@Remram
Adrila gathered herself up, cleaning off her face as best she could and flashing the dwarven man a soft smile. “You are right. No point in lingering in a past that cannot be changed, right?” Oh but how she wished it could be changed. She wanted to just walk right back into that forest and go right back where she belonged but she knew that if she went back into that accursed wood, she would do nothing but get lost again and find herself wandering for who knows how long! When he presented his hand to her to shake, she took it and gave her own firm handshake back. “I'm Adrila. It's a pleasure to meet you.” She then turned to face the dwarven woman, giving a slight bow at her hips before strengthening to her full height. “Thank you for your assistance,” despite how little assistance it was. The woman was the first face she had seen in quite a bit of time, at least.

She peered back at the forest one last time, as if giving it a final salute before she turned to face further into the hamlet. So she might as well make do with what she has here. If this was a place of random people coming together for some reason or another, then they would need some kind of organization at the least. That, she could surely do.

So with a deep inhale and her new found friend by her side, she stepped deeper into the townlet. Man this place really was run down. There wasn't anything left behind that wasn't something durable like stone or metal. Everything else had been eaten by the elements or swallowed up by the earth. As they made it further into the village, she peered into a few of the more stable looking homes, one of them even still having a partial roof and the items inside still being somewhat intact. She would have to come back to this building later. Perhaps there would be books, maybe even some paper and ink. It wasn't likely but one could hope!

It didn't take too long for them to hear the voices of others conversing further into the hamlet and Adrila peered back at Brom as she held a hand out to stop him. The voices were jumbled. They were obviously echoing off the walls of the buildings and being thrown every which way but she could make out at that there were a least a few people speaking. “There are people ahead.” She whispered to the dwarf, just in case he couldn't hear the voices for whatever reason. Her brain began to work and like a train picking up speed, it began to really get going. As she thought, her hand twirled by her side as her eyes flickered from Brom to the buildings ahead. It didn't sound like the voices were too far off and lay just out of sight.

Those voices could belong to a number of people. The first, and possible most likely, being wanderers such as herself and Brom. They could have been brought here by some mysterious force as well and had just discovered each other. Another possibility, they were bandits or raiders of some type that had made this old, rundown village their base and were now gathered around some type of fire or gathering point. She took a moment to sniff the air, looking for any signs of a campfire but didn't smell smoke or the scent of burnt wood. So a fire was most likely out though it was in the middle of the day and in spring. There wouldn't really be a need for any kind of campfire at this time of day. So that doesn't instantly strike out bandits, just the gathering point being a campfire.

The voices could also be possible residents of this small town. Perhaps they just let the buildings that they weren't living in go to shit while they upkept their own homes that were located more inward. If that was the case, then they would be few and they would very likely be protective of their things and possibly not want random wanderers roaming around freely in their community. She took a look around for any sign at all that people could possibly have still been living in those houses but couldn't seem to bring herself to even accept that it was a possibility. The buildings were so rundown. She couldn't imagine anyone had living in this place for quite a few years, most likely decades. Rooves were caved in on some buildings and some could barely be considered a building at all. No, no one had been living here for a long time.

So they should approach with caution. If they are wanderers, then they can assume that they're safe to interact with. If they're bandits, they can run and hide. If they're residents, well they can approach them and ask for assistance with getting home. So with a small plan in place, she stopped twirling her hand and turned to Brom. “We should probably approach with caution and see who it is. The likely odds of it being anything but other wanderers is exceedingly low but not zero. Best to be cautious.”

---

After a moment of hiding behind her book, Myrravel's natural curiosity began to win out over her embarrassment. Her ears were still pink, but there was something about the discussion of vines and water that piqued her professional interest. She looked at the supposed couple that had seen her almost take a fall and nodded to them, affirming that she was alright. Then, her attention turned to those near the well. She closed her book, carefully tucking it into her satchel and approached them.

"Um, excuse me," she said, stepping forward with a mix of scholarly confidence and social awkwardness. "I couldn't help but overhear - well, actually, I could, I was rather absorbed in my reading about Thornie the Frostbite, but..." She caught herself rambling and cleared her throat. "I'm Myrravel Velasien. Myrr, if you prefer. I'm an alchemist, and I might be able to help with the water situation."

