@Zeroth Yasunami Akitsugu, @Dragonydas Myrravel Velasien, @Remram Brom Stronghammer

It appeared, for the time being, that the foreign blacksmith from the far east, had managed to cut and chop and carve up several pieces of lumber from fallen logs. However, the man would find it difficult to locate anymore of these convenient sources of sizeable, dry and suitable pieces of lumber around - at least in this particular section of the woodlands. There might be more fallen logs, yes, but most of them were either ones that had started decomposing, become overgrown with other vegetation, or claimed by various forest insects as nests and hives. Thus, only things like loose sticks and branches would likely be around on the ground in the vicinity at this point.

As the red-haired man returned to converse with his companions about their immediate future and next steps, there was a rustle in some nearby, convenient shrubs. A tense moment followed as the leaves quivered and shifted from the presence of something within the foliage being astir...

... And then...!

... A slime sloshed out. Yup. A slime. A green one. Flabby and gelatinous. Semi-transparent. About the size of your average little dog, like a dachshund or jack russel. The sluggish creature seemed to have been attracted by something, and was now making a very slow, gooey approach towards the trio had gathered around the firewood that the metalworker had so painstakingly spent a lot of time gathering and preparing.

... Was... Was it attracted to the firewood!? Was it planning to eat the firewood?! ... Or maybe it was just drawn in by the sounds of three large, clothed monkeys who didn't know better than to keep their voices down in a forest full of monsters. In any case, the small ball of goop was headed straight for them!


@ERode MacKinnon, @Lupusintus Rinn Arniman, @BunniesOfDoom Adrila Jaaxa,

The married couple continued to converse and talk amongst themselves. Eventually devolving into the large man letting out a happy laugh, grabbing his wife's waist and lifting her up into the air, afterwhich he did a twirl with the woman still in his arms and in the air - causing her to let outa horrified shriek, followed by a brief moment of mirthful laughter, before she began to bonk her husband on the head, telling him to put her down. The man just grinned and happiyl accepted the loving bats to his rather wooden noggin', perfectly content with letting his rather-noticeably shorter-than-himself wife squirm a bit.

So lost in their own little world was the pair that they didn't even notice when the girl from earlier came running by and delivered a quick, unclear message... Nor did the ynote when the bard stood and hurried after the new and shiny female who had just appeared. But, at the very least they were staying in one place, so if the beaurocrat elf decided to drop by and take up Sheryl's offer to help go over and test, measure and try the new blankets, she'd at least have no trouble finding them.

Meanwhile, as the spirited girl with her pickaxe, and bard, in tow rushed over to the east of the town, she found the following revelation:

The eastern part of this old settlement was a lot less populated. There were fewer buildings here than in any of the other areas she'd gone to. In addition, the buildings here looked a little larger in general... Was this perhaps the wealthy part of town? Or, perhaps it was an industrial zone and this is where all the various artisans and crafters hung out and lived? It'd make sense for people who had to use lots of tools and make goods to need larger space. But then again, it made just as much sense that people with more money than sense would spend it on giving thesmeselves larger living areas compared to their lessers... So, who could say, really? Regardless, the buildings were still in pretty much the same state as everything else around the village. But what would she find if she poked her head into one of these larger dwellings?


@CitrusArms Niara Rootwick, @Rune_Alchemist Yingmei Okudaira

When the farmer girl offered the little creature some seeds, it looked up from what it was doing, spotted the new source of food, and immediately trundled over in its waddling way. IT happily pecked at the bits of food it had been given, then let out a satisfied "Rrrrrp~!" noise once it was done. It seemed very happy when the root elf patted and cuddled it, closing its eyes and enjoying the pets. When they stopped, it waddled over to the farm girl who had fed it, and nuzzled up against her leg, gently rubbing its feathered face and cheeks against her leg. It seemed to have taken quite a liking to these two ladies. It wasn't quite intelligent enought o give any replies or hints about its gender or ability to lay eggs though, sad as it was, most birds couldn't talk.

All that was left to do now was inspec tthe strange little shack, or the old farmhouse and see if there was anything useful or important there... Otherwise, all they could really do was either head back to the town, go explore somewhere else, or get to work on clearing up those fields that still needed a-cleaing!

