Samuel sits back on his horse and looks you over closely, Peace, before responding.

"Don't take a detective, old timer. 'Bout a month ago, they show up and settle here. A week later, the attacks start. Now, we ain't saying all shifters are bad," he says, turning around in his saddle and glaring at the dwarf who spoke before. "Hell, I don't even think the big fella's lying when he says he don't know nothing. I'm just saying that maybe there's a bad apple in his tribe. And until he gets his people sorted, he should get the hell outta Havenglen. The Wardens may be scared to make a move against y'all, but we ain't."

Beard, the shifter tribal leader, seems to be getting more agitated. "We're not leaving Samuel. I'll vouch for every member of my tribe. No one here had anything to do with those attacks. We rely on the Wardens for protection just as much you do. Why would we move against them?"

Korvash has a strong feeling that our group needs to be the third party in this situation, to find middle ground between the Shifters and Samuel's group. He wants to speak up, but decides to let someone else do the talking.

Breyten pipes up, still on the wagon, "Samuel, it's Samuel ya? I think I have a possible solution, if you and Beard here are willing to compromise."

Breyten climbed down off the wagon and joined Peace, at his side, "Wouldn't a better compromise be that you leave behind a guard, someone who's not too hot handed, to make sure the Shifters don't send someone into the city? Then if another attack happens it will exonerate them" 

Persuasion: 22

Zeenon notices a shifter child among the spectators, raises one arm, and wiggles the fingers of that hand at the smallish creature cordially. "Look, Zeetin. A baby. Cute baby. Hello, Baby," he says no more loudly than you would to someone sitting beside you.

Samuel bites into a chicory root and chews it for a minute, dragging out the moment. "That could work, I s'pose. As long as you're amenable, Beard, and you guarantee the safety of my man."

Beard looks at you all doubtfully. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, but... if this is the only way we can stay, we'll make do."

The dwarf Bilick sputters with rage. "Are ya serious, Samuel? Ya can't trust these shifters. As soon as we ride all, they're gonna do all sorts of unnatural stuff to whoever we leave."

Samuel glares at the dwarf. "We'll talk about this later, Bilick. Dain, you stay here with the tribe. Between us, we'll make sure your fields are tended to. That crop of pumpkins you got coming will be nice and big for ya, when you get back" The other dwarf, who has a chin beard that is the color of flames, nods, but says nothing.

"Bilick will bring ya some of your things tomorrow, and ta check in." Samuel turns to you. "Strangers, we're mighty obliged to you. If ya are coming to Havenglen, ya kin find me at the Farmer's Hearth -- that's my tavern. I'll buy ya a round. Beard, you take care of my friend Dain, here. If I hear tell that he gets anything worse than a hangnail, we'll be coming for ya."

With that, Samuel nods, and he and the half-elf turn there horses around and straight to head back to Havenglen. Bilick lingers back for the moment, staring daggers at Beard and then you Breyten, then with a sharp, "Yah!" he follows his friends.

Beard, the burly shifter you had been talking to, lets out a big sigh of relief. "Dain -- you go ahead and find yourself a place to camp down. We can probably rustle up a blanket for you. Listen, folks. Its over -- we're going to have a guest for a couple of days, but we'll be safe until we need to move."

As the small group of huddled shifters relaxes and begins to come out of their grouping, you see that one of them is very heavily pregnant, and there are at least two youngish children are among the numbers. Some of the children seem enthralled, especially by Zeenon and they start creeping closer pointing and whispering to one another, until a stern look from Beard sends them scattering. Beard turns back to you.

"Yeah, this lot looks like a real threat, eh? That was quick thinking young man. I don't particularly care for having a guest the next couple of days, but that dwarf isn't so bad. Certainly better than his brother. Now, you said you're reporters, yes? And you want to talk about those attacks? So you come to the shifters, first."

He looks at you expectantly, eyebrow raised.

(Crap, I was sitting outside and didn't get the notifications about the posts!  Great response, though, MC!)

Seeing that Breyton has struck a bit of a rapport with Beard, Peace stands with him.  "Breyton is smarter than he looks.  I'm sorry about that.  People can be... alot.  I do not see you as a threat.  We are, in fact, here to find out the source of the attacks.  That group was just too riled up to talk to reasonably to right now.  We will also talk to them once they've had an opportunity to calm down.  Now, without any hint of accusation, what has been happening here? All we know is that there have been some attacks."

"Got ourselves our own mediator," Rowan whispers to Breyten with a grin, nudging him playfully, before turning back to face Beard. "Oh, and we're definitely not with the Chronicle," she pipes up, though she's paused her picture-taking attempts since he stepped in front of her, blocking the path. "Varna Free Post all the way. Actually, we were planning on heading straight for the city, but we got the feeling something was up with the riders, so here we are. Post intuition," she adds, brightly.

