The cool fall breeze rolled through the hills and valleys of the King's Valley. Normally, it would cause a normal fellow to shiver to some extent. Not this little guy. Lyeth sat up from bed, if you could even call the pile of clothes a bed. Nevertheless, the mothling enjoyed the bit of sleep as he threw on his mask, made his way down the attic, and into the living room.
"Mister, what are we doing today?" He greeted the farmer who allowed the short one stay. The man was sat at the kitchen, enjoying a meal of corn bread and eggs. He barely gave glance to Lyeth, more focused on his paper than anything the kid had to mention.
"Mornin' kid. The woolfuls escaped again. You know what to do." 
"Mm, do I have to do it by myself again?" The last few times weren't too great. A fair bit of bumps and bruises were the only reward he received last time.
"Kid, how many times do I gotta remind you? I give you the offering, you do as I say. Its what you fae-folk are supposed to do."
"Mmm, ok..." Lyeth grabbed his batch of scarves oh so nicely sat by the front door. As he began the process of wrapping up, a bright idea formed in the moth's head. He looked over, making sure the farmer was still focused on his paper. Creeping and tip-toeing carefully, he went over to the desk, yoinking a couple parchments and a pen. Lyeth stuffed the pieces into layer of scarves.
"I'm off mister!"
"Ya ya..." Lyeth rushed out, forgetting to close the door behind him.

Strolling through town, he began with his master ploy: Writing lost and found posters. A majority of the folk avoided the path of the nibblenynh as he walked and messily wrote/drew up a poster.
"It's perfect!" Lyeth looked at his aformentioned masterpiece, it being a sloppy drawing of a woolful that looked to be more cloud than wooly and the words "Hep Wantid".

---

SPOILER: Click to show

Quest Name: A Wool Full
Participants: Two or more
Location: Anywhere
Post Requirements: 4 post per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown
Description: A small group of Woolful (3-6) have found themselves stuck in a dire situation. Maybe they are stuck in a recently opened fissure, or at risk of drowning in a flooded area. Maybe some hostile predator is hunting them, or maybe they are just lost, regardless of what is causing them danger, they need your help. Be careful, Woolful are easily spooked off and are already terrified. Do what you can to rescue the little creatures before nature, or something worse, claims them.

Javal was walking through the woods looking for a place to train and relax his mind, he had a lot of work in the past couple of weeks without a break. He needed to relax a bit and take some time for himself. He had a lot to reflect on from all of his new adventurers from fighting some mephits and dealing with annoying family politics to even doing his normal jobs like helping grandmothers shop or helping get cats out of trees.



He sat on a rock in a small clearing looking over his blade before putting it back into his waistband. First, he needed to train the essentials, his fists and his feet.



He took off his coat leaving only his orange sleeveless vest on and began fighting with nearby trees and managed to take down four and knock them down into the ground.



As he sat back down to cool off he looked at a nearby tree with a piece of paper on it, “Help wantid, huh” and a cute little drawing of a woolful.



“Well I can’t refuse that offer, can I? Well, helping people is what I do and if this person wants help I can’t just sit around”, he stands back up and walks around looking for any signs of the people who posted it or any woolfuls along the path.

It is a bit disheartening as few of the locals pay any mind to the posters asking for assistance. A few of the farmers scoff and roll their eyes at the news that the man's sheep had escaped yet again. Seems this was not an unusual event in this area. 

Someone mentions something about a swordsman in the area who might help, but he apparently disappeared into a corpse of sparse trees just outside of town. They at least mentioned his odd dress, stating that he must be a traveler from further west given his clothing. 

While there was no guarantee that person might help, it couldn't hurt to ask, right?

A young teen with buck teeth and a smattering of freckles across his nose then approaches Lyeth. They're a scrappy individual with holes in the knees of their grass-stained pants and their shirt sloppily half-tucked into their belt. They bounce a pointed stick on their shoulder which would be a bit concerning if they didn't have a friendly grin on their face.

