"Well..." Dorbin began expansively. He then stopped abruptly and gave the party an embarrassed look. "Where are my manners?" he asked, "Please, come sit down."
The Mayor ushered the group to a large table near the rear of the tavern. At it, two more Halflings sat on high stools. They each appeared to be roughly the same age as the Mayor. They raised their mugs and greeted the party with friendly smiles.
"These are my cousins, Nelton and Reinor," Dorbin said, "They help me keep everything organized. Nelton oversees all of our finances and trade matters and Reinor is our chief envoy. I don't know what I would do without them."
"You would do about a third as much," Reinor teased. The Mayor's cousin had a stocky build and like the Mayor, thinning brown hair. He wore a fine white shirt underneath a buttoned surcoat and a pair of well made brown pants.
Dorbin's brow arched into a good-natured frown, and then softened. "It's true I'm afraid," he conceded as the group sat down around the table.
Nelton turned towards the party. A sly twinkle beamed from his chestnut colored eyes giving his face a youthful appearance, despite the wrinkles beginning to appear. His hair was lighter than Reinor's and he was a bit thinner. "Don't let Dorbin trick you into thinking he doesn't do anything," he said jovially while rolling up the sleeves on his patched tunic, "As much as he would have you believe otherwise, he is the one who keeps Rindol Field intact."
The Mayor finished his pastry and shrugged. "It isn't hard to stay on the right path when you were placed on it from the start," he said, licking his fingers. "But we're getting off track, I apologize."
"I would not have requested the rangers' assistance had I the means of dealing with this problem myself," he began, "but with all those dang blasted ants in these parts lately I simply don't have the resources to deal with it. You should see those things," he paused briefly, "The ants, I mean. Just last week I saw one nearly as large as me! Fortunately, they only seem to be interested in our crops unless provoked, but I'll feel much better once we are able to get rid of them."
"So the ants are not the problem then?" Zanadar asked.
"Oh they're a problem all right," Nelton said seriously, "But not the reason we sent for you."
Dorbin nodded. "Rindol Field is a peaceful place, we aren't accustomed to trouble, but the ants are more of a nuisance than anything. A very large crop destroying dangerous nuisance, mind you, but one I think we are capable of handling," he said, "No, we called for you because of another matter entirely.
"About three weeks ago now," the Mayor continued, "One of Jon Harkin's-"
"-Jon is a local farmer," Reinor interjected.
Dorbin grinned a bit sheepishly. "Sorry," he apologized, "I tend to get a little ahead of myself."
"Its quite all right," the big man replied patiently, "Go on."
"A few weeks ago, a few of Jon's pigs turned up dead. At first, I figured the blasted ants had just gotten sick of swiping our crops. But then he showed me the pigs..."
"What happened to them?" Morgan asked.
"You tell them, Nelton," Dorbin responded with a shiver, "You saw them too."
The Mayor's cousin grimaced and shook his head. "It was not pleasant, to say the least," he said, "They had been torn apart pretty thoroughly. We found pieces of them littered about Jon's entire field."
Renna brought a hand up to her mouth. "That is horrible."
Nelton nodded sadly and set his mug down. "They were the friendliest bunch of pigs I've ever seen too."
"So how do you know it wasn't the ants though?" Morgan said.
"Well, a few reasons," Dorbin explained, "When they decide they fancy something they never leave pieces laying all about. They take every little bit back to their holes. As much as I don't like those pests, one thing they most certainly are not is wasteful." The Mayor took on a thoughtful expression. "Then we started to find ants in conditions similar to the pigs, and I've never seen them fight one another before. I don't think that they do."
"Besides," Nelton added, "I'm not sure they would even be capable of doing something like that. They were not clean wounds. Whatever did that used brute force."
"So then what happened?" Zanadar pressed.
"Well like I said," the Mayor replied, "At first I thought it was the ants, but we ruled that out. Then I figured Jon's son, Durton was involved."
"He's not a bad boy," Reinor offered, "He just seems to have a knack for finding trouble."
Dorbin nodded in agreement. "And it isn't uncommon that he disappears for a few days only to turn up again after something suspicious has happened."
"However," Nelton chattered on, "Durton assures us he had nothing to do with it. And as easy as it would have been to just blame the boy, I believe him. It just doesn't seem like something he would do. Its true, he does get into a good deal of trouble, but it's always he just pilfered this or swiped that. He's never really hurt anything before."
"Nelton is a shrewd one," the Mayor continued, "He can usually tell when someone is trying to pull one over on him. I have to admit though, I wasn't entirely convinced that Durton wasn't involved. I never thought he had done it personally, but he's got friends from the city who come down here every now and then." Dorbin's eyes narrowed slightly. "Very shady friends."
