Clearly those six asterisks implies her name is Astrid.
Not being able to edit is KILLING ME. We’ll vote on the name when you leave the glade (spoiler: you’'ll be leaving the glade eventually)
Also I can’t believe you cracked the headache puzzle so fast, bro.
Oh, in that case…
Frank.
Or, in the advanced six-asterisk theorum, Sandra
Oh and keep suggesting things to do.
…
… … … … …
Diola
Diola is a Yoruba name that roughly translates to, “What will tomorrow bring?”
… … … … … … 
Grab a big branch, light in in the furnace.
##Set. The. Cabin. On. Fire.
Watch it burn, the leaping flames reflected in my eyes.
This is a big enough decision to put it to a vote.
Do you torch the cabin?
- Burn it to the ground
- Leave it be
0 voters
Cook and eat the root vegetables you found in the garden.
I mean, there’s something to be said about the poetry of burning down the gutted remains of your home at the start of a grand adventure. Our hero is a blank slate right now. Maybe he’s a dramatic soul at heart, maybe he just likes fire.
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You wrap the root vegetables in leaves and set them in the coals of the fire to cook. You sit by the fire, prodding it with a stick and try to collect your thoughts and try to work out what you’re going to do next.
Your cabin is destroyed, your pastoral life here is shattered, and several things are missing. You have a deep sense that you absolutely must retrieve something extremely important. But you can’t even remember what it is.
lmao bro
I’M NOT ASHAMED TO ADMIT WHEN I’VE OWNED MYSELF
Attempt to recall pastoral life before it was shattered
Adding to this, whittle a piece of wood while doing so. Don’t think about what’s being whittled, just let your hands work on their own.
You consider whittling but you don’t have anything sharp enough.
You stare deeply into the flames and wrack your brain. You see images of yourself felling trees with an ax. Hauling stones and logs and slowly building the cabin. Planting a garden full of herbs and vegetables. Dragging a cart containing a heavy iron stove and glass panes. Building furniture. You remember preparing for one… no two long winters.
But there are obvious gaps and holes. You struggle but certain things absolutely allude you, like something has torn holes in your memory. There is a definite pattern to what’s missing.
You recall again the figure that walked toward you after the cabin exploded. A shadow walking toward you with cruel intent. You remember the familiar feel of the hilt of your sword in your hands, knuckles white, sweat and blood beading on your face. But… everything blanks out after that.
And the sword isn’t here. And those memories aren’t either.
You are carrying:
Traveler's clothing (worn)
Well traveled leather boots (worn)
Belt and scabbard (worn)
Old shovel
Unadorned gold ring with the inscription "I'll always love you, ****** --C"
You are missing:
A picture, torn from its frame
Memories
Something extremely important
Your swordShit I wrote allude instead of elude and I’m out of edits this is going to kill me. The self-owns will never end.
The cruel shadow is just a personification of the abstract concept of self-owns. This is all a metaphor for marital discord. I SEE YOUR GAME
I will neither confirm nor deny these allegations.
While I’m waiting to see if we burn the cabin down or not, and I know it’s dark how about we:
Climb the highest tree and see what we can see around us.
A rather tall tree stands at the edge of the glade. You scramble up it’s boughs and peer out over the primeval forest.
Even without the moon in the sky you can see well enough under the stars. The forest stretches out in all directions for further than you can see. The nearest village is over a day’s walk away to the South and not visible from here, a fact that informed your choice of this glade. You wanted to be left to your own business. You never go there unless you absolutely have to, and cover your face when you do.
You turn your attention Northward toward the heart of the forest. It is black and calm for several moments but suddenly a bright emerald light shines into the sky through the trees and sets the entire forest to an errie glow.
You get a sense of foreboding just looking at it. You try to focus in on the light and feel a hum in your bones, a pressure on your eyes and then dizziness and nausea wash over you. You have to close your eyes and clutch tighter onto the branch you’re clinging to.
When the feeling subsides and you open your eyes again, the light is gone and the distant forest is dark.
That light was in the oldest part of the forest, several days journey away on foot.
You climb back down and return to the fire.