smoking from his pipe.

After all, things tended to go south rather quickly. He liked to enjoy his quiet time when he could.