Elandar shivered mockingly. "Oh no!" he exclaimed. The old man sniffed at the air and glanced around the room. There were a handful of scattered patrons seated sporadically across the tavern, each seemingly content to eat their meals quietly while minding their own business. "I smell something cooking," he observed with a hungry look in his eye, "what's for breakfast?"
Although Morgan was eager to get going, the pleasant aroma of whatever was being prepared back in the kitchen had stirred up his appetite. He put a hand to his stomach. It murmured its agreement.
Zanadar sighed and sagged his shoulders in defeat. "Fine."
The party ate a quick breakfast, with the big man tapping his foot impatiently all throughout and then departed. It was a pleasant morning in Rindol Field. The crisp air was somewhat cold, but the rising sun would quickly remedy that.
Jon Harkin's farm was located on the outskirts of the village. Along the way, they passed many of the townsfolk in the street, most of whom were already hard at work tending to their gardens or carting in produce from the fields. Morgan recognized many of them from the previous night at the tavern. They smiled and waved politely at the group as they passed, before returning to their work.
As the party passed the stables, Renna glanced in their direction, a concerned expression on her face.
"Don't worry, I'm sure they are fine," Morgan said, noticing her look. "If the Halflings are anywhere near as hospitable to them as they are to us, we will probably never convince them to leave."
That seemed to ease the stable hand's worry a bit. She nodded, and then an impish grin spread across her lips. "They're probably having a wonderful time with Gray."
They arrived at Jon Harkin's farm a few minutes later. A small house sat along the edge of the property. Behind it, a large field stretched out into the countryside. A worn down looking barn with peeling paint stood a ways beyond the house. Despite its dilapidated appearance, it was quite obviously well built.
"The print is back this way," the big man said, gesturing towards the field. Zanadar lead the group around the side of the farmer's home and back into his neatly planted rows of crops. A variety of vegetables and other plants grew in the field, each given their own large area.
They trudged through countless rows of turnips, radishes and onions, occasionally scaring up a small flock of birds or startling a rabbit out of hiding. Morgan stepped carefully, to avoid damaging any of the knee-high plants.
The ground began to slope downward slightly, and the ranger could see Mayor Gamstell and another halfling, presumably Jon Harkin, perhaps a hundred paces in front of them. They were standing close together and looking at something on the ground.
Dorbin glanced up and noticed them approaching. He waved and gestured towards the ground in front of them.
"Over here," he called out.
"I was beginning to think you had forgotten about us," Jon said to Zanadar as the group reached the two halflings. The farmer appeared to be middle aged. Wrinkles lined his hazel eyes and forehead though his brown hair still maintained most of its youthful color. He was clean shaven, and a bit skinnier than the mayor. He wore simple workman's pants and a loose fitting, knit shirt. He grinned crookedly at the big man.
Zanadar frowned and pointed a stern finger at Elandar. "That one held us up," he accused.
"I wasn't the only one who wanted breakfast," the old man spat back indignantly.
Dorbin let out a deep laugh and clasped his hands together. "Well, we're all here now," he said, "That's what is important." The mayor was dressed much the same as he had been the previous day. He turned towards Morgan and Renna, "It is good to see you two again this morning. I hope you slept well?"
"Very," Renna said pleasantly, "Thank you."
"Well, Zanadar here has already seen it," Jon said as he leaned over and began to pull several plants out of the way so that the others could see, "But here it is."
Morgan looked down into the exposed soil at the print. The big man was right. It was large, much too large to be a wolf. The shape of the print was entirely different from a wolf's as well. It was sunken deep into the dirt and rather than looking like a paw, it instead had a large sole and three thick, oversized and elongated toes.
Renna squinted at the print. "It looks kind of like a big bird."
Morgan knew that it was no bird though. Whatever had made the track was much too large and much too heavy to be just a bird. The ranger placed one boot covered foot next to the print. It was barely as long as one of the toes alone.
"Bears, wolves, deer, badgers... I would know any of those if I saw them," Morgan said, "But I've never seen a track like this before. It walks on two feet, but that's about all I can tell you right now I'm afraid."
Dorbin's face fell somewhat, he looked a bit disappointed. The ranger noticed the mayor's expression and apologized.
"I'm sorry, Mayor Gamstell. I don't know what it is," he looked towards Zanadar. "What about you?"
The big man eyed the three-toed indentation silently for a moment, studying it carefully. "No." he said finally, in a flat voice. "I don't know either."
Renna shot the big man a peculiar look.
"Well some help you two are," Elandar chimed in, waving his staff at Zanadar and Morgan. "It's a good thing we came all this way. I don't know what they would have done without us."
Both Dorbin and Jon laughed at that. "Oh don't you worry about it," Jon said empathetically, "We haven't the slightest idea what it is either, but between us I'll wager we can get to the bottom of it."
Morgan knelt down next to the track and looked at it more closely. "I am assuming it was raining the night this was made?" he said looking up towards the farmer.