//Eastern Village
_{@Xaltwind@LupusIntus}
MacKinnon hadn't been so lost in her own little treasure-hunting world that she didn't realize someone was following her. It was just that, instead of slowing down, she sped up, battered boots pounding down the dirt path as if this were a competition.

Which, of course, it was. One that she quite decisively won.

Kinda disappointing that it seemed like the foppish fellow who chased after her approached her at walking speed though. Turning around, she rolled her eyes to the corner of the sky best suited for thinking up simple answers to strange questions, before releasing an emphatic response: "Nope!"

Like, sure, there were possibly clues out there, and she had thought about the fates of the previous villages a little bit, but like, what was the point in that? If they were gone, they were gone! And if they returned, they ought to be thankful that others had made good use of what they left behind! So with the question answered and her conscience smoothed over, the cheery lass continued on with her own adventures, shouldering through doors, peeking through windows, looking up at fallen-in ceilings, not particularly minding the brown-haired hat-man who had followed her.

The Eastern portion of the village was, by all means, a place of industry (she figured). There was a dusty ol' blacksmith's forge from which she picked out a couple of less-rusty tools for resell before smacking a big, clear sign in the side of the wall. There was was a nice big water barrel, large enough that MacKinnon could climb into and roll on the side in. Didn't have any holes that she could see, but she did find out immediately after jumping in that it was home to a family of spiders (as well as a dead rat), so it took a while to pull out all the webs and crushed arachnids off of herself. After some cleaning up though, it'd be great to have a real big vessel to hold well water in! She could imagine the well-to-barrel-to-jug life cycle already!

The barrel was a pain in the ass to haul around though. Her rucksack was big, but not that big. Should she mark it like she did walls and doors? Eh...how much could a barrel be sold for anyways? Did it matter? Sometimes, you could throw away money for free, and somehow get that money back but more.

"Hey," she said to brown-haired question-man, "Wanna roll that back to the center for me?"

---

---

"A lady of few words... She'll fit right in." Rinn muttered, bemused as he watched the girl practically spring from one structure to the next. He walked calmly down the street as she crashed her way through yet another splintered door, his eyes tracing sagging gables, darkened doorframes, and crumbling walls. This had once been a thriving settlement, by his estimation, for the sheer number of large workshops spoke of a demanding populace. And yet, not one hint of recent occupation remained and all the buildings were in the same decaying state. There were no noticable signs of conflict or attack or starvation or plague.

It's as if every citizen just decided one day to pack up and leave.

He took up to humming a quiet tune, Love Lost in Landover, about a farmer who leaves his land chasing a wandering maid who ends up being a goddess of wind and fortune. Though not exactly a somber song, it ends with the man realizing he'll never settle again because such a goddess cannot be tied down: her direction is too fickle and bound to change at a moment's notice.

Rinn finally strolled over to what once might have been a large smithy as the pickaxe-girl climbed out of a large, solid-wood barrel. With a small grimace, he casually flicked a large spider off her shoulder before inspecting the sides of the barrel, running one finger around the iron-wrapped rim. He grimaced again at the thick layer of dust before pulling out a well-dirtied handkerchief which he used to grab the barrel and tip it onto its side. The bard was not particularly averse to filth, like so many nobles he had known, but he certainly wasn't as comfortable in it as this strange explorer. "You've got some dirt... well... everywhere." He said, offering the cloth to her with a faint smirk before using a booted foot to roll the barrel into the street.

---

The sound of wood clunking together drew Myrravel's attention. She watched as Akitsugu approached with his impressive load of firewood, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks as she realized how little she'd actually gathered while being distracted by plants. In a rushed attempt to look busy, she quickly grabbed two branches from the ground nearby - one covered in green moss, the other clearly too rotted to be of any use.

"I'd like to come back as well," Myrravel said, glancing back toward where she'd spotted the stinging nettle earlier. "I'm hoping I might find a pair of gloves somewhere in the village - we'll need them if we want to harvest that nettle properly." Looking down at the useless branches in her hands, she sheepishly tossed them aside.

