@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!"

---

---

The elf with the book clutched it a little closer upon looking towards Akitsugu and Yingmei. Though the man and woman who presumably owned that wagon had faces of shifting surprise and concern, before they could speak another pair of newcomers arrived. A third elf, no less, though this one seemed much more regal in appearance...or, at least, she would have, if she didn't also look like she'd lost a fight with a briarpatch. The man standing next to her, however, caused Akitsugu's eyes to widen momentarily. A short, stocky build, a thick and full beard, and browned, earthy features--this was a dwarf! He had met a few of them since crossing the borders of his country, for he always sought work wherever he passed through in the local smithies. A sinking feeling seized his heart---what if this fellow was also a blacksmith? Unless the dwarf wanted an apprentice, Akitsugu would have a hard time convincing any of these people that his services were worthwhile. He had planned to trade a few favors of labor for food and supplies---he could sharpen all manner of blades easily enough, and polish or do maintainence on tools even without a working forge. But if a "proper" dwarven smith was around, would any of them pay him any heed whatsoever?

The dwarf and this next elf hailed the growing crowd as well. Just as the blacksmith had come to expect, it seemed everyone here was a wanderer...so, had each and every one of them been called here by the same supernatural force he'd experienced? Had they all heard the ringing of hammers, or...something else?

The man and woman bickered momentarily, before they began unloading their wagon. For the first time Akitsugu took stock of the stone longhouse nearby. It was in much better shape than the wooden buildings, and given its central location it had probably served as some form of feast hall or maybe a governing office of sorts. But when the woman addressed the gathered travelers, her voice carried that motherly "do not question me if you want supper" vibe and rang clear over the numerous heads around her.

"Ah, um...Many thanks, madam!" the redheaded man bowed deeper than he had when speaking to Yingmei, being sufficiently drawn in by the woman's authoritative tone. Another cart had arrived at some point, and as Akitsugu looked around he noted that the older man was feeding the young girl with what smelled like bread and preserved fruit. He and the child chatted happily, so one would assume they were family---grandfather, most likely. But the other young man with them looked too young to be the girl's father... Well, unless he'd gotten himself in over his head quite early in life. An older brother?

Akitsugu waved one hand in an attempt to get people's attention, then nervously cleared his throat.

"U-um, excuse me, but---"

The girl with the pickaxe declared, quite boldly, that she would find all the "materials" that one of the elven girls apparently needed. Then she punted her compass into the distance and charged off after it. Akitsugu's face drooped somewhat in confusion, before he tried clearing his throat again, more loudly this time.

"Eto, excuse me, everyone!" He now held up both hands, for as much attention as he could garner. "If the um, kind sir and lady are providing cots and blankets for those who wish to camp here, I, uh, think I shall gather firewood! There is a forest to our east, if I remember my path here correctly!" He pointed in the indicated direction. "We will need warmth and fuel for cooking, after all...and, speaking of meals, perhaps we could find something edible or game to hunt?" He turned to look at Yingmei, then back at the others. "Would anyone like to join me?"

The first rule of any plans you may make, is to accept that it will never work out how you planned. That is why you have multiple backup plans. You try and cover for anything that could happen. However, what Adrila did not account for, was the dwarven man not having a lick of self preservation. He didn't even give her a moment to fill him in on the plans and ideas before he shuffled off. When she noticed that he wasn't there anymore, her head snapped in the direction of the voices to see the man heading in that direction. Adrila threw her arms out in front of her, the shock of it all keeping her voice locked in her throat. A few panicked and flailing squeaks left her lips as she pulled her hands back to clasp the sides of her head. No, no, no. How? How did he just ruin every little idea she had? Just that easily. Everything was falling to pieces around her.

She looked around herself as if there would be some sign telling her what to do. She whirled on her heels, frantically trying to grasp any loose ends of her plans as her mind spun off into lala land in a matter of moments. She could image the man stepping out into the area, an arrow embedding itself into his chest the moment he appeared. They didn't know who was over there!

She paced a moment, watching him disappear around the corner. What does she do? What does she do? Then came the dwarf's voice, added to the chorus of others that seemed to hush for a moment as he made his appearance. She pulled on her hair as she let out a loud groan that reverberated off the walls of the building around her before she dropped her head and rushed around the corner to catch up with the dwarf. It was stupid, so incredibly stupid. If he found himself in trouble, than she was just barreling directly into that trouble as well but she couldn't rightfully leave him to his fate! She needed to get in there and help him if she could.

