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Message: <blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 1285636" data-attributes="member: 1210">Attack of the Squirrels!Sandy cries out, “Those aren’t kitties!!”Even as he speaks, he’s forced to duck as a volley of stones (held in the dire squirrels’ cheeks) shoots through the air at him and Ed.  A number of other distressed halflings have started to gather, but the confusion is too great for any real organized assault on the squirrels, and who knows what they’ll do to the giggling lad up the tree?  Even if they just spook him, he could fall and break his neck!  It’s up to us, Sandy realizes grimly.  He pulls out and loads his crossbow, aims and fires- and his quarrel zings into the branch the dire squirrels and the boy are on, quivering for a moment.  He catches a glimpse of Trinia in the crowd, taking cover behind a nearby wagon, and wonders if the squirrels still have a line of fire on his friend; they are elevated several dozen feet, after all.  Yelling curses at the squirrels to try to keep them distracted, Sandy reloads with desperate speed.  Ed, meanwhile, rubs the blood from her head.  The stone that pegged her left her a little shaky, but it also left her more than a little irate.  Not only that, she’s a hero to her people; if she can’t help defeat a pair of squirrels, how long will her newfound increases status last?  Not long.  Right, then.  She looks around, and spying a nearby spear, she moves swiftly to it and picks it up.  Ed takes only a few seconds to test its balance, then throws- a perfect shot, as the spear arcs up and flies true.  There’s a sickening thud as the shaft enters one of the squirrels and pins it to the tree.  It squeals in terrible pain, its blood pumping from the wound, then, with a last wail, goes silent and limp.  The second squirrel chitters angrily at the people on the ground.  Its bushy tail snaps back and forth in rage, but then a quarrel from Sandy’s crossbow takes it in the leg.  With a squeal it tumbles forward and falls the deadly distance to the ground.  It lands with a crunch, neck broken.  The boy is crying now; it seems that he’s come to realize that the ‘kitties’ were dangerous.  Or perhaps he’s mourning them.  Or, hell, could even be he realizes what’s on tonight’s menu.  In any event, no more squirrels come out and he’s easily retrieved, leaving Ed’s fears of losing status unrealized.***Over the next few days our heroes relax, sleep and eat a lot.  The gathering bell rings every morning to draw in any surrounding halflings that might not be at the site yet; as if any halflings might be able to miss the rich tapestry of aromas that floats from the cook fires and wagons of the halfling clans gathered in one place!  Our heroes are recognized by many in the camp, and are almost universally accorded a certain extra helping of respect and courtesy.  Strangers pass their pipes to the group, and even Federico finds himself getting extra good treatment from those outside his clan.  Indeed, the Flapjacks youths have proven their worth.Ed is utterly entranced by the thought of Zenvo Dalais.  She tries to find him, and there are many signs of him; he’s very active politically with the tribes (though she neither knows nor especially cares what his political bent or ambitions might be).  However, she always seems to just miss him.  It’s a frustrating few days while she tries again and again, unsuccessfully, to track down the halfling man.  What she wouldn’t give...!Ed’s lucky break comes not when she finds Zenvo, but rather when she finds out where he’s going to be: the Featherheads are throwing a party, and he’s certain to be there.  Excited, Ed wanders through the camp for half an hour, debating how to dress, how to do her hair, whether she should bring her friends, etc.  Then she decides she’ll have a cake made.“The Bakeswells!” she exclaims to herself.  “I’ll get them to bake it- everyone knows their granny is the best baker since old Berry Cobbler herself!”  And in hurrying off towards the Bakeswells, she comes within a dozen yards of her quarry, who is actually looking for either of two of the heroes of the bell (a title that has, ironically, been given to the party by a lot of the halflings; ironic because, of course, the adventurers that had been looking for the missing children in Bellhold had styled themselves the Heroes of the Bell, which Zenvo, as a halfling well-versed in all manner of tales knows).  Let’s look in on Zenvo’s thoughts a little, shall we?  