Beard looks at you incredulously, then slaps his sizable belly and laughs heartily. "Why, young lady, you are very lucky you did not mention that earlier. The only thing preventing me from turning Samuel and his hateful ilk into a smear on the forest floor is the fear that I'd be exposed in the Chronicle. No one reads the Post out here. I think Samuel uses it as bog wipe at his tavern, maybe." He laughs again, and then turns serious as he addresses your questions, Peace.

"We really don't know a lot to be honest. We settled down just outside of town about a month ago, because Fang over there is about due to have her little one, and she can't travel until her babe comes." He points out the heavily pregnant woman. "The attacks began soon after. The Wardens came out to speak to us about a week later, a sensible elf lady named Sister Wynrora. The Wardens have let us be since, but we haven't really been welcome in town. Tolerated, maybe. But I reckon even that's about to change."

"Since the attacks started, I've told my people to keep an eye out for anything strange. There's a gnome in town who's been poking around. Name of Hasal. He arrived in town, just after the first attack. Life of the party sort, though, spending gold everywhere, so he's welcome in town still." There's a note of bitterness in his voice, but its quickly replaced by his normal good-natured tone. "And there is some activity at the Wolf's Paw -- the highest point in the hills outside of the Wolfwood. A lot of comings and goings of folks up there. I told the Wardens about it, but they didn't seem too concerned.

While he's speaking, two of the braver children sneak up to the wagon and one of them pokes at Zeenon. "Psst. Are you alive metal man?" She whispers.

"Ah, you are trying to wait out the delivery of Fang's child.  That makes sense.  I apologize that this situation has fallen on you at a time when you by all rights should be focused on other things.  We'll do what we can to ease the situation.  Can I trust that you too will keep the peace?"  Peace frowns slightly and strokes his beard, then smiles. "I'm sure I can.  Sorry.  Force of habit to ask.  Thank you so much for your help.  This has given us a few things to look into, and anything you provide helps clear your name, as far as I'm concerned."

Korvash scribbles down a few notes from Beard's little spiel. Just a few of the most important things. He isn't writing anything down for press material, just cautionary and direction notes:

• Shifters arrived to deliver a child
• Someone is trying to frame the Shifters
• Look for anything suspicious
• Look for Hasal the gnome, see what he is up to
• Check out the Wolf's Paw

After he jots down his notes, Korvash smiles as he looks up at the two Shifter children playing with Zeenon. If only I had children of my own, he begins to think.

Zeenon silently watches the little ones approach and looks down at them as they look up at it. "Metal man? Zeenon made of metal," it says, raising one fist to bang on its chest, "but Zeenon not a man. Zeenon an old boy." It says the last in a distorted imitation of Whiskers. "Is Zeenon alive?" The construct pauses, sitting stone still for a couple of heartbeats, then leans forward and whispers conspiratorially. "Zeetin is alive."

Breyten sighed a sigh of relief as silently as could, but choked on it a bit as Rowan nudged him, he put his hand on the back of his head and rubbed his hair lightly, "Yea.." he answered sheepishly. He then listened to Beard's explanation and took his pad and pen out and took notes of his own that pretty heavily mimic'd Korvash's even if he didn't know it.  

"Have you heard of any sort of Aundairan presence in town, whether it be military or otherwise? Maybe someone asking about the local cheese?" Breyten smiled at the oft repeated stereotype about the Aundairan's. 

The little girl who approached Zeenon squeals with delight and turns to the friend who comes with her. "See? I TOLD you he was nice." And as Zeenon tells them about Zeetin, the little girl nods knowingly and whispers "Tell Zeetin hi from Longears and Snout." The two children then scurry off as they sense Beard's eyes on them.

Beard smiles indulgently at the children. "Don't mind them. They have no memories of the war, so they view everything as innocents.It's something not many in this world have known. I envy them sometimes. Regarding the military, I can't say for sure. When we first got to town we were welcome, but things changed after the attacks started, so we haven;t really gotten to know Havenglen the way we do other towns. I do know the mayor is a veteran of the Aundarian forces during the Last War. Many of the folks are around here, though, because of the draft. Most shifters had no love for Aundair, so few of us served.

He looks back at the ruins where the shifter camp is set up. "This actually used to be a temple to the Purified Silver Flame.Zealots who believed Thrane had strayed from the true light. It was destroyed in the war, but its still makes a fine camp. Speaking of which, its getting on near dark. if you folks want to stay for dinner, you're welcome too. I think one of the ladies is stewing up some rabbit."