Her long legs took her around the corner quickly and she had to stop suddenly as she came face to back with Brom. She stood there, frozen for a moment as he mind tried to take in what she could see. It was a bunch of kids or young adults, probably no older than Brom, gathered together around a well. There were a few older people but the majority of the group were, well kids. She looked from one face to the other. There were other elves and a few humans. They seemed to be trying to gather themselves together to fix the well. The thoughts of the previously destroyed plans were thrust from her mind when she realized that she could be quite useful in this endeavor. She stepped forward, passing Brom and stepping up into the well. She slowly circled it a moment and started to make mental notes of the things they would need to fix it up to pristine working condition. She was just about to pick up the bucket and examine it when the older couple began to speak loudly. Adrila peered over at them and watched as the man began to heave heavy barrels and crates from out of their cart. They seemed to be well stocked, which was a wonderful sign. If the group were going to be living and work together, at least someone had some supplies. There could be trading or exchanges made.

She pulled her satchel off from her side and began to dig through it before pulling out a roll of paper, grabbing out a charcoal pencil and beginning to make a list of the material they would need if they were going to set up camp here. Before she could finish her list, one of the human girls spoke up while pointing at her chest with her thumb. Adrila watched the girl whirl on her heels and sprint off into the distance. She raised a finger and was about to call out after her before she just shook her head and turned back to the list. She wondered if the girl knew what she needed or if she was just going off to search through the houses with hope to find anything at all. And judging by how aggressively she punted her poor compass, Adrial hoped the girl wouldn't wander off too far or else she may find herself getting lost. They truly didn't need to be making a rescue party for the girl. She could only hope she would be fine.

A human boy spoke up next and Adrila peered up from her parchment to listen as he explained that he was going out to get firewood from the forest. She couldn't help but shiver at the thought of that forest before she glanced down at the list in her hands. She read down her items, moving into the shelter category and checking off firewood. The other categories in her list were food and water. Each item had smaller items listed under them; firewood, blankets, and beds being just a few under shelter while she marked the well under water. She wasn't sure what they could do for food until the older gentleman with the small child began to pull items out of the cart as well. She spotted bread and put a check next to the food category, at least for the time being. She wasn't sure how much food the older man had or if he was willing to share it all with the people gathered about. So she was sure to put a question mark just after the check. She would look into that more in a moment.

“I would suggest you take a compass with you if you intend to go into the woods. It can be quite confusing at times and if the mischievous spirits that took my map decide to force you to lose your way, the compass will point you back in the right direction.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her compass. She presented it to the boy before going back to her list. “If we are to all use the campfire, then I would recommend large thick branches that will burn for longer.” She wrote another item on her list as she spoke, her mind easily running in multiple directions. “Also, find something dry. If you pull from a tree, it'll be too wet to burn.” And with that, she left the boy to his own devices before stepping up to the purple haired elf next to the well.

“I can't imagine we will find perfectly shaped lumber. Do we happen to know of anyone who can split wood properly to help craft the well?”

@Zeroth@BunniesOfDoom@Xaltwind

Not that it ever crossed Brom's mind but thank the gods above that these were amicable travelers and not blood thirsty barbarians. What he was greeted with was the strange cavalcade of people from various different walks of life though the first of the group to reach out to him was this quite well-built man with an excited grin and held out his hand.

"Hah! Glad to meet a friendly face! The name's Brom, I hope we along! Nice beard by the way!" Brom extended his hand to greet the human's handshake and matched his firm grip, arm muscles rippled in an overly dramatic wave of masculinity with big, bearded grins. One they finished exchanging greetings, Brom's attention was turned to the sound a wagon creaking forward and found himself staring at a sour looking ass. A donkey, not the other kind. All three of the occupants looked like they were made of money, or at least the elderly gentleman and the little girl. The young man looked like he may have sired children in different villages before he ended up here, but Brom was not one to judge by appearances.

The only one that Brom had not seen yet was the dwarven woman. Maybe she really was just passing through to wherever she was planning to go or still had some business to attend to before coming to the encampment. It was not like he had much time to think about her; everyone seemed ready to get to business, or having lunch. The little girl on the cart had a large smattering of strawberry jam on white bread while the older gentleman ate orange marmalade. The sight of this food caused a flash of concern to go across Brom's face.

That's all they could find? Brom looked around the crowd and started to mentally count the amount of people that were there. He counted in his head the amount of people, including himself and even accounted for the female dwarf. Thirteen people in total with maybe more on the way if there were others that were compelled just as they were.

This was bad, really bad.

However, he caught the smell of something coming from downwind. It prickled his nose with a faint, yet sharp brininess. Salt? Are we near a beach? The cogs in his head began to turn. Perhaps things weren't going to be so dire after all, but there were other priorities that they needed to meet immediately first.

