[center][h3][i]Springwood Forest -> Village[/i][/h3][/center]
[@Dragonydas], [@Remram], [@Zeroth]

A captured slime inside a metal container proved to be not much of a challenge to keep securely locked away. After all, the thing didn't exactly have muscles to push with, nor did it seem all that aware of just what had happened and where it was. As far as the Forest Slime knew, night had fallen, and there was a mild earthquake and it had fallen into a strange hole, or something. Not that a slime could think in such detail, but it was an accurate enough estimation.

For those returning from the lumber-harvesting at the forest, they would find their return trip towards the village just as epic and eventful as their trip from it earlier. That is to say, not a single thing of interest other than their own chatter and conversation happened. But perhaps that was a welcome change of pace, after the thrilling and heart-pounding confrontatioin with their slimey new captive.

[center][h3][i]Southern Village -> Town Center[/i][/h3][/center]
[@ERode], [@BunniesOfDoom], [@Lupusintus]

At the prospect of being given a shiny (?) new trinket by the older girl, Wilma broke out in a big ol' smile and her eyes sparkled like gemstones that had just caught the sun's rays. She cheered and yippie'd energetically, while the old man merely chuckled dryly at the small one's excitement.

[color=silver]"Well then, let's head on back."[/color]

Not much was said or needed to be said, some minor inquiries and childish questions from Wilma asking [i]Big Sis MAc[/i] what she'd found, where she'd found it and how she'd found it. Other than that, Victor mostly asked more practical questions, like if she'd found anything edible, any signs of other people already living here here and where and which parts of the old ruined settlement that the treasure nhuntress had explored.

It didn't take long for the trio to return to heart of the village, where they were met by a now more organized and established Daryl and Sheryl, along with their busy-body elf lady and the foppish bard and his barrel o' empty.

[center][h3][i]South Farms[/i][/h3][/center]
[@Rune_Alchemist], [@CitrusArms]

Even clearing a small area was no small undertaking. Thankfully, the farm girl's familiarity and practiced hand at the art of agriculture would prove beneficial in getting things up and into shape, spick and span and all that jazz. However, even when you know what you're doing and how to do it, time still marches on, and with no way other than the sun in the sky itself to tell you how much time has passed, it's hard to say just how long the two ladies spent on getting their little plot of farmland ready.

But at the very least, the sun had moved enough across the celestial camopy to now be casting the shadows of things in a slightly different direction.
[hr]
[center][h3][i]Center of Town[/i][/h3][/center]
[b]Time:[/b] Early Afternoon
[b]NPCs:[/b] Daryl, Sheryl, Victor, Wilma
[b]Players:[/b] Everyone who made it back to the town center.

[color=beige]"So, old timer. What'd you and the lil' missy find out after your walk?"[/color]
[color=silver]"Nothing much, really. We couldn't find any signs of other people still living here, and I couldn't really find any hints as to why."[/color]
[color=lightpink]"YOu... You think it might've been monsters? Or bandits...?"[/color]
[color=silver]"I doubt that. Monsters wouldn't bother clearing out the furniture of most buildings, and there aren't any bones or dried blood. Bandits, same deal. No signs of any fighting, and none of the buildings look forcefully entered."[/color]

The three new settlers were standing around the big, four-pointed star statue at the center of town, discussing their findings and musings with one another. At this point, Sheryl and Daryl had mostly gotten their wagon emptied out and their crates and containers properly categorized inside the stone brick building. Wilma, was happily inspecting the strange shuriken-like object with a sense of adventuruous wonder while her grandfather did the boring adult-talking.

[color=beige]"Well, we haven't really found anything out either. Mostly just unpacked and stored stuff away, so..."[/color]
[color=silver]"No worries there. I don't think we'd find much even if we all ponied up and searched around. Ths place looks... Like it was just abandoned, for whatever reason."[/color]
[color=lightpink]"Well, that isn't ominous at all...."[/color]
[color=beige]"Don't be such a worry-wart, it's fine! I'm here to keep you safe, honey!"[/color] Arm flex.
[color=lightpink]"... My hero..."[/color] Eye rolls.
[color=silver]"Hah, you love-birds were made for each other."[/color] Bemused chuckling.

After some fervent denial from the red-headed woman and some loud, undeniably ruckus agreement from the big man, the conversation continued.

[color=silver]"Still... I'm curious about this thing."[/color] Victor pointed at the suculpture his granddaguther was now attempting - and failing - to get up on. [color=silver]"I feel mlike I've seen it somewhere before, but I can't... Quite place it..."[/color]
[color=beige]"Memory starts going at your age, huh?"[/color]
[color=lightpink]"[b]Daryl![/b]"[/color]
[color=beige]"[sub]Sorry...[/sub][/color]
[color=aqua]"Gramopy's old and forgets stuff!"[/color]
[color=silver]"Hey...! That's not a very nice thing to say about your granpa...!"[/color]

It seemed there was not but a bit of casual discussio and backhanded comments flying to and fro now. Perhaps soem of the other settlers had more to share, or things to bring up, or something to ask, declare or otherwise make heard? Or... Perhaps they were interested in getting ready for the approaching evening. Victor and Wilma still hadn't unloaded their cart, but it didn't seem like the old man was in any hurry to do so.

Thanks to a certain elf, the wooden longhouse had eben cleaned. OR well, at least made [i]less[/i] dirty than it was before. And with the addition of Sheryl's blankets, the cots were now at least serviceable as a place to lay down and rest. The group who what brought back firewood may want to divvy it up amongst the residents, or keep it all to themselves. There was also the strange tome that the bard had found, and the bits and pieces of recorded history there-within.

So much could still be said and done, as time marched on.