Jon nodded. "Indeed it was. There's a few others scattered about but this was the best looking print I could find, so I made sure to take special care of it until you got here, so nothing would ruin it."
"I appreciate that," the ranger responded. "How long ago was it made?"
"This one..." the farmer thought for a moment, "about a week ago. If you look hard enough you can find them all over my field though. Whatever it is has been back as recently as two nights ago. It doesn't seem to ever go up this hill, and I've taken to herding my pigs into the barn at night. It has stayed away so far, but I would rather not give it the opportunity to kill again.
"Even without taking more of my pigs," he added, "it's still doing enough damage to my crops. Whatever it isn't digging up and eating, it's just trampling into the dirt."
"And you've never seen the creature?" Morgan asked.
Jon shook his head. "I'm in my fields nearly the entire day and I've not seen a thing. It comes during the night. I tried sitting on top of the barn after the sun has gone down on several occasions but never have I managed to spot the beast."
"None of us have," the mayor interjected, "It only comes when it's dark and until recently hasn't come very close to the village, so we weren't too worried. But it has been coming farther and farther up this hill. Slowly, yes, but with each visit it ventures closer. That's the reason we decided to send for you. We do not have walls or fortifications, and as you saw yesterday our children are quite fond of playing outside during the day..." he trailed off.
"I understand completely, Mayor Gamstell," Morgan assured the Halfling. He turned towards Jon, "Do you mind if I look around at some of the other tracks?"
"Of course not," the farmer responded, "Do whatever you need to do." He gestured down the hill, "Most of them are down that way, there's a few up here but not many."
"Thank you," the ranger said as he continued further down into the field. The others followed close behind. While descending through the rows of crops Morgan could make out faint impressions of where the animal had stepped. He carefully pushed the farmer's plants aside, spilling the morning dew from their leaves onto the ground, to get a better look. None were nearly as well preserved as the first print. As the ground began to once again level out though the tracks became clearer, and much less difficult to find.
"Why are they so much easier to spot down here?" Renna asked, looking back up the hill to where Dorbin and Jon stood talking to one another.
"Farmer Harkin said it had rained recently, most of the water probably ended up down here and caused there to be quite a bit of mud. It dried, and apparently it has not rained again since, which is fortunate for us," the ranger explained.
"You know Morgan," Zanadar started with a grin, "You're much better at this than I thought you'd be."
"Thank you... I think."
The big man laughed. "Don't worry, it was a compliment."
Elandar poked at one of the footprints with his staff. "Not good enough to know what it is though," he grumbled.
"Well, I can tell you that whatever it is," the ranger said towards the old man, "that there is more than one of them."
Zanadar nodded. "He's right," he pointed towards a group of crushed plants. Their leaves had been stomped into the dirt. Two partially faded sets of tracks ran through them. "Look, they aren't the same size. They're close, but these were definitely made by two different animals."
"So what does that mean?" Renna asked.
The big man shrugged, "Just that there were at least two."
Elandar leaned on his staff and peered to the south, past the edge of the farmland and into the sprawling green fields, which seemed to roll off into the distance forever in the clear morning air. Their tall grass waved gently in the light early breeze. "I don't see anything," he said.
"Well," Zanadar stated, "You are quite old, you know."
He glared dubiously at the big man and gripped his staff tightly. "Don't you start with me, meathead, my eyes are just as good as they ever were and you know it."
Zanadar looked amused for a moment, and then narrowed his eyes as he too gazed out into the fields. "As much as I hate to admit it, I don't see anything out there either."
"The tracks clearly came from the south though," Morgan added.
The big man grinned widely, "So I guess we'll be going that way, won't we?"
Elandar grumbled audibly and looked back up the hill towards the village. "After we get our horses." Renna seemed to brighten a bit at that.
Morgan and Zanadar exchanged a quick glance and both nodded. "Fair enough," the big man said. "We will be able to cover a lot more ground that way. With any luck we'll be able to catch whatever they are sleeping."
They turned and began to hike carefully back up the hill, the ground was wet and slick still at this early hour.
"Did you find any more tracks?" Dorbin asked as they made their way back up towards the two Halflings.
Morgan nodded to the mayor and explained what they had seen down the hill. "Right now we are headed back to the stables to get our horses then we're going to ride south a ways and see what we can find."
"Oh my," Dorbin responded. "Do be careful." Jon echoed the sentiment. "If you need any supplies see Nelton," the mayor called out as they started back towards the village, "they will be free of charge, of course."
Elandar rubbed his hands together excitedly. "Free of charge," he hummed to himself.
"Don't get any bright ideas." Zanadar scolded. "I sincerely doubt by supplies he meant any sort of ale. Besides, I thought you didn't like Halfling brews."
"They are better than nothing," the old man shot back, as they entered once again into the village.
Renna tugged on Morgan's sleeve and pulled him aside as the other two men argued. "Morgan..." she said quietly.
"What is it?"
"You know when Zanadar said he didn't know what made those tracks?" she whispered, keeping an eye on the big man.
"Yes."
"He was lying."
