Just Another Day

"Merlin! Hey, Merlin! Get your ass over here!" an archeologist named Dave calls to you from across the worksite.

Dave hired you to do lighting for the archeological uncovering of the home of Merlin the Magician, but you are pretty sure he only hired you because your name matches that of the previous homeowner. Since you first started he has been complaining about everything you do. 

"Good morning mate," you respond turning to face the short, balding man wearing a scowl. "Something I can help with?"

"Yeah, there is actually. You know how I told you to keep things lit and not leave anything laying around?"

"Sure, I have been doing a bloody good job of that over here too."

"Oh, well, that's good because on the other side of the worksite you are doing the opposite of what I asked you to do."

"Over there? You mean the corner of the site no one is working in?"

"Yes, that would be the one."

"Dave, I haven't been over there yet; that's why it's dark!"

"You haven't been over there?"

"No, not yet. I am only lighting this area, running the wires above the site, and cleaning up all of my tools as I go, just like you asked."

"And all of your tools and wires are labeled, right?"

"Yeah, every one of them," you say, pulling a spool of wire out of your pocket. You show Dave a label across the back that reads 'Merlin Ambrosius'.

A devilish smile spreads across Dave's face. He holds out his hand to reveal a battered, rusty spool with a matching label on the back and asks, "What does this say, Merlin?"

"That is not mine, Dave."

"It has your name on it!"

"It also looks like it has been here for a thousand years! If this is your idea of a joke, it isn't funny."

Dave looks like he is about to explode with anger when another archeologist runs up to him. The two of them whisper back and forth a few times; Dave seems to get angrier with every word either of them utter. Eventually, the second man hands something to Dave and runs off. Dave looks at the object given to him and scowls.

"Come here, Merlin," he demands, without looking at you.

You take a few steps forward and look at what he is holding: in his hands are a pair of rusty pliers with a label that reads 'Merlin Ambrosius'. Your jaw drops and you stammer, "I...I don't know where those came from; they can't be mine."

"I don't care about your excuses, just go over there and make sure we don't find anything else that belongs to you!"

With that, he storms off and blends in with the dozens of archeologists digging through the Paimpont Forest floor in the dimming sunlight. The floodlights are already on so that they can see anything unearthed under the dense canopy. Nothing too exciting has been unearthed, but a cottage in the Broceliande--the legendary enchanted forest near Camelot--has to belong to the famous Merlin the Magician, according to these experts.

Grumbling to yourself, you carefully make your way across the large zone marked with wooden stakes. When it gets too dark to continue, you pull a flashlight from your bag and charge it with the attached hand-generator; traditional battery-powered flashlights have a bad habit of dying on you when you need them most. Light illuminates the forest floor once you're done cranking and you continue to the far end of the worksite.

In the back corner, along the edge of a large clearing, you find a shallow hole with more of your tools in it. Each one is rusty and broken, but the label with your name is visible. You pull out several items that look like broken replicas of the tools you currently are carrying: a stun gun, several rechargeable batteries, pliers, insulated and non-insulated wire, and even a hand charged flashlight are recovered from the hole, amidst a few other tools and supplies. Removing them reveals a taut wire in the bottom of the hole that looks like it is connected to something.

You grab the wire since it couldn't possibly be connected to a power source in the middle of the forest. Dave requires you to hang wires on stands or low tree branches to not contaminate the worksite so none were buried by you. Sparks fly when your hand touches the loose wire and electricity flows through your entire body, making it feel numb. After the shock, you pass out facedown in the dirt.