Korvash is humbled by the Shifters' hospitality. "Thank you for your offer," he nods and says. "I, for one, would love to stay, but we shall see what the others think."

Peace's face twinges at the mention of the War.  He immediately puts on a smile and says, "The children are delightful.  I hope they never see anything as heinous as that.  i actually used to work with some of the Silver Flame temples, but unfortunately, I know they also have a tendency towards... legalism."  He looks off in the distance for a minute.  

"We would love to join you for dinner.  I can help prepare or clean up, as you need.  My wife has me fairly well trained after all these years.  Will you be inviting our new chaperone?  It may be a great way to get someone from the village on your side and show that you are harmless.  If he's going to be sticking around, we might as well extend a bit of an olive branch.  That said, it's your family and people, so I don't want to tell you what to do."  

Rowan listens to Beard with some measure of curiosity, and waves at the children as they take their leave, though she cheers even further at the prospect of food. "Yes, please," she agrees, with conviction. "Dinner sounds amazing."

"Hi from Longears and Snout," Zeenon repeats. He curls and uncurls his fingers in a good-bye gesture as the children run off.

Beard laughs at Peace's request and slaps his belly once more. "But of course! I am nothing but not a gracious host. Follow me!" He walks (or more accurately, waddles) into one of the ruined buildings, barking some orders to some of the children along the way, telling them to summon the others for the evening's dinner. Walking into the building, which you recognize as a former church. The altar had been refashioned into a makeshift table, with the pews forming seats. To further aid in the transformation of the space into a dining area, you are all assailed with an array of fragrant smells. Hare, some sort of rich, heady wine, vegetables. Beard sits you all down and grins. "I take it from your faces that you haven't been to a shifter dinner yet? Well, my friends, you are in for a treat! How do you think I got this belly!" He roars with laughter and walks off towards the kitchen.

As soon as he appears, the dwarf, Dain, enters the church behind you. "The fat man seems very cheerful for the situation he and his people find themselves in. I don't trust him." He is shortish for a dwarf, and squat, but whereas Beard's bulk seems to be mostly fat, the quiet dwarf who sits at the table next to Zeenon is all muscle. His skin is tanned and leathery, as though he spends almost all of his time outside. He has a thin fiery red beard without a mustache, and his gray eyes seem to be constantly darting around, taking in his new surroundings. "And I wouldn't trust anything he tells you hacks, if I were you either."

Before you can go any further, the other shifters start coming in and taking their seats. Including Beard, Dain, and yourselves, there are 20 people at the table. Beard sits himself next to Dain and before the food comes out, he stands up and speaks.

"Well, friends. It's been a rough few weeks. But we made it. Our friend from Havenglen here will be stayin' a few days, to make sure we behave ourselves. Let's make sure we show him who we are so next time we come to Havenglen, we find some friendly faces here. Instead of what we found this season." He looks at Dain, who returns Beard's gaze impassively. "And we got some folks from the press here. The Varna Free Post!" Beard's announcement is met with blank faces all around the table. He clears his throat and finishes speaking adding "You know I'm not one for speechifying, especially when the vittles are still steaming, so dig in, folks!"

You are served a stinging nettle salad with pickled hare and some soft cheese, and for those of you who try it, it is delicious. The cook is an old, grizzled Beasthide shifter named Growl, and she seems especially pleased that most people around the table, Dain included, seem to be enjoying the meal. You are all offered some homemade dandelion wine as well (anyone who tries it should make a CON saving throw DC 10 -- failure means you're intoxicated for an hour, except Zeenon :) )

(You have some time during the dinner to chat, or observe any of the others.)

Breyten was glad to be joining the Shifters for dinner, maybe there could be a side piece written on a shifter feast, something with a catchy title. He began going over possibilities in his mind as he ate, "Bunny and Beasthides", "The Shifter and the Hare", or maybe "A Dandy Dandelion Wine and Cheese". He drank the wine and ate the food so as to be able to write the review himself, the Shifters seemed harmless, but there could always be an outlier. 

Con Save for the Wine: 13

As it worked out Breyten was sat on the other side of Dain the Dwarf and after he'd finished his meal and drank his wine he began to chat with him, "I heard Samuel say that you have a patch of pumpkins growing in your fields. I used to be a farmer too, back during the war. We grew pumpkins on the back acreage, but mostly grew wheat and corn."

Peace is delighted at the display, not having seen such a meal in years, since his last family reunion.  Peace of course tries the wine (Con Save 8) and tries to talk to as many people as he can, trying to hear their stories.  He goes to Growl and says "This is astounding.  You have a talent, ma'am!  Do you cook like this for your tribe every night?" Peace looks around at the children, and he misses his family.  "I'm going to get everyone together next time I'm in town, " He thinks to himself.