She approached the well, her earlier embarrassment forgotten as she slipped into her element. "If we're dealing with a temporary solution, I could use water magic to help draw up what we need while repairs are being made." Her hands moved expressively as she spoke, warming to the topic. "And if we're using vines for rope, I know a few herbal treatments that could help strengthen them against wear. Though..." she peered down into the well thoughtfully, "we should probably test the water first. Leafy the Lavender always tells me to be careful with old wells - I mean," her ears pinked slightly as she caught herself giving plants names in front of strangers, but she pressed on, "it's important to check for contamination in abandoned water sources."

She stood her ground, genuinely eager to help despite her social awkwardness.

Pulling her component pouch from her side, Myrravel began rummaging through it, muttering softly to herself. "Now where did I put... oh." Her enthusiastic expression faltered as she dug deeper into the pouch. "Oh dear. I seem to have used the last of my testing supplies in that swamp near... and the Sunfruit extract is..." She looked up apologetically, her ears pinking again. "I appear to have run through most of my stores during my travels. I don't suppose there might be an herbalist's shop nearby?"

She glanced around at the abandoned buildings, then gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Right. Abandoned town. Not likely to find a fully stocked alchemy shop around here, is there?" Despite her embarrassment at being unable to help as promised, her eyes had already begun scanning the surrounding area with scholarly interest, clearly wondering what useful plants might be growing among the ruins.

Her gaze lingered on a patch of wild growth near one of the crumbling walls. "Though..." she pulled out her book again, flipping through the pages with practiced ease, "if some of these plants in my book actually exist, this kind of place would be perfect for Harty - I mean, the Heartvine. It tends to grow in abandoned places." She glanced up at the others, then back at her book. "And if we could find some Glowroot in the area, its bioluminescent properties make it excellent for testing water purity. Though we'd need to check the nearby caves for that..."

She trailed off, realizing she was falling into her old habit of thinking out loud. But her eyes continued to dart between the well, the surrounding plant life, and the distant tree line, her mind clearly racing with possibilities. "I suppose the first step would be to catalog what's actually growing around here. Can't make proper testing solutions without knowing what ingredients are available." She adjusted her satchel, already mentally preparing for a botanical survey. "And maybe while we're looking, we might find Vinnie the Sadstrand - though hopefully not, since it only grows near tragic places..." she added in a quieter voice, more to herself than the others.

Her fingers absently traced the worn cover of her book as she spoke, a gesture that seemed to be a habit when she was deep in thought. "At the very least, I should be able to tell which plants definitely shouldn't be growing near a water source. Sometimes the local flora can tell you more about water quality than any alchemical test."

Myrravel caught herself mid-ramble about flora, suddenly aware of how far she'd drifted from the immediate problem. "Oh! I'm sorry, I got carried away with plant possibilities again." She turned to the treasure hunter with renewed focus. "If you're planning to keep working on the well, I could at least use water magic to help draw up what you need for now. Even without my testing supplies, I should be able to..."

She trailed off as she noticed the new arrivals approaching the group. The sight of more people made her instinctively clutch her book a little closer, but she fought the urge to retreat back into its pages. It was strange, she thought, how many people seemed to be finding their way to this abandoned hamlet today. Perhaps there was something about this place that drew wanderers like herself.

Brom beamed as the elf returned the handshake. "Likewise, Adrila!" He released her hand and turned his attention to his fellow dwarf and gave her a polite nod. "Be seeing you around, miss." Was he actually going to see her again? Hell, if he knew. It could have just been a chance encounter, and they would never see each other again or maybe she was drawn here just like them. Well, it didn't matter. Brom just walked on side by side with his newest companion without a care in the world, even if the town was a crap sack forgotten by the ages.

There was obviously proof that there was something here, a long, long time ago though it was a remnant of what it once was. The walls were crumbling away, some buildings looked like they were only being held up by sheer force of will. Even if any of the outside of some of these buildings looked salvageable, it obviously did not mean the internal structures within the buildings were not utterly compromised by time. Brom certainly was not a carpenter, but this was going off the assumption that he was going to live here. Why else would he feel compelled to walk countless days to some place far off any known map?

Off in the distance he could hear something, voices. His eyes lit up with joy at the prospect that there were other signs of life. However, he wasn't the only one who noticed either; Adrila with a cautious whisper and squinted eyes was quick to inform him of what he already noticed. "Why are we whispering?" whispered Brom. The thought that there were any bandits out this way had not crossed his mind for one reason: there was nothing here. There were no trade routes with caravans, no towns with businesses, or even a simple farm to pillage. There was, in the words of one of his old bosses would say, absolute fuck all.

