A Nomadic Village

As I followed them, we eventually came upon what I could only believe was their home. It doesn't look like places that were meant to last. Instead of cutting away trees to make something approximating permanent structures, it looks like they were left intact-using them as part of the support for a series of lean-tos, presumably to be dismantled the next time they pulled up stakes. Reflecting on this gave me a bit of amusement-it looks like i was getting a full tour of different architecture levels. Mud and thatch huts, tent city, cobblestone town, and now nomad camp...if this pattern keeps up, I should be visiting someone in their cave-home by the end of the month.

My bored mind wandering gives that tangent a bit more thought then it deserved, and actually deemed it fairly likely. After all, the chance that one of the dungeons my patrons had mentioned both held something I might want, and was located in some kind of cave system, were pretty good. Looking at the signs of the way these taurs lived, actually ended up distracting me from something that probably should have been more pertinent: the nature of the people there. Namely, the fact they were all apparently female. From one two who I accompanied, to the random person who appeared to busily knapping away away until she caught a glance of me-and then her flintwork seemed much less significant.

This pattern continued until even as I followed the pair to what I presume was the leader of this place to discuss something. I mean, she was the oldest one here, was a shaman, and had a few guards at the entrance to her place who crossed spears to indicate I was not to follow, so I think it's a safe presumption. Honestly, the fact they did it was almost hilarious, because of how much they were nervously trembling as they did so. Level 3 warriors acting like they had a slightest chance in heck of stopping me, though all involved knew that it was only politeness stopping me from barging in.

I decide to flex my new ability to form my flesh into mimicries of objects in my Form Library by looking through an actual eye without being in a human form. I had a few to choose from, so I go with the one that seemed like it would be the least crap. That would be the eye of a hunting cat-which slowly budded open on the end of a tendril, forming a new center field of vision on my mind-like an odd version of what you might get if you wore glasses over only one eye. Honestly, massive downgrade. Compared to the sight I'm used to, it was nearsighted and colorblind, making everything fuzzy and brown. I mentally append something with good eyes to the list of things I want to eat and acquire-a list that only grows longer as I think about it.

But anyway, it did help reinforce my suspicion-that the conversation occurring between the corpse, daughter and shaman, was being unnaturally silenced. I hadn't heard a thing since they first entered past the posts, and could peer to see they were definitely talking among themselves despite that. Whatever the topic was, it seemed grim enough, if the shaman's crow-feet lined face was any indication.