Chapter One

Where's Bobbit?

"Where's Bobbit?"

Arnold had just woken from his after-breakfast nap. He could smell second breakfast cooking in the other room, and his hefty stomach rumbled pleasantly in anticipation.

"Marge!" Arnold called out to his wife in the other room. "Marge, where's Bobbit?"

"He's not with you?" Marge called back over the sizzle of bacon. That was what made second breakfast so much better than the first. Heaps and heaps of bacon.

"Would I be askin' if he was?" Arnold looked around the cluttered living room, but there was no sign of the oaf. "Where is he?"

"May be he took himself for a walk!" Marge shouted as Arnold roused from his oaken rocking chair. He rubbed his tired eyes with two meaty fists.

"Did he say he was goin' for a walk?"

Arnold looked over the room one more time. He noted the eerie red glow of [The Crystal of Elmendorf], several shadowy wraiths haunting [Lyrica's Bloodwand], and a wooden tray with the remnants of first breakfast.

But no Bobbit.

"Bobbit!" Arnold shouted. He cupped his hands together. "Bobbit! Where are ya, boy?"

"He's outside, Arnie!" Marge shouted as a new smell wafted in from the other room. His stomach did a happy little somersault as he realized Marge was making her famous meat cakes.

"Second breakfast is such a treasure," Arnold whispered to himself with a wide smile.

He stroked his enormous white beard and found several large crumbs from first breakfast. He pushed the tasty morsels into his mouth.

"Outside, eh?" Arnold snorted, coughed into his hand, and waddled over to the oaken front door.

The morning sun was delightfully subdued as he stepped outside. Arnold had built their love nest inside the tallest and widest oak in the forest. The tree's enormous canopy spread its leafy arms wide overhead, ensuring a shady coolness down below.

"Bobbit!" Arnold shouted. His eyes swept over the dense forest. Several treants skittered away at the sound of his shout. "Bobbit! Second breakfast!"

Bobbit did not answer. He was nowhere to be seen.

"What a morning..." Arnold muttered grumpily to himself. He scratched his beard and found a few more crumbs to snack on. "Marge! Wifey!"

Marge's head poked out of a window carved into the massive oak. His wife's hair was a dandelion puff of white. Her cheeks were round and hearty as she scowled down at him.

"I'm cooking!"

"Where'd you say that oaf went?" Arnold asked as he looked once more around the forest.

"Ask the fay!" Marge shouted unhelpfully. Her head retreated back inside their oaken love nest.

Arnold blushed at his wife's words. He did not think the fay would help him. They were still sore he had summoned them last week when he could not find one of his socks. To be fair, he never would have found the sock without their help. Even Marge had no idea how it had ended up on that tree branch.

"A little morning adventure then," Arnold said to himself as he set off in a random direction. He would end up in the same place regardless of the direction he chose.

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Before he passed the magick barrier, however, Arnold turned around and cupped his hands together.

"Marge! I'm off to find Bobbit! Keep my second breakfast warm!"

Arnold stepped past the fay's magick barrier, and the forest rearranged itself before his eyes. Arnold's love nest disappeared, and a narrow trail appeared in front of him. Only a select few were able to find the house uninvited thanks to the barrier. It was less about protection than it was about privacy, though.

Arnold had scarcely been able to sleep in the years after he had defeated Ra-Hemi, the Devourer of Dreams. It seemed as if every orphan and widow Arnold had saved had banged on his door wanting to shake his hand and kiss his cheek.

"I missed brunch more often than I had it those days," Arnold said to himself, trembling slightly. "Lost half a stone in weight! That Irena was the worst... Gobblin' up all my cakes!"

Arnold spat and started to waddle down the narrow trail. His eyes swept over the dense forest around him, but Bobbit was still nowhere to be seen.

"Where'd he run off to, eh?"

He stroked his white beard and came to a stop in the middle of the trail. He perked up his ears and turned from left to right, right to left. His left ear twitched as it picked up a sound several kilometers away. Some kind of [Lesser Dragonbrave].

