Glory and fame, that is what one Nieven Oakenthorn seemed above all things in this world, he wanted it all for himself. Currently, he was working on that path to receive it doing the most minuscule and unbecoming things to get there. Even now he was trudging through the King’s Valley plains for that very reason, although the small task it was he was looking for a herd of woolfuls that had escaped their owner’s pen. A ruff and tumble minotaur woman had put up a poster in Sol City asking for any strong and noble adventurers to help her get her pets packed. Well, Nieven just so happened to be three of those things and decided why not if he did this it would go down in the history book as yet another great and kind deed. The woolfuls managed to escape from the farmer’s ranch and into the nearby Kingswood so he decided to head over there and rescue those poor little critters by himself.



So there he was walking along through the path looking straight into the large ahead and he continued on the trail skipping with glee to the beat of his heart singing loudly as he did so, “Tatatata I’m so beautiful, I’m so great, the world all loves me, gorgeousness is what I radiate”.

What is it with people unable to keep their livestock in their pens? Perrath bemoans yet another situation where people have been completely incapable of raising their own animals. As a fearsome dragon, he fully believes these creatures deserve to be snapped up by a predator and not… ugh, rescued by one. These fluffy, inconvenient Woolfuls should be a snack. But no, instead he’s serving a hapless minotaur because few people care to offer help to the more monstrous races.

Whatever. As long as he gets recognition for the work he’s doing, however demeaning and annoying it may be. This will help his reputation in an area he doesn’t exactly do much work in.

His finds his quiet walk in the direction the minotaur pointed him in gets interrupted by some… What is that? “Is that supposed to be singing?” he grumbles, looking around only to see a skipping elf of some sort. As if this couldn’t get any worse, the elf appears to be moving in the same direction. Lunala, no. Please don’t let this one be on the same quest.

“Hail! Elf! What brings you to the wood?” Perrath calls in a commanding but friendly tone.

---

Quest Details:

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.

“Tatatatatata”, Nieven continues singing before letting out a surprised shriek, “AHHHHH”, as he suddenly hears a loud voice call out.



He glances to his right seeing that it seems to be a dragon paladin fellow he calms down lowering his hands from his chest in defense.



He coughs a bit acting as if he didn’t let out a loud shriek of surprise only a couple of seconds ago and heads over to the man with a charming smile on his face, “Why hello there good sir, I am looking for some woolfuls, I saw a poster back in the city calling for adventurers to help look for them so I being the gracious and kind and don’t forget beautiful adventurer that I am decided to help out. After all, what type of person would I be if I just ignored the call for action, a not-excellent person I tell you? What about you? You seem like you’re up and ready to join some sort of fight with all that armor on you. Oh but where are my manners hahaha”, he gives a short bow before returning, “My name is Nieven Oakenthorn formerly of House Oakenthorn fame you probably heard of that before, now I am just a simple humble adventurer. What is your name, kind sir?”.

Great, so the elf is here to help with finding the livestock. It takes every ounce of self-control for Perrath to avoid rolling his eyes at the man’s demeanor. This kind of arrogance isn’t understandable, it’s just annoying. The dragon finds it hard not to scoff. Respect is earned, and the elf is no different. At least he has the decency to bow before his betters.

As Nieven stands upright, Perrath gives a sickly sweet but false smile. “Good to meet you,” the dragon says disingenuously. While the paladin would usually bow, he only offers a small incline of his head in return. “I am Perrath, paladin of Lunala, and I’m afraid I have never once heard of your namesake.” That will at least off put the elf just enough to get under his skin, he thinks.

“Perhaps you can be of assistance to me,” Perrath continues. “I am looking for escaped livestock. I’m sure the shepherd would be happy to have them back as soon as possible, and more eyes could make this much faster. You wouldn’t perhaps be in the area with the intention of doing some good for them, would you?”