Zanadar blinked wearily. "But you don't think it was his friends?" he asked.
"Well I did," Dorbin said, "until just last week. It rained one night and the next morning we found some tracks around another torn up ant."
The big man arched an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "What did they look like?"
The Mayor shrugged. "Nothing I've ever seen before." He held his hands out a few feet apart, eyeing them carefully. "They were about this size, I'd say. What do you think Nelton, is that right?"
The other Halfling nodded his agreement. "They were quite large. They certainly were not made by one of us."
Zanadar leaned forward a bit. "Was there anything peculiar you remember about them?"
"I wouldn't know where to begin," Dorbin answered. The big man gave the Halfling a frustrated look. "But we thought you may want to see them so we covered one to keep it safe. We'll take you to see it first thing in the morning," the Mayor said with a grin.
"I think he was about to come right over the table at you," Reinor observed casually to his cousin. Zanadar coughed and tried not to look too guilty.
Over by the fireplace, the three Halfling musicians finished their performance and set their pipes aside. The crowd applauded graciously as the troupe took a bow. Nelton and the Mayor both clapped and shouted their praise.
"Those three always do a terrific job," Dorbin said blithely, looking at the party.
The crowd inside the tavern quieted somewhat and the group continued talking at the table. Dorbin asserted there was no reason to start investigating that night and insisted upon treating the entire party to supper.
Pausing briefly to eat, the Mayor and Nelton shared several long-winded but entertaining anecdotes. Reinor remained quiet for the most part, occasionally tossing in his own somewhat sardonic perspective. The crowd in the building seemed only to grow after the meal. Morgan found himself having a good time.
A short while later, Nelton peered through the crowd at a small group of children who sat near where the musicians had been performing earlier. They kept shooting curious looks towards the table and giggling amongst one another whenever they caught one of the group's gaze. Morgan turned around in time to see one of the older children approaching where they sat, her friends watching intently from behind. The ranger recognized a few of them from when they had arrived in the village earlier.
Nelton grinned at his cousin. "I think you're going to get a request for another story," he said to the Mayor.
"I've been telling the children stories after dinner lately," Dorbin explained, "I think they've come to expect it." He chuckled softly for a moment. "I don't know that many more to tell though," he said.
"Mayor Gamstell..." the young girl said as she reached the table. She looked up at Dorbin with big brown eyes. Dorbin melted almost instantly.
"See what they do?" he accused, "They know I don't stand a chance. They're really quite devious."
"Mayor Gamstell, will you tell us a story?" the girl asked hopefully, "...please?"
He smiled back down at the child. "Well now," Dorbin replied in a serious tone, "What kind of story are you interested in hearing?"
She thought for a moment, pondering what was to her a very serious issue. After a moment, she looked back up. "A story about magic," she said decisively.
"A story about magic," the Mayor repeated to himself, thinking, "I'm not sure if I know any of those. I know lots of stories about farmers."
"It just so happens I know somebody who can probably tell a few stories about magic," Zanadar cut in. He gestured towards where Elandar sat. The old man though, appeared to have fallen asleep in his chair, his head tilted back slightly and the mug in his hand hovered dangerously close to slipping free from his grip and spilling onto the floor.
Morgan tugged politely on the sleeve of Elandar's robes. The old man snorted and pulled away. Zanadar leaned over and poked him sharply in the ribs. Elandar spat out briefly as his eyes shot open. Straightening himself, he scowled at the big man. "What?" he asked crankily. "Did those three finally get to the point about the pigs?"
"Sort of," Zanadar said, flashing a quick grin at the Mayor. "But we have a request for a story about magic." He gestured towards the group of children back near the fireplace, all anxiously awaiting the old man's answer.
"It seems a wizard as mighty as yourself would know lots of magic stories," Renna offered, smirking.
The young girl's eyes widened in amazement. "You're a wizard?" she asked excitedly.
Elandar shot the big man a dangerous look before turning back to the child. "I happen to be a mighty wizard, young lady," he replied sternly, gripping his worn staff tightly in his bony old hands. He thought for a moment and then narrowed his eyes down at the girl. By this point, much of the tavern was watching the interaction with a keen interest. "I may know one..." he trailed off briefly. The crowd seemed to lean in closer. "But I'm not sure if I remember it all. Perhaps if I had a few more drinks it would help freshen my memory."
Almost instantly, shouts erupted from the patrons and tankards full of sweet ale began to appear on the table at an alarming rate. The young girl backed up and rejoined her friends seated in front of the fireplace. All eyes were now rested firmly upon the old man, who sat glaring at the collection of mugs on the table before him.
He grumbled bitterly to himself and then leaned back in his chair. "Fine then," Elandar said with a frown, "One story and one story only."
