This hall was clean once. Then the dust came. I am Bristlebeard, the Archmage, and I am too old to fight it alone. So I turned your chores into quests. Seal one and gold fills your purse. Your hero grows. The dust retreats. Take up the broom.
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Your chores hang here now. The bed. The table. The bathroom. Seal one and the board pays.
Go on. Seal one.
Nine titles wait for you. Dust Squire. Sock Wrangler. Mop Knight. The rest I keep sealed until you earn them.
Weapons, helms, companions, a dragon. Every piece has a tale. Your broom is the first. Flip it.
When the board is clean, a stranger knocks after dark. He sets three boxes on the table and says nothing.
Thirty relics sit on my shelf. No shop sells them. Two I have left within reach. Pick one up.
Choose a name and a face. Take the first quest tonight. Bring your family. The dust has had its day.
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Not a speck missed. Take a fortune and a little gold from an old wizard's purse.