“I know it’s a pleasure to meet me”, the elf remarks, “It is nice to meet your acquaintance Sir Petrarch, a man of the moon god I see. Ah why that is odd to hear for I am so beautiful and marvelous. However it may be understood since I come from the Crescent Isles. Perhaps you just weren’t close enough to hear about my greatness. Yes that must be it of course, well better late than never you have met me now. Prepare to go down in the history books just by meeting me, perhaps you’ll even have your own sentence”.



“You can be of assistance to me good sir. I am here to help find these little critters and intend to turn them back to their rightful owner. Let’s work together, fellow after all I’m sure with my great mind, beauty, and skill mixed with your…”, he pauses for a moment looking the other man up and down, “muscles and power can do this very quickly”.



He then walks forward, “Hmmm If I were a woolful where would I be?”, And looks into the forest ahead, “Why don’t we just go off path and walk through the forest, I’m sure we’ll have a better time finding them stuck in a bush or something”.

The ridge of thick scales above Perrath’s eye twitches as a wave of irritation washes over the dragon. This must be how he makes Xalmundo feel when he disregards the lizardfolk’s name and capabilities. (Much to Perrath’s chagrin, it does not in fact bother Xalmann more than mild annoyance.) For this haughty elf to think that he will be the one to go down in history books, that Perrath will be a footnote in his “grand tales” irks the dragon to no end.

How dare he?

For a moment, Perrath wishes the fearsome orc woman Ak’ka were here. Together they would splatter this elf out of the history books permanently.

Not before you take advantage of him, Perrath.

Adjusting his posture and composure and pretending that absolutely nothing is wrong, Perrath regretfully listens to Nieven only to find him basically regurgitating his own request back at him. Fine. At least he has the decency to throw in a compliment, backhanded or not. “Well, mister Nervan,” he starts, purposely messing up his name, “since you are so intelligent and wise beyond even my years, I will defer to you to lead this expedition to find the missing sheep.” That'll at least make him work. So he follows him into the forest, secretly plotting how he might rend this elf from the face of the planet should things escalate further.

Nieven looks back and responds, “Why do you think Sir Petrarch you know it’s so nice to meet someone with such excellent manners and modesty? After all, trust me, my friend, I've already met with some rather troublesome folk who have not been so kind or respectful towards the ever-grand and beautiful Nieven Oakenthorn. It’s good to know that we’re both on the same page now let’s continue into this woods and look for these poor innocent little woolfuls before they can get into any trouble”.



He then turns to peer at the bushes next to them and carefully takes out his lance before tearing up the bush to make way for himself and Perrath. Taking his time before clearing out the bush not wanting to get anything on his coat.

Eventually, after a minute he succeeds and stands there to the side before walking through calling out, “Alright Petrarch stay behind me take care to not stray too far because if we run into something more sinister having two heads and pairs of arms is better than just one incredible and amazing pair of arms”.



After waiting for a response the Sylvan elf walks through calling, “Hello there! Are there any woolfuls out there? Your owner’s looking for you! Come out now dears it is I, the illustrious and beautiful Nieven Oakenthorn”.

In Perrath’s opinion, Nieven is off-putting, annoying, and incredibly self-centered. Some might say he’s looking in a mirror, but Perrath can barely see past his own nose to see himself in a mirror. So, he gives the elven lord a knightly bow and allows him to take the leader. Each step taken behind the man includes thoughts of how easy it would truly be to rend him limb from limb. His sword would love the taste of young elven blood with so much lifeforce left to live being slurped up as if through a straw.

But he tempers that because, well, Nieven is at least useful. And there’s no point correcting him on his name at this point because despite the elven hears, the man proves he does not use them to actually listen. Through the woods the two of them walk, Neiven calling out for the Woolfuls in a language that Perrath presumes they must understand. He hears bleating just over the hill and when they reach it, they find that the poor creatures have fallen into a pit trap meant for a wandering deer. All six or so of them are clumped together in one lump of fluff.

