I go to the larder and gather ingredients to break my fast with some fried salt pork, eggs, and pan bread. Then I go outside to check the firewood stores. If they're sufficient I'll fire up the forge and begin work on a Damascus Billet that I have tentative plans to make into either a skinning knife or a small hatchet. With a Hickory Handle.

[–] [email protected] 20 points 1 month ago (1 children)

The larder contains the salted pork and bread, but you keep the eggs in the refrigerator to its left. Once gathered on the table, you head outside the door and check your firewood shack; it's filled bottom to top with quarter cut firewood, of whatever varieties you could gather. You take a moment to thank your past self for gathering all this wood. The chill in the air shakes your bones, and you'll need all the heat you can get to survive the coming winter.

Wood, check, breakfast ingredients, check. You get to work on cooking up a quick meal, frying the pork and eggs on your stove; soon enough, the aroma of smoke and fresh food engulfs the entire cabin. You pat your belly; it was a filling meal, but soon after you start to wonder if you could sustain that sort of habit. Winter is coming. With winter, there's less prey, and less meat. Maybe you should start rationing more?

In any case, you push the thought of food out of mind for now, head towards the forge in the back of the cabin, and fire it up. This much should be fine, your wood stores are plentiful. There's only one problem; your trusty anvil seems to have disappeared. You're quite sure you left it sitting on the floor, right where the anvil shaped indent on the ground is, but it seems to have totally disappeared. Your plans for the billet are held back by the fact you have nothing to hammer on, which is odd because your hammer is still here. Where in the hells did your anvil go, and why just the anvil?

[–] [email protected] 2 points 1 month ago (1 children)

My anvil couldn't have walked away on its own. I think I'll check for footprints and other signs of where my Anvil could have gone.

[–] [email protected] 1 points 1 month ago (1 children)

You search the forge top to bottom, inside and outside, searching for any clues as to where it may have gone. The most obvious clue you find is a note stapled to the outside of the forge door; you're not sure how you missed it the first time around. In poor handwriting and poorer grammar, the note says "Ur avil were repossessed. mist paymont. -avil mortgage coppany."

This letter is obviously fake. For one, the premise is stupid. It's inconceivable that an anvil mortgage company would just reposses your anvil off a single missed payment; they'd send an agent or letter reminding you first. For two, you've already paid your anvil-tgage this month, at least you're pretty sure of it. Whoever left this note was making a clear attempt at delaying your search for the true culprit. You've got a sneaking suspicion who, or what, might have left this letter. After all, they've raided your supplies before. The real question is, why would they have taken the anvil of all things?

[–] [email protected] 2 points 1 month ago (1 children)

Those dastardly Squirrels! Again!

[–] [email protected] 1 points 1 month ago* (last edited 1 month ago)

The squirrels. They've been your sworn enemy ever since you moved here, always raiding your pantry and gardens, but this latest ploy is befuddling. What use would a band of squirrels have for an anvil? And when did they learn to write? And how did they even move the anvil? It's a deeply perplexing puzzle, quite a pickle you found yourself in. To be safe, you figure you ought to double check everything you own; maybe the anvil wasn't the only thing they had taken...

Food: ooooooxxxx

Water: oooooooooo

Firewood: oooooooox

Ore & minerals: ooooxxxxxx

Anvils: 0/10

Hammer: 10/10