"Hey!" the boy greets Lyeth. "I saw that ol' codger's missin' woolfuls not far down the road. They were chewin' on some stiff left lyin' in the middle of the road. We were gonna poke at it but the adults pitched a fit. If ya hurry, maybe ya can catch 'em before they're full."

He wipes his nose on his sleeve before he walks off whistling as if telling someone a corpse was left on the road was just a normal everyday occurrence.

How strange, but if the woolfuls were poking around a dead body it would probably be a good idea to go get them before they could accidentally eat something sharp and pointy or get sick with rot. 

As soon as the kid heard of the news, he immediately began bolting to where those woolful supposedly were, the posters he made being left behind to scatter in the wind.
"Thank you friend!" The mothling remembered when he attempted to give them the farmer's leftovers of roast beef, recalling how mad he had gotten and the punishment thereafter. He didn't quite understand what a "stiff" was but it definitely wasn't grass the farmer explicably said the woolful could only eat.

Lyeth ran as fast as little legs could carry, nearly tripping over his now dragging scarves though switching to running on all six. It was a strange sight but that was the least of his worries. As fate would have it, there they were. Harassing what Lyeth could only guess as someone taking a nap in the middle of the roadway, the woolfuls were gnawing on the fellow's clothing. He couldn't blame them, the work on those articles make for a good snack. The kid would know from experience of course. The nibblenynh got back on his legs and walked over.
"Hey, leave him alone! He's tired." The kid began shooing them away, having to tug with all four arms on the horns of the woolful just to rip them away from the guy. They colored sheep barely budged, the kid not being well known for his strength. Just then, the sounds of clopping and wooden wheels spinning slowed as horse drawn wagons that were attempting to pass came to full stop. Annoyed shouting erupted from the coachmen as many a passerby began watching the fuzzy roadblock, finding the current events unfolding to be comical. Needing to act a bit more quicker now with the ongoing pressure of displeased drivers, Lyeth began shaking the guy in an attempt to wake them. "Mister, we need to move please. Wake up." 

All the noise was starting to get to the little one. The yelling, the laughter, the restless horses now getting impatient, the unbothered baas of the woolful. Not to mention if he didn't take care of this soon, he'd received another day in the attic. "Mister, please. They're getting mad." 

Javal continues looking around the area trying to get out of the sparse trees that he had found himself in. He realized that far in the distance there appeared to be signs of civilizations such as a windmill and some houses. 


“That is probably a village or town up ahead. Well, I think the person who posted the poster is probably one of the townspeople there. Perhaps I should head over there to look for people who need help”, he thought to himself.


He walks away from the corpse of trees and stops before coating the bottom of his sandals with cold energy coating the bottom of his sandals with ice (1). He then gets in a runner’s position and bolts zooming throughout the forest at high speed due to his magically enhanced feet. He eventually almost hits a tree as he spots the main road to the right of him. So he decides to slow down and walk over to the main road to avoid any more close ones with tree branches.



After a little bit of walking he gets impatient and once more bolts off with his frozen feet as he’s running he notices a corpse in the middle of the road up ahead.

---

1. Frozen Feet

Being shaken awake is not the most pleasant, but it does the trick. Everett's eyes flit open as Lyeth pleads with him to get up and move before they get yelled at more by the increasingly annoyed drivers. 

"Ugh...not again..." He groans and rolls over which spooks some of the woolfuls nibbling at his boots.

The cotton candy floofs baaaaaa loudly and trot off into the nearby fields while the wagon drivers on the road continue to complain and shout at the pair obstructing the path. 

Finally, he pushes himself up to sit and holds his head a bit as if hit it. There's no damage, no blood, no bruises or cuts, but he scrunches his face trying to remember what happened. 

It's not as bad as before, he at least recognizes the immediate area and can recall that he was traveling on foot for a while. The question is why? He can't remember why he was so far from the coast or if something happened to trigger his sudden collapse. 

Another angry shout from one of the wagon drivers gets him to move out of the way with the nibblenynh. Everett rubs the back of his head and watches the wagons move along before he turns his attention back down to the small nibblenynh standing at his side just off the road. 