Brom's question about food preferences offered a welcome distraction from her embarrassment. "Oh! I absolutely love a good meat pie," she said. Her enthusiasm dimmed slightly as she added, "Though I can't stand lettuce. Something about the texture just..." She wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

A rustling in the nearby shrubs caught her attention, making her pause mid-conversation. When the slime emerged, she instinctively took a step back, though her expression showed more caution than concern.

"Oh! A slime," she said, her voice lowered but steady as she watched it approach. "My grandmother used to tell me they're drawn to decomposing matter - that's why it's heading for our wood."

She moved closer to Brom, keeping a careful eye on the creature. Her hands moved into a defensive position out of instinct, but then she faltered. "I... I can't use my water magic here. There's no water source nearby," she admitted to her companions, glancing at the carefully bundled wood and remembering how much effort Akitsugu had put into gathering and organizing it.

"We should probably return… I think it won’t be able to follow…," she suggested, though she couldn't help but watch the slime's movements with growing interest. Despite the situation, her alchemist's mind was already wondering about potential uses for such a specimen. "Though..." she added in a thoughtful tone, "if we could safely collect a sample of it..."

She caught herself mid-thought, realizing this probably wasn't the best time for experimental alchemy. Still, she made a mental note to research more about slimes once they were safely back in the village. For now, though, protecting the gathered firewood took priority.

//Eastern Village
_{@Xaltwind@LupusIntus}

Round and round, she’ll never stay,
Her fortune changes day by day.
A fleeting kiss, a fleeting life,
No field, no home, no hearth, no wife.

Lyrics matching the quiet tune died out once the floppy, brown-haired man came over, MacKinnon’s focus drawn to more pressing needs. She formed an ‘x’ with her hands when the cloth was offered though, shaking her head at the same time (whether to further emphasize her refusal or just to shake some loose dust out of her hair).

“No worries ‘bout that, bud,” she chirped. “Gonna get dirtier anyways, so you can keep it for yourself.”

Anyways, what was the point of a cloth? What could be done with a handkerchief could be done with her hands too. And what couldn’t be done with either could be done with well water. She sure hoped that others were dealing with that, really. If they could fill the barrel with water, it was big enough to bathe in! Heat up some hot rocks, and wow, that’d be the first wash she’s had since…
Well, if it was just a wash, she had one just a while ago.

Now, back to business!

Carrying the tune of that depressing but catchy song on her lips, MacKinnon continued her treasure hunt throughout the eastern portion of the village, poking her head wherever her head would fit. Mat number two was beaten and rolled up, a fine furnishing for her collection. And wow, in an otherwise completely empty room with nothing else in sight, there laid a single drawer, from which a handful of eating utensils laid! She spat upon one of the spoons, wiping it until she could make out the blurriest bit of a reflection within the concave surface.

It had been a while since she had seen herself too. The indistinct mass that mirrored her movements in the metal looked healthy and charming though, and she flashed a wider grin in response, before moving to pocket the spoon alongside its family. But something stopped her. A curious glint upon its edge.

The sun shone in one direction, but ray of light shone in another.

She raised the spoon once more, rotating and swiveling it before narrowing down where exactly that light came from. She turned around, green eyes narrowed, focused. A glimmer of greed, a shimmer of curiosity, a spark of excitement.

And then, there it was.

Hanging from a ceiling beam, basking in the light, spinning in the wind.

At this distance, MacKinnon couldn’t tell what it was, exactly, but that didn’t stop her from clenching her fists, pumping her arms, and jumping up and down. A deep breath was drawn in, all so that it could empower the triumphant roar that her soul, her spirit, her very essence demanded her to release.

“JAAAAAACKPOOOOOOOT!”

...

A few minutes later, sporting a couple new splinters, a few new bruises, and a terrifically stupid grin on her face, MacKinnon spun the medallion by the chain as she headed southwards, to complete her expedition of the village.