"Awfully close to the barrier," Arnold muttered as he started to waddle towards the monster's distant cry.

His cheeks reddened as he remembered just how frustrated the fay had been earlier. It was possible they were neglecting the forest's defense as some petty form of retribution. Fayfolk could be so prickly! Arnold was not worried about Bobbit, though. The lad could take down more than just a [Lesser Dragonbrave].

"Perhaps he went on a little patrol?" Arnold wondered aloud as he reached out squeeeezed the fabric of reality with his meaty fists. He was not about to walk several kilometers before brunch.

Arnold's hands tickled as he pulled the entire world closer to where he was standing. The [Lesser Dragonbrave] appeared in the blink of an eye, and Arnold took a step over the scrunched-up reality he had pulled closer.

"There we are," Arnold said as he let go of the fabric of reality. The scrunched-up forest rocketed back into place, though it did not take Arnold with it.

His hands were vibrating with a rainbow brightness, but he shook away the ethereal essence as one would water. Sensation slowly returned to his fingers, and he studied the scene in front of him.

The dragonbrave's left wing was limp and covered in blood. The diminutive wyvern did not look as if it could fly. Its scaly body was lean with hunger, and the many rows of its teeth glistened wet with saliva.

"What's this then?" Arnold muttered as he stroked his thick white beard. The dragonbrave's talons were digging into what looked like a human's armored chest. It seemed as if Arnold had stumbled upon a little battle.

The dragonbrave gnawed on the human's helmeted head. The steel must have been enchanted. The warrior's head remained firmly attached to their shoulders despite the wyvern's best efforts.

Arnold waddled over to the life-and-death struggle. The dragonbrave heard his footsteps and stopped chewing on the human's helmeted head.

"What awful breath!" Arnold pinched his nose as the wyvern turned towards him and roared. Blood and spit needled into Arnold's face.

He had not brought his hammer with him from the house, so Arnold simply drew back his meaty hand and slapped the dragonbrave across its narrow maw.

A pronounced craaack filled the forest as the wyvern's head spun around three times. The beast collapsed atop the human, instantly dead, and Arnold wiped his hand clean across his beard.

"Now, let us take a look," Arnold said as he focused two balls of magick into his hands. He reached toward the dragonbrave's head and parted the invisible barrier that housed the creature's memories.

A rush of images assaulted Arnold as he studied visions from the [Lesser Dragonbrave]. Arnold watched the creature descend on the armored human, though he was not all that interested in the fight itself.

"No sign of Bobbit," Arnold said before the dragonbrave's memories dissolved with death. "Where did that boy run off to?"

The armored human was sputtering beneath the dead weight of the wyvern. Arnold rolled the creature off the man, and they thanked him with several guttural breaths.

"This is not a good place to be," Arnold said as he studied the heaving human. The emblem on their shiny armor was unfamiliar, though it had been several decades since Arnold had left the woods. A new noble family might have popped up. He was not even sure who the King was anymore.

The human brought a shaky hand to their helmet and lifted their dented visor.

"I... I owe you... my life..." the human woman said. Her voice sounded oddly familiar. "Thank you... Thank... you..."

Arnold grunted, coughed into his hand, and snorted. It must have been after his victory over the High Demon Lord Del, but Arnold had developed a slight allergy to thanks. He had never understood why the words made his body itch.

The female knight slowly pushed herself off the ground. Her body continued to heave with exhaustion as she stared dimly at Arnold.

"You... You..." The human woman reached out with a gloved fist, and Arnold took a step back. "Who are you...?"

"Ain't no one," Arnold said at once. The last thing he needed was more widows and orphans wandering around the forest looking for him. "But I have a question for you. Have you seen, uh, hairy lad around here?"

"What...?"

"I'm lookin' for my Bobbit," Arnold said. He started to stroke his white beard. "Hairy lad. Have you seen him?"