"Sorry about that." He says to Lyeth before noticing that there are holes gnawed through his clothes from the woolfuls. "Aw, damn. I just got these too...I think..." His face scrunches again as he tries to recall if that is true or not. He gives up after a moment and sighs. "Anyway, sorry for the trouble, little one. Thanks for waking me up."

It's at this point, a purple fellblood swordsman walks up as well. The wagons have moved on, but the woolfuls are still at large. 

Lyeth pats the man's leg in reassurance. 
"Its ok. Why were you sleeping in the streets sir? And outside without a tent too. Papa always tells me that you should only sleep where you can be safe. My cotton friends almost ate you." 

As the nibblenynh listened to the one-armed stranger, realization struck. All the woolfuls had been making their way out to the field. There were a few stragglers but a separation of the herd would just make the job more difficult, not to mention there'd be less people who would have eyes on them if they reached the forest.
"Ah! Sorry mister, I gotta go get the woolies!" He started to take off to the nearest one. "Cmon Fuzzy, farm man will get mad if we take too long getting home." The woolful responded with an unsurprising baa. "I know, I don't wanna get in trouble either." The kid grabbed onto the colorful sheep's wool, pulling on it to try and tug it back to the farm. The woolful gave little leeway as it remained, refusing to budge. Lyeth, getting a little annoyed himself, pulled harder on the bright blue coat. He tugged and tugged, until the pieces of wool he held onto tore off. He fell backwards, landing on his behind and huffing with child-like irritation. 

Getting back up, the mothling walked back to the street napper.
"Actually sir, can you help me please? I promise I can fix your clothes if you do." It was at that time Lyeth noticed the fellblood walk up. He backed up nervously, eyeing the sword on his hilt before relaxing once he sees the poster he made on their person. "Oh are you helping too purple guy?" 

Javal slams his feet into the ground, digging his heels into the ground to stop his momentum from taking him further. He then dusted his feet and sandals of dirt and walked over to the man on the floor and the small nibblenynh that was speaking to him. He held out his hand to the man on the floor to help him up. The man took his hand and stood up before both of them moved out of the way of the wagons.



Javal then looks over to see the small nibblenynh and says, “Yes I’d be delighted to be of any assistance towards your woolful problem here”.


He walks toward the woolful that was giving the nibblenynh some trouble and says, “It seems that these woolful fellows are going to be quite the formidable foes, come on little guy let’s get moving.".


He then grabs the woolful by its fluff and lifts it into the air with his great strength placing it over its shoulder as it baa’s aggressively in response and tries to squirm out of Javal’s grip.



He then with great effort says to the small fellow, “Where do you want us to take these little guys? How many more of them do we gotta catch and send back home?”.

"Thank you, friend." He gives a nod to Javal as the purple fellblood helps him to his feet. 

"Oh, uh, I wasn't sleeping." It's hard to explain why exactly he was just out cold in the middle of the road. He rubs the back of his neck and offers the best answer he can give to the small nibblenynh. "I just...fall over sometimes." 

Actually sir, can you help me please?

"Hm?" He looks past at the woolfuls scattered across the nearby field and tromping along the side of the road. "Oh, yeah, I think I can maybe help a bit."

He blinks when Javal simply lifts the stubborn woolful up over his head. "Oh wow, that's very impressive." He's pretty sure he can't do that.

Another woolful is not that far off and seems fairly docile. He goes over and tries to get a grip on its wool with his one and only arm before trying to lift it. The creature baaaaaaaas in retort and bucks out with its hind legs, hitting him right in the shin and taking him back down to the ground. 

Yeah, no. He can't do that.

He lies on the ground for a moment before getting back up onto his feet. He scratches his head as he thinks. There has to be a way to round up all the cotton candy floofs. Oh! He does know something that might help!

"Hey, uh, I got this...spell? Yeah, it's a spell. I can make thunder which might help us spook them back to their pen if we're lucky." He looks at his two companions and offers a shrug. "Best option I have, unfortunately."

