Mason Farson’s Downtime: The Armlets and the Force Cannon   Day 1: The Final Touches   The quiet hum of the workshop filled the air as Mason put the finishing touches on the armlets he had worked so tirelessly to craft. The sapphires glowed faintly, pulsing with the synchronized energy he had perfected. Every rune, every engraving, and every delicate curve was aligned with care and precision.   As the final incantation settled into place, Mason sighed with satisfaction. He held up the completed pair, their polished surfaces gleaming under the warm light of the lantern. The armlets were no longer just a project; they were a tangible symbol of his bond with Amelia.   Later that evening, Mason presented the armlets to Amelia in their shared room. Her eyes widened with delight as he fastened one around her wrist.   “Now,” he said, a playful smile tugging at his lips, “you’ll always be able to reach me, no matter how far apart we are.”   Amelia pulled him into a tight embrace. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mason. I love them.”   The connection between them felt stronger than ever as Mason wore the matching armlet.   Days 2-3: Exploring the Force Cannon   The armlets complete, Mason turned his attention to the magical cannon he’d salvaged during their last adventure. The device was massive, unwieldy, and brimming with potential force energy. Mason’s artificer instincts immediately kicked in.   For two days, he studied the cannon in his workshop, dismantling and analyzing its intricate mechanisms. The core of the cannon was a force energy crystal encased in a lattice of enchanted metals, designed to amplify and project raw energy in devastating blasts.   Mason sketched diagrams, muttering to himself as he theorized ways to scale the device down without losing its potency. It was a challenge, but challenges were what Mason thrived on.   Days 4-6: Scaling Down the Cannon   By the fourth day, Mason had begun prototyping a smaller version of the cannon. He re-forged its external casing, reducing its size while maintaining the integrity of the force energy conduit. Each adjustment required meticulous testing.   The workshop rang with controlled blasts of force energy as Mason refined his design. He used his magical tools to bind the energy crystal into a smaller housing, creating a cannon that could be wielded more like a rifle than a siege weapon.   By the end of the sixth day, he held the scaled-down version in his hands. It was sleek, efficient, and powerful — a testament to his ingenuity.   Day 7: The Ambush in Frandyln   Mason’s final day of downtime began with a teleportation spell. The portal from the Haliwaki Forest shimmered as he stepped into the bustling streets of Frandyln. With Amelia resting at the manor, Mason took the opportunity to shop for supplies and admire the city’s vibrant energy.   He strolled through the markets, examining goods and chatting with merchants. The scent of fresh bread mingled with the tang of exotic spices, and the laughter of children echoed through the streets.   But as Mason moved toward a vendor selling enchanted trinkets, an uneasy feeling prickled the back of his neck. Before he could react, a figure cloaked in dark robes stepped out of an alley, the faint shimmer of magical energy surrounding him.   “Ah, Mason Farson,” the man said, his voice smooth and confident. “A moment of your time, if you will.”   Mason’s instincts screamed at him to prepare a defense, but before he could act, the mage’s fingers moved in a subtle gesture, casting Suggestion. Using his metamagic to bypass counterspells, the sorcerer infused the spell with a potency Mason had rarely seen. A flicker of light crossed the mage’s eyes as he used his Bend Luck ability, subtly warping the threads of fate to ensure Mason’s resistance faltered.   “You seem tense,” the mage said in a calm, almost soothing tone. “Why don’t you remove your armor and relax a moment?”   Mason hesitated, his mind clouded as the spell’s influence took hold. Against his better judgment, his hands moved to unclasp the straps of his armor. Piece by piece, it fell away, leaving him vulnerable.   “There, much better,” the sorcerer said with a predatory grin. “Now, sleep.”   Before Mason could respond, the mage unleashed a surge of magic, subduing him instantly. His limbs went limp, his vision darkened, and the world around him faded.   “You’ll do nicely,” the mage murmured as he stepped over Mason’s unconscious form.   The last thing Mason might have noticed, if his mind had remained conscious, was the faint glow of the armlet on his wrist, pulsing faintly in the darkness.   And thus, Mason’s fate intertwined with the unknown, his connection to Amelia the only beacon of hope in the encroaching shadow.