A red-headed boy called out to anyone that would listen. For now, it was best to get to know everyone and figure out what skills they had to offer. Brom raised his hand to catch the boy's attention. "I'll come with you. I'll forage along the way to get a better idea of what we've got to work with going forward."

He looked up at Adrila who seemed very keen at bossing people around. Was that what she did for a living? "I think most of us can split some logs, but I doubt we realistically have the tools to cut down a tree just yet." He sure as hell wasn't carrying around a saw or an axe. Also, he was pretty sure that the donkey would spit at them before it would allow them to use it to help hull lumber over.

“Ooh, but I’m probably just being pessimistic. Rightly, I should really take it apart, first.” She twisted her body to look as she heard a voice call out. A male human, asking about supplies. Was he really wondering if someone actively lived here, though? ”Well met! We were just going to fix up this old well, in fact. I’m afraid it’d fall apart under more strain, but I, ah, don’t usually encounter wells.”

The technician supposed it was entirely possible several components of the well simply needed tightening, but she knew how exposure to the elements and the passage of time could affect things. Things eroded, things corroded, weakened, especially without proper care or even use. She wouldn’t hold her breath. She grabbed the crank and tried it once or twice, feeling how it was holding together. Oooh, it’s so loose.

”Guess I should set down, if I’m going to be working here.” Elven hands began undoing several knots on her person before chunks of her kit fell to the ground. She had gardening tools, like a trowel and some kinda claw thing, but also various carpentry and repair tools. She located, among her things, a small tarp and spread it out. She put tools she would not be using at each corner of the tarp, to keep it from blowing away, before starting to take the well mechanism apart for inspection.

The married couple was certainly having a time of this. The husband was over the moon about all these people showing up, and the wife was dubious. A classic combination. A brief thought of an alternate outcome to things flashed through her mind, but she shook her head free of it. The husband had been drawn here, just as she herself had, was it? Very interesting.

Another elf drew her attention as she spoke. This one was into plants, but it didn’t seem like she was a root elf, like herself. She had plenty to say, so Niara was content to work on the contraption in front of her as she said her piece. Hearty and Vinnie, huh?

“This is an abandoned place, after all. I would expect Sadstrand. We can always be pleasantly surprised, after all.” Niara sat herself up on the edge of the well as she continued to disassemble the mechanism, being very, very careful not to drop anything. It was like maintenance on the underside of the islands. Don’t fall, don’t drop anything. She straddled the support post of the well cover and worked with her sternum pressed against the wood. “Water magic is fine and all, but I don’t think you want to be a living well, do you? You’d have to be here, whenever someone wanted to draw water. That simply won’t do. If you can find me a seed of a good, fibrous vine, I can do something with that. Just the seed, deary.”

The male human called about firewood, and mentioned food. Yes, that would be a good idea, too. ”While you’re at it, dear Myrravel, fruit and veggie seeds, too.” She looked up at a voice from the distance, looking in its direction before smirking and going back to her diligence, “heh, found something good, did she. Clay pot..? Yes, I think we’ll need to replace this rope.” She did, however, spare a glance around. There were a lot of people showing up.. They’d really need this well in good order, huh? Someone had mentioned forgoing the crank system, but it was rather nice, to just spin a crank and pull it up.

@Zeroth@CitrusArms@Remram@BunniesOfDoom@ERode@Xaltwind

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Yingmei followed quietly along behind Akitsugu, unsure if she should speak. Should she make small talk? Say where she came from? Ask where he came from? They seemed dressed in similar manner, to be sure, and his name was as well. Was it bad to think they may have been from the same general region just because of those small similarities? Her thoughts soon would be drawn to the others, as they approached the square. She had seen many people on her travels. Elves, Dwarfs, all manner of humans so she wasn't too surprised to see such an eclectic group. More than anything, she was glad. She'd stand out less.

"Haeh?" She'd let out a little startled noise as the blacksmith glanced back towards her. Did she need to say something? Was she about to be thrust into introductions with everyone here? She didn't actually explain what she was doing here, did she? How should she introduce herself? Farmer? Former Priestess? One who was cursed by the gods to trip over flat ground when most inconvenient? It was a good thing others continued the conversation while she continued to use Akitsugu as a tactical social anxiety shield. If nothing else, it let her get her thoughts in order as she'd flip flop between listening to the others and not letting her own thoughts get away from her.