However, maybe he should have been cautious. Perhaps there could have been bandits all the way out in this abandoned place. The world may never know because as soon as Adrila went to whisper to him a second time, there was only a metaphorical dotted outline flashing in out and of existence where he once stood. The elf would watch Brom happily bounce along the dirt path with his stubby legs.

"Hello everyone! Are you all travelers? My friend here appears to have gotten lost and needs to inform her employer that she is very much alive, albeit respectfully she does need a washcloth." Brom turned back to the elf who was most likely mortified by Brom being, well, Brom. "Come on, Adrila! Don't be shy!"

People: @Remram Brom Stronghammer, @BunniesOfDoom, @Zeroth Yasunami Akitsugu, @Rune_Alchemist Yingmei Okudaira, @ERode MacKinnon, @Dragonydas Myrravel, @Lupusintus Rinn Arniman, @CitrusArms Niara Rootwick
Time of Day: Late Morning / Early Midday

---

---

The cavalcade of actions, interactions and arrivals kept on rolling. Both Daryl and Sherly looked a bit concerned when the young adventuress recoiled and stated she was used to being banged-up and covered in scraps'n bruises - probably not somehting most people would be accustomed to. Then there was the one who fell from the sky, who meandered over and offered to repair the well... OR well, rip it apart and replace it, because apparently it was just that bad that it'd be better to rebuiild than repair. Followed shortly by the book-reader, who trotted over and lay down a barrage of words and plant-factoids that would've made most people raise an eyebrow in response... But perhaps these other ladies were alright with having plants and oghma botanica thrown at them randomly...

In addition, a young man, follwed by an equally young woman - who had a deathgrip on her farming tool - soon arrived and joined the gathering mass. Alongside them, a dwarf and an veery wary elf-lady also showed up, with the former being far more friendly and forward than the latter. The dwarf got a friendly and loud greeting from Daryl, who was happy to see someone so willing to socialize, and the two shook hands in the most bro-mantic fashion you can imagine, big manly smiles and confident eyes and all that jazz. You know the deal. Last but not least however, was the arrival of a wagon pulled by a sour-faced donkey, and its three occupants. An elderly gnetleman, a tiny girl and a foppish vagrant who looked like the kind of guy you just wanted to punch in the face or break a lute over his head... For no particular reason....

The only member of the freshly arrived folks who did not join the others at the heart of the abandoned town was the odd dwarven woman, the one in a long coat and who wore a pair of horns on her head. She was nowhere to be seen... Perhaps she'd gone off to explore more buildings like she had been earlier? Or perhaps she'd moved on to somewhere else entirely? Only time would tell.

For now, the eyes and ears of all fell on the center of the village, where everyone had gathered, finally.

"Well... I sure didn't see this coming."
"Hah! More people just means I was right all along."
"... How exactly does that logic check out, oh husband-of-mine?"
"Weren't you worried that we'd be all on our own out here. But, just look! We've got a whole heap of neighbours already."
"And you just take for granted that they're all going to stay in this... Town... And help you patch all the buildings up, hm?"
"Of course! Why else would they come all the way out here, eh? Now, let's get started!"

Sheryl sighed as her rowdy husband laughed in a boisterous manner, then quickly proceeded to their cart and began to heave barrels and boxes and crates and sacks off of it, walking over to house across the street, the one made of stone, that was empty of furnishings. It seemed that, for now at least, the big lug was going to use it for storage. Sheryl turned her head to the others, speaking with a slightly raised voice so they all could hear her.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm gonna get to work. Since it looks like me and my hubsband will be stayting, I'll get to making some blankets for everyone. After all, the only things we found to sleep on so far are the cots in that place." She pointed a finger towards the longhouse - the only structure with any sort of still-remaining furniture. Well, unless you count broken down or in-need-of-dire-maintenance stuff elsewhere, of course. Done annoucning her intent, Sheryl began to help her hubby, carrying smaller things over to the 'warehouse', before plopping down on a small wooden stool they'd brough and getting to work with needle, thread and scissors.

"Grampy, we're here!"
"That we are."
"Can eat now?"
"That we can."

Rising from his seat at the front, Victor climbed on back over and into his own cart, joining Wilma. There, he rummaged through a sack before producing first a big loaf of fresh-looking bread, before sliding the lid off a nearby box and plucking up several small jars. He also withdrew a flat, dull-looking butterknife.

"So, what'll it be?"
"Straw-brary!"
"Haha, I thought so. Here you go, don't drop it, okay?"