He’s actually more than a little concerned about his prospects here.  These halflings’ customs are... different, he’s thinking.  Not like others I’ve met.  Yet they seem to be almost better-off than our folk are in most places.  And Strogass’ famous taint of evil doesn’t seem to really exist- sure, it’s a harsh place, but the folk here seem largely kind and decent.  I guess the humans and dwarves are tilted more strongly to evil, and I’ve heard stories about those elves, but...  He sighs.  It’s my folk that concern me.  Is this the place for me?  Dorla held nothing, especially after Tengus started his damned camp.  I wonder if anyone there realizes just how fast it’s moving?  Heh... it doesn’t matter.  I’m here now, not there.  Zenvo scowls.  And I have no power base, no name here.  They don’t know me.  I’ll have to do a lot of proving myself here.  And it’s a very dangerous place, too.  I’m no warrior!  But... without putting myself into danger, I won’t be able to make it anywhere here.Zenvo concentrates briefly, calling to mind the stories about the great ogre slaver to the north.  That’s got to be it, he thinks glumly.  I have to rescue those halflings, slay that ogre, and demonstrate both my prowess and my ability to help my people.  And I know I can’t take Durlug on in a fair fight.  But I’ve rolled around all my options here, and it’s the best one.  And if I can get Hamstring, then I can take Durlug.  If I’m lucky, I’ll be acclaimed Sheriff after that, which may not get me to my goal, but it is a good first step.Breaking into a grin, Zenvo thinks, King of the halflings.  I like the sound of that.  And he trots over to a face he recognizes from the fete when they brought the bell back.  “Hello!” he calls.  “You’re one of the people who brought back the bell, aren’t you?  One of the druids, right?”Trinia looks at him and her breath catches.  This suave fellow has a certain... presence... that affects her greatly.*  He’s handsome, polite (well, at first, anyway), and he recognizes her!  And- by the trees, he’s hot.  Hot in a mature, confident way- yowza!  Trinia sucks in a breath (I didn’t realize I’d stopped breathing, she thinks sardonically to herself) and answers, “Yes, I’m Trinia.”“Ahh, Zenvo Dalais, at your service.”  Smoothly he takes her hand and presses his lips to it.  When he lets go of her fingers Trinia can feel the impression of his warm lips tingling.  She almost lets out a sigh.  He smiles warmly at her.  “Perhaps I could have a few moments of your precious time?”She nods wordlessly.  Trinia is honored to think that this fine specimen of halfling maleness wants to spend time with her; really, of course, she’s the hero, and he’s the one who ought to be honored by spending time with her.  This won’t occur to her for quite some time, however.“I was wondering if you could help me with something,” Zenvo says.  “I have heard stories of a terrible ogre warrior that has enslaved many of our people.  I seek to defeat him, but I know that I cannot beat him in open combat.  I need a certain weapon, and I was hoping you could help me acquire it.”"'Acquire?'" Trinia asks with a hint of amusement.“Ah, I do not speak of theft- it’s in the possession of an old druid.  I would not seek to steal from such a man!  However, he’s old- too old to bear arms himself now.  In his day, he was a mighty warrior of nature, and he laid low many a giant; but now he can no longer travel, and his mind is almost gone.  He’s senile.”  Zenvo sighs with regret and his next words are spoken very dramatically.  “Were he still capable, I would ask him to accompany me, but I fear that the journey I must undertake would kill him.  No, I must needs have that weapon for this battle, but I suspect that he would not listen to my words.  You, however, are a fellow druid...”“And you think he’ll give it to me?”“I hope he will.  It is for the good of our folk, but this will not move him; he’s not a halfling, so we must appeal to his bond of fellowship with you.”  And Zenvo smiles again, chasing all shadows from Trinia’s heart (at least for a few minutes).  “And I’m sure you can do it.  I can give you directions to his place; it may be dangerous, you may wish to bring the rest of your group with you.”Trinia nods."Perhaps we can speak more about this later?" suggests Zenvo.  “There’s a party tonight at the Featherheads....” *It’s that Charisma of 21, that’s what it is.Next Time: The party at the Featherheads!  What happens when we get Ed, Trinia and Zenvo in one place at one time??</blockquote>

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