Anticlimactic

Fred was no fool, you absolutely cannot trust a dragon. But this was clearly some kind of dragon mage and if he couldn't even manage to draw his sword he wasn't going to defeat the dragon in battle. Not today. Not without more preparation. So, accepting the dragon's mission was the best way forward. And he could just check out the item. He didn't necessarily need to bring it to the dragon, that would be stupid!

After being dropped off, he easily located the hut. A man was sitting in front of the hut, in the grass, motionless, with something in his hand. As Fred approached cautiously he could see that the item was a small carving of a bird, purplish-black in color. As Fred got closer, he could see that Fiwzen Mevar was dead or catatonic. His eyes were open, bulging, and bloodshot. His hands, where they cradled the small bird, had their veins clearly visible under the skin.

Pausing several feet from the man, Fred attempted communication. "Ho there, sir," he said in a friendly voice. There was no response. From the look of things, there would never be a response again. Suddenly, the gloves the dragon had provided seemed a very good idea.

As Fred pulled out the gloves, the little bird figurine suddenly lit up from within.

1. Fred decides that this is getting too crazy and leaves as quickly as possible.
2. Fred puts on the gloves and goes to grab the bird carving as gently as possible.
3. Before Fred can put on the gloves, the carving pulses with light and Fred finds himself flung backwards. He feels a sharp pain in his head, and falls unconscious.
4. At that exact moment...

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