“Well, Lord Nervan, please give me a wondrous display of your might by removing these poor animals from that deep, deep trap. Surely a member of high society as yourself would be able to do so,” Perrath says in the most fawning voice that he can muster. The trap is nearly ten feet deep. Let’s see him pull them out of there on his own, he thinks.

Nieven continues calling out in his native sylvan tongue towards the woods hoping the little critters would hear his beautiful voice and just run towards him. He then hears a loud animal’s cry for help and immediately rushes forth sprinting as fast as he can, even almost falling into the trap below, just barely able to stop himself from falling by digging his boots into the ground and quickly backing away.



He then shakes the dirt of his boots and stomps around cleaning them up before he does anything else.



He then takes a look downwards and lets out a whine, “Oh no look at these precious little dears poor things. How could such a thing be so irresponsible and cruel they're all just huddled up there”.



He then responds to Perrath’s response and says, “Yes Sir Petrarch you are so correct, I shall do such a thing because I NIEVEN OAKENTHORN am great and incredible”.



He then places his lance in front of him and concentrates holding both of his hands out and closes his eyes before sending magical energy into the air. Suddenly the middling and disappointing weather is quickly changed into the perfectly pleasant weather (1) the sun pops out and fills the area around them with slight warmth.





He then looks at the man and says, “Well I have tried my best my dearest friend. Do you have any ideas of what we can do? After all, what type of gracious and humble person would I be if I didn’t listen to the advice of a friend?”.

---

1. Inclement Weather

Contrary to what Nieven thought, the weather today has been pleasant. With a blanket of cloud cover, it hasn’t been too hot, and the wind has kept down. Overall, the dreary, overcast day has been perfect for a dragon used to the ashen cloud over Darkveil. So of course Nieven would ruin that, wouldn’t he? As Perrath watches the elf concentrate hard on some apparently very difficult magic, his eyebrows raise in some hope that the elf will do something worthwhile.

Why did he expect anything different?

Twisting his disdain into a sickly smile, Perrath opens his arms in a welcoming gesture (though honestly he would crush the life out of Nieven if the man stepped in for a hug). “My dear Nervanthorn, sir, obviously someone with the power to change the weather could do more to help the poor innocent livestock trapped down there!” he says regally. “‘Tis a simple task, one that should pose no obstacle for someone like you! Please, do not disappoint an old dragon by telling him that you have reached the limits of your might.”

The situation is an easy fix for Perrath. He doesn’t need Nervan Thornhead to do anything, but since the elf talked himself up so much, he’s going to make him do something of use. And if he can’t? Well, embarrassing the man would be great were he not too stuck up his own ass to ever see his own failures.

The man looks proud of himself and looks at Perrath’s smile a bit creeped out firstly mentioning, “Hey Petrarch do you mind never smiling in front of me again, please? It is not your strong suit. Perhaps you need some practice because of my gods. It looks so creepy and menacing and honestly, I don’t need that in my life even if you don’t mean it. Hey, that was just friendly advice so don’t feel offended by the way I just want to make sure my dearest friend is looking his best right?”.



He then frowns as the other man taunts him, “First off my name is not Nervanthorn it is NIEVEN OAKENTHORN, it seems you must get those ears cleaned as well, tut tut. I have done all I can in my power however considering I am more of the obvious brains of this operation I do have to ask for your muscular and sublime strength. So if you would be a dear I humbly request for you to assist me in this process. Although you are right and I am incredible, if I subject myself to the same efforts of strength in my body I’d end up like a brutish not-beautiful fellow no offense. So be a dear and help out. I shall be doing the incredibly difficult task of observing and supervising even helping up the woolfuls but I must ask for your help here friend”.

Perrath’s smile is not meant to be inviting, but to have Nieven so callously insult it makes his scaly brow twitch in annoyance. The smile is supposed to be menacing. Lunala above, help him survive this encounter. He keeps the smile on his face nevertheless, glad that it unsettles this impossibly self-centered elf.