He handed a red-painted jar to the little girl, who quickly twisted the lid off and snatched the knife from her grandfather. Then, with a vigorous scoop, she withdrew some red, ooey-gooey jam from within and spread it across the bread. Once a sutiable amount of sugary goodness had been smeared, the little hooligan dug in, like a voracious and starved beast, chowing down like there was no tomorrow. Victor, on the other hand, had a much more measured approach and was far more refined and elegant in both movements and behavior. He apparently chose some kind of orange-colored jam to put on his bread, and ate it slowly and composed, all while looking around at the other faces and the town as a whole.

"Hmm... That woman said they only found furnishings in that big wooden building, huh?" He mused. "Might wanna go check around, just to be sure." He said, while chewing.
"Don't wnana stay with everyone?" The little girl perked her head up, jam on either cheek.
"No, no, that's not it, dear. I just wanna make sure there's nothing or nowhere else to go."
"Pretty lady said she'd make blankies!"
"That she did. But we already have our own, remember?"
"B-But, she make us new ones!"
"Wilma... You shouldn't take things you don't need, remember?"
"Mmmm, boo... Fine...." She sulked while nibbiling at her bread, then turned her head and perked up again. "G-grampy! Look! Elfses! So many! So many elfses!"
"Huh, yuu're right... There are a lot them here."
"Waa-ooow...! They... They're so pretty!"
"Hah, you're right. They're all quite lovely. Don't you think so, boy?" The old man smirked, and gave the bard a playful nudgwith his elbow.
"Bird-man got no chance."

VBictor laughed heartily at the comment.

"Anyway, if you want a bite to eat, there's some more bread in the bag there. Once we're done eating, me and Wilma are gonna take a look around the place." It seemed Victor was generous. Or, he was trying to smooth over his grandchild's rudeness with the bribe of food. He also didn't seem concerned at all about the possibility of this strange, unfamiliar young man just taking control of his wagon and stealing it and his donkey away after he left... Was he too trusting? Or perhaps there was a reason for his lack of caution. In any way, the old man and his small ward finished eating, climbed out of their cart, held hands and then began to leisurely stroll about the empty paths and buildings.

Now the rest were left to their own devices. What would they do? Would the trio of females fix the well? Would they explore the village and its remaining houses? Would they offer to help Daryl or SHeryl with their unloading and work? Would they strike out on their own and do whatever they wanted or thought was best? The possibilities were infinite, but the choiice was ultimately their own.

//Central Village
_{@Xaltwind@Dragonydas@CitrusArms}
Eh, they had to tear the whole thing down and rebuild it from scratch? MacKinnon shared the doubtful look that Daryl and Sheryl had, but what did she know about fancy matters such as well construction? Honestly, she figured that just patching up the bucket and getting new rope would solve the issue, because hey, did you really need that pulley?

Niara made it sound like they needed all the new things, and she sounded smart enough to know what she was doing too though, so the green-eyed treasure hunter was happy to take a step back and let her figure out the specifics…at least until the book-loving Myrr stepped in and dumped an autumn’s worth of words at all of them. It went in one ear and out the other, MacKinnon simply planting a nice, but entirely empty smile the entire time. Alchemist? Glowroot? Heartvine? Sadstrand? Testing?

Huh, water could be dangerous?

She locked eyes with the green-eyed, blonde-haired, long-eared individual, then licked the back of her forearm, where some well-water remained. It tasted a bit salty, but that was more due to herself than anything else.

“Water seems good to me!”

And really, if you couldn’t even trust water to be drinkable, you may as well just die, because it’s a clear sign that the world hates you. With that case closed, and with a whole host of other travellers bouncing in, MacKinnon wondered if she ought to make yet another bold declaration of her esteemed self and her entirely legitimate profession, before shrugging it all away. She could puzzle out the rest of their names later. Right now, what she was looking at was a whole buncha unopened ‘treasure chests’, and the need to find every usable thing to make a happy home life enjoyable.

Stepping up to Niara, MacKinnon jabbed a thumb against her chest in a sign of true confidence. “Leave the materials-finding to me! You can just worry about the rope-thingy, Ni-Ni!” With a dramatic turn on her heel, she tossed her compass into the air, kicked it up even higher, watched it drop in the distance somewhere, and then followed after to retrieve it.

Certainly, it was a unique way of deciding where to begin one's looting of the abandoned village, but on the other hand...

Exactly ten minutes later, MacKinnon's voice could be heard, carried by the wind and her own volume.

"Rahahahaha! Clay pot, GET!"