@Xaltwind@CitrusArms

---

"O-Oh uhm, yes. I have some tea and rice seeds as well." The farmer would reach down and pick up the bird creature as she replied, cradling it in her arms. "Ehehe, you're not a scary thing at all are you? Just a cute little fluffy friend." She'd use one hand to pet and nuzzle the creatures head as shed cast her eyes back over to the ruined shack. She'd have to come up with a name for the little guy later. For now, though, his name would just be friend. She was hoping it was a mill, but she doubted one would be so lucky. Perhaps it was just an old barn or some such.

"Mhm...if worst comes to worst, we could probably build a mill ourselves...probably an old hand operated one, nngh, that sounds tiring..." Yingmei approached the building, trailing shortly behind Niara. The outside was absolutely in shambles. She was concerned going inside would cause the whole thing to collapse, but as the duo would push open the door it seemed as though they would be so lucky.

It was an old hand operated millstone.

"Oh...it is one!" It was in a state of disrepair and couldn't be used whatsoever in its current state, but the foundation and groundwork was still there and should make repairing or fixing it up to be used quite simple compared to making and building one from scratch. "Eheh, the gods must have blessed us with fortune this day! Fertile fields and a millstone!" She'd pet the chicken creature with a giggle. "And a cute little bird friend. We could probably have one of the others fix this up for us in time for a good wheat harvest."

---

---

Rinn let out a sighed chuckle as his handkerchief was refused and he tucked the article back into his pocket. He watched the strange treasure hunter for a few minutes as she practically rolled through the dirtiest corners she could find in her search for... anything? She was certainly a strange one, though he couldn't fault her enthusiasm for the task. As she crashed her way through yet another derelict shop, Rinn occupied himself by looking further around the forge. As with the other locals, not one hint of what might have happened to the previous residents remained with broken dishware and rusted tools still in their cabinets and drawers. He carefully inspected what remained with a layman's eye but was no closer to unraveling the mystery when he spotted the wooden pedestal tucked away in one corner of the room, half obscured by a ragged sheet.

Pulling it away he coughed and waved a hand against the dust cloud he had generated but as it cleared he let out a thoughtful hum. The piece was rather brilliantly crafted, with delicate engravings hand carved along its wooden length. His finger traced the odd symbol on its face but there was no indication of what might have once been displayed. It must have been something rather marvelous to outshine the pedestal itself.

After carefully placing the pedestal just outside the front door, he made a mental note to retrieve it later as it seemed a worthy place to display his vielle, Rinn walked around the proper home attached to the smithy. It was a simple residence, or had once been before dereliction, but now wind whistled through the wall's many holes and cracks and a better portion of the roof had completely collapsed. There was little to see and Pickaxe-Girl had indicated nothing left to scavange, but Rinn still busied himself with a careful walk along the rotted floor boards. He came upon a bookcase in an old bedroom, stripped but for a hand full of volumes that simply crumbled to ash when he tried to pick them up. He could not even identify their titles, let alone what knowledge they might have once contained. Though he had never been a book worm, it made him a little sad to think someone had once cherrished the books yet had chosen, or been forced, to leave them behind.

So lost in thought he was that Rinn couldn't help but start at the sudden gleeful shout of triumph from next door as Pickaxe-Girl found something of note. His sudden step back landed square on a particularly weak board and as it cracked he pitched sideways with a yelp of surprise. One hand instinctively grabbed the bookshelf for support but that too simply splintered apart at his sudden application of weight. Rinn went down hard as the bookshelf toppled though he managed to twist himself out of the way of the solid wood furniture piece as it crashed into the floor and broke apart.

The bard lay on the floor coughing for a moment, suddenly worried such a disturbance might bring the rest of the house down around him but after a few heartbeats it seemed things had settled. He sat up with a groan, rubbing his now-bruised shoulder, but spotted something that had been concealed beneath the bookshelf. Unlike the other books he had found, this leather-bound tome didnt immediately fall apart as he picked it up off the floor. An ominous creak from above gave him all the warning he needed to quickly struggle to his feet and make his way out the door and back out into the street. Pickaxe-Girl was walking towards him from up the road, looking just as dishelved as he though her face sported a triumphant grin. "I take it you found something more interesting than a barrel, my lady?" He coughed again, clutching the book at his side as the entire roof of the smithy suddenly collapsed inward with a thunderous crash.