Most notably, she was interested in what that Bookish elf was talking about. Yingmei's eyes lingered on Myrr, a little curious. Her job at least was tangentially related to plants, right? Knowing plants and what would be edible and good for cultivating was definitely somewhat adjacent to what she was talking about right? Right. She could do this, work up the courage to say something -

"U-uhm! I'm a far-"

She was interrupted by a rather loud fellow speaking up not long after. Oh. That was fine. She took a few deep breaths. She could just let him finish and speak up after! No problem at all. She didn't really understand what he was talking about, but he was loud and excitable. She wished she had a sliver of his seeming confidence, as hers was only wavering the more people started talking and speaking among themselves. She felt like a rice plant that was getting blown away during a typhoon with how many people were talking.

Thankfully, it seemed she was just about to be given a small chance to finally introduce herself. She'd step forward, finally from out of behind Akitsugu. She was gripping the farming implement hard again.

"H-hello! Erm, Yingmei. That's me. Yingmei, I mean that's my name yes!" She'd manage to finally speak up after Niara. "I-If its fruits and veggies and cultivating things, w-well...I'm a farmer...kind of...I mean I am. N-never mind...ok...deep breaths Yingmei..." She'd take a few seconds to inhale, and then exhale. "Sorry...I'm...not really good at talking or b-being in large groups like this. B-but uhm! I have some seeds with me...a good portion of Rice, Potato, Wheat, and some Camellia seeds I could make into tea. If I can find a good plot of land I could get started soon. I think the land to the south looked fairly fertile." She paused for a few moments, seemingly done speaking before . "A-ah! I-if someone wants to come with me...or h-help me take a look around I wouldn't mind."

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Rinn gimmaced again at the brat's 'bird-man' comment, one eye twitching as she turned her jam-stained cheeks toward him and presented her bright red tongue. He stuck his right back at her, hands grabbing the side of his face to make the most childlike insulting face he could muster to which she responded ten-fold. They went back and forth like this for several moments as the old man talked, completely oblivious to the psychological war going on behind his back. The bard was seriously considering giving her a lesson in not-so-nice language when he turned back and presented the bag.

"O-oh!" Rinn muttered, slightly confused but the pain in his stomach silenced any further questions. He took the sack hesitantly, almost as if expecting some sort of trick, but the man just kept on with his friendly old-man smile. "Thank... you." A hand reached in and came back with a loaf of sourdough, still soft as if it had come out of the oven only that morning. Rinn's eyes sparkled as he marveled at it, delighted at the way the bread pulled apart in his fingers. The taste brought a tear to his eye as he swallowed his first bite before devouring the rest like a starving wolf at a fresh kill.

"Good sir!" He shouted, getting to his feet so quickly it caused Wilma to squeek in shock. "You have saved my life this day! I vow to repay your kindness ten- no a HUNDRED fold in the days to come!" The wide-brimmed hat came down and he bowed low before straightening with a hand held aloft as if commanding an army of ten-thousand knights despite the crumbs still speckling his cheeks. "A HUNDRED FOLD!"

"He broken, grampy..." Wilma said in a poor attempt at a whisper.

With a belly full of bread, Rinn let the girl's comment slide as he drew the vielle from his back, one wrist flicking the bow from its leather holster and drawing a soft note across the 4 strings. His topaz eyes looked over the other folks still present in the square. "My name is Rinn Arniman and I hope to serve you fine people the most extraordinary entertainment in this beautifu- this charming- this-..." The words faltered as he shifted his gaze to the surrounding dilapidated buildings just as some rotted beam finally gave up the ghost and a portion of nearby roof collapsed inward with a crash. "this village."

Rinn's fine boots clicked as he stepped across the wagon bed, the bow of the vielle moving in time as the squat, wooden instrument . The notes were clear and pure, cutting through the air like a warm knife through butter. He stepped down gracefully, without breaking his stride and as he settled on the dirt the sound reached a peak and hung with heart-stopping anticipation. His eyes sparkled as he felt the tension pull his own heart strings. The bow began to dance, calling forth a tune remeniscent of spring, of love, of unwavering hope in a brighter future. Anyone who listened might find their weariness lifted, if just a little, and their steps a bit lighter. Rinn's entire body moved with the music as if the notes themselves came from his very bones and for a brief moment his eyes closed as he lost himself completely in the sound echoing through the old village.

It was only a moment as he drifted across the square, deftly skirting the elf woman and her collection of tools as well as the crumbling well where she worked, but then Rinn's bright eyes found a petite golden-haired elf just off to the side, her delicate hands clutching the worn bindings of a much-loved book, and his course shifted. The vielle continued to sing, though the volume softened considerably as he sidled up beside her. "The beauty of the elves is like the finest painting of a master." Rinn's tenor voice purred as he tipped his head politely though his eyes never left hers. "Truly you are the inspiration for many a fine song and poem, my lady. Might a humble bard know your name?"