The kid stared in awe at the swordsman's show of strength, his jaw dropping behind the mask. The sudden aggressive movement irked the other woolful, prompting them to move further away from the fellblood. It takes a few seconds before Lyeth realizes he was asked a question. Looking around, he begins counting the number of woolful.
"Eight... Nine... Fifteen woolfuls!" He points back down the road from whence he came, over to a distant lodging sat upon a hill. "They all need to be there before sunset or else mister will get mad."

Noticing the sleepy man attempting to mimic the swordsman, Lyeth followed suit. Walking up to another rainbow lamb, he attempts to copy the movements Javal had made. Firmly grasping the wool, the nibblenynh yanked with all their might. The baby sheep is lifted slightly before the weight became too much for the kid. He sat the lamb back down with a huff.

The audible baa into a concerning thump, drew the kid's attention. Upon seeing the one-armed man on the floor again, Lyeth walked over and pat his back in sympathy. ¹A faint light emitted from the kid's hand as he did, a gentle warmth coating Everett. Then the man gave out an interesting plan.
"That could work... We'd need to round them up first though so the herd doesn't separate." Lyeth thought for a bit. What could gather them... Well, they were eating the sleepy man's clothes. What if... 

Lyeth pulled off one of their scarves and waved it around in the air.
"Foodies! Come get it!" A handful of woolful turned their heads to the group, about 6 of them that were still near the town somewhat. They began trotting their way over. "Uh oh-" The lamb from earlier leaned over and bit on the scarf. The kid tugged on it, trying to rip the scarf free from the clutches of a baby's mouth. "Hey! No! Thats mine! Its supposed to be bait!"

“No problem my friend”, Javal says with a smile, “As for you falling over, I can’t help but be concerned you should get that looked at by a cleric, druid, or even wizard that can’t be good”.



“Oh boy, fifteen woolfuls all scattered about, we sure are in for some hard work aren’t we”, he says avoiding a kick from the woolful in his arms.



He then places the squirming woolful down on the floor realizing it to be a lost cause these fellows needed to get brought in on their terms it would seem.



“Yes that sounds like a great idea, let's try that, especially since we have to do this before sunset”, he says looking towards the two, “Unless you have something else up your sleeve little fellow”.



Before he could say anything else he saw that the nibblenynh fellow had already thrown his scarf and called out for the woolfuls who came running in.



“Woah there looks like you bit off more than you can chew'', Javal says looking at the large group of woolfuls warming Lyeth.



He walked a few steps forward and touched Lyeth’s hand causing the young fellow to float above his would-be tramplers before grabbing his hand and pulling him behind Javal.



“Hey sleepy fellow, I think now’s a good time to get that thundering noise going because I can already see one heading over here”.

"Sure, can do. Yup. Definitely can do that." 

In truth, he's not entirely sure how he knows he can even cast spells. He's fairly certain he hasn't lied about having the capability to do so, but he hasn't in recent memory actually cast a spell. 

Still, never know until you try right? And he feels like he can do it and he explained it with such specific details so he must know what he's doing, if only instinctually. 

As Lyeth lures the woolfuls using their scarf, Everett circles around behind the herd while being careful not to spook any stragglers into becoming separated. 

He looks back at Javal and Lyeth...well, mostly just Javal as Lyeth is completely swarmed by the herd and barely visible amongst the fluff. 

Ooooh boy, okay, time to see if he can actually do this before the book nibblenynh is nibblegone. 

He takes a breath and focuses on the primordial energies hovering in the air all around him. There's a familiar connection between him and the sky domain, almost akin to reuniting with a long-forgotten friend. It's primal and comes almost naturally despite his brain being scrambled. 

The air warbles around him, a quiet growl rumbling to life around him before bursting into a shattering thunder that rolls across the sky.

Spooked by the noise and eager to seek out safety from any incoming storm, the woolfuls startle and move as a herd back towards cover. Of course, anyone in their way had better move or be trampled by the stampeding herd of cotton candy-colored sheep. 

---

[1] Thundering Boom