“Perhaps you should only give your opinion when someone requests it,” Perrath says friendly as ever, his expression remaining the same but the urge to destroy strong in his mind.

Nope. That does it. After multiple instances of Perrath saying Nieven’s name wrong on purpose, the man has only just now taken notice. The dragon is fed up and does not hold back, letting the false, menacing smile fall from his face in favor of one of true irritation. “I am well aware of your name, but since you so rudely cannot call me by mine, blatantly disrespecting a dragon of all things, I have opted to return the gesture. For an elf, your ears clearly do nothing besides sit on the sides of your head and intake no information, so for you to insult me, my ability to listen, and over aggrandize yourself and your utter lack of capability in this simple situation, no, I do not think I will be recovering the woolfuls from their current predicament. In fact, I think I’d quite prefer to eat them and spit out the bones for you to return to the farmer, if I were to be honest."

Nieven scoffs at the man and says, “Why dearest Petrarch calm down there friend I’m just attempting to help you out. There’s no need to be such a rude friend after all I would like to be told if any of my great beautiful physical features had something wrong with them so I’m only trying to be courteous”.



He then reels back in surprise as Perrath lets him have it. He was under the impression that the dragon was simply shy and awkward, not noticing his anger.



“Friend my apologies I simply misheard you, you do have to speak up, introductions are the backbone of friendships. I just heard from Petrarch you have my sincerest apologies if I disrespected my dearest friend. It's Perrath is it? You have been mistaken for even if my ears are bigger does not mean I am I cannot listen well I just simply mishear things in my greatness. Calm down dear Perrath why are you being so mean there's no need to be such an aggressive jerk come on now. These woolfuls are in trouble and need our help. We cannot simply just let them be stuck there and enough of this eating nonsense. Fine if you want me to be honest with you I cannot currently help them after all, all I have is the ability to change the weather and this dear land of mine. I am humbly asking you for your help. I'm not equipped to save them on my own while you seem strong enough to do it”.

An apology might have done something to quell Perrath’s, well, wrath, but Nieven doesn’t need him to repeat his name. The snooty elf knew it all along! What Perrath already sees as a half-hearted apology means absolutely nothing to him now. Water under the bridge? Perhaps better said as water that washes away a dam.

The dragon’s jaw clicks as his teeth snap together within his maw. An aggressive jerk is putting lightly what Perrath really would like to do or say.

Finally, he speaks with a note of finality. He is finished. “No,” he says harshly. No, he will not help Nieven. No, he will not do it and share in the recognition or reward. No, he will simply not be in the presence of this man any longer. At first, Perrath thought it could be a game to test the limits of this showboater, but instead, his nerves have been frayed down to their last thread.

Then, Perrath turns on his heel and starts walking away. He might return for the bleating woolfuls, but not while this elf is around. He'd rather return on his own. Nieven will not be getting any credit for his work.

Nieven huffs his patience wearing them as he hears Perrath announce his refusal to help and walks away. He takes a deep breath, disappointed at the dragon fellow’s uncouthness and rudeness, he thought that he had met a kindred spirit. Sure he was slightly quiet, a little unnerving, and a little strange but that didn’t matter to the Sylvan elf, well it did he just wouldn’t comment about those things to his face. However, he thought Perrath was an ally with good manners and was very nice to talk to.



He waves the other man goodbye although irritated he knows it is rude to leave off without a proper farewell, “Well Sir Perrath I hope whatever finds you well after your sudden disappearance is great and fortuitous. It was nice meeting you even if you were kind of a jerk. Walk safe and be careful out there, never know when there's unsavory folk out there”, he says, not aware of Perrath’s homicidal thoughts about him, “Toodles Perrath I hope to see you again when you’re not feeling so upset and angry!”.



He then turns to the woolfuls in the pit and pouts, “Hmm, now what am I to do to get these little critters out of here? I truly am at a loss for how to proceed. I was hoping Perrath would know but I suppose he’s out of the question”.