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Jack, lost boy:

"Okay!" Jack nods happily. "We'll wait here!"

Then Jack plops down cross-legged to wait for Rococo.

"By the way! I'm not human!"

Chauncey perks up at the word "witch," his eyes widening slightly. His mother once had dealings with a detestable crone who, though the word witch was never spoken, could only be described as such. It didn't end well, for either party. He was very young at the time, but, unless it was all a dream, he's almost certain in retrospect that he was to be the object in some sort of arrangement gone wrong. At one point the hag had picked him up, pinched and squeezed him as if... but he wouldn't dwell on that anymore.

A few moments pass with Chauncey lost in memory, a look of dread creeping over his face. But he soon snaps out of it. As Jack sits down: "Erh... shall I Sleep anyone, Jack? Just say the word..."

Jack, lost boy:

"Um. No thanks! I think they're getting someone who can understand us! We should wait here!"

Jack turns back to his pet monkoon and smiles.

The monkoon that Jack can understand nods his head along with the boy. He turns to his other friend on the ground and speaks again.

"I am not sure, but I think this boy is willing to wait for us to go get Rococo. You should go to the tops and see if you can find him. He will know what these oomans are after. I will wait here with them."

With that, the second monkoon leaps back up into the branches with amazing agility and disappears almost instantly as he climbs into the thick branches.

Jack's furry friend sits down across from him a few feet away and grabs a handfull of dirt from the ground. He spits on it a few times to moisten it and then forms it into a tight ball. He tosses the dirt ball to Jack lightly as Zelmin and Sally move back in to join in on this game they have obviously played before.

The monkoon in the tree stays put but continues to watch how things fold out, not sure what to make of all of this attention.

Actions?

Devrin Treesong 9/9 CL, DM, RM, 1/1 first
Alordan 9/10
Saracen Solaris 10/12 2/3 first
Jack 8/10 CL, DM, RM, 1/1 first (CL= .5)
Lightfinger 7/7
Chauncey the Adequate 6/6 CL, DM, RM, 1/1 first

Jack, lost boy:

Jack will let the faerie spell wear off, in case he needs to cast one on Rococo. He's content to get utterly filthy playing mudball with his monkoon buddy, waiting for what comes next with keen anticipation.

Devrin

As the other Monkoon heads into the heights, and the one Jack has been listening to settles in to play, Devrin deduces that we are waiting for something. "OK, Jack," he says. "It looks like we have a few moments. What is going on? Where did the other Monkoon go?"

On the outside Chauncey remains calm and unflappable. On the inside his skin veritably crawls. He wants to be anywhere but here. Anywhere. Finally, without changing his calm expression, he squeaks out, "...Jack, you know that ball is made of spit, right?" It might be just imagination, but a faint shudder seems to move through his body.

Waiting Beats Dying
Late Morning, Hot, Muggy, Buggy

While the children play all manner of muddy, spitty, and other filthy games with the monkoon, the rest of the party just waits. The group grows more impatient as time passes, but there is never any sign of the messengers return.

After a couple hours of sweating and swatting bugs goes by, it becomes rather apparent that the third monkoon isn't going to return. With the onlooking monkoon already long gone, eventually Jacks friend jumps up into a high tree branch and waves at the children, about to climb back to his home in the tree tops.

Actions?

Alordan raises an eyebrow and looks around at the group (a smile still hopefully showing a pleasant demeanor). Quietly he'll ask "What do you guys think we should do...?"

Devrin

"I think we're done for a while," says Devrin. "And I promised these children a meal for all their help."

Looking directly at Alordan, Devrin continues, "As for our efforts, I'd say that unless something happened to the Monkoons that left to find this Rococo, we should try to pick this up later. I'm going to get some food for the children, and something for the Monkoons, as well, and then come back after noon."

Devrin considers for a moment and then adds, "First, Jack you did a good job. Thank you. Second,
everyone else who said to give them food, while I was holding out to see what they wanted, you were right. Food was a good starting point. So, Zelmin, Sally, are you ready to go get something to eat? And where is a good place to buy a meal?"

Saracen shrugs and moves to leave as well. "It's a start. At least they didn't try to hang uounthis time Devrin, or attack anyone. Progress! Let us head back to Beachtown then!" the holy champion says resignedly, and turns to leave, packing up his rations once again and moving out. "They know what we look like and they we are not hostile. They can find us when they want us. However, it might be good to do a bit of teaching in town about these creatures, and how we popped up right in the centre of their home!"

Jack, lost boy:

"Goodbye! See you tomorrow!" Jack waves a filthy little hand to his pet Monkoon.

Before they leave, Jack thanks Devrin and asks the kind, horrific one: "Mr. Monster? If you go hunting for zombies again, I want to go too, please!"

Saracen looks shocked at the thought of taking a child to face undead. He grimaces fearfully and shakes his head. "It's too dangerous lad. Undeath isn't the place for children!"

Jack, lost boy:

Jack scowls and kicks a pebble. "No fair! I never get to do anything!" he mutters.

Midday in Beachtown

With the fun and games now seemingly over, the group begins to head back into the town proper. Most are happy to have at least learned a few new things about these creatures. The kids are thrilled to be shown so much attention and to be offered so much food.

Most of you see Luther and his gang off in the distance. He seems to be calling you over to him, as if he has something important to tell everyone.

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Devrin

"It seems like this young man," nodding to Luther, "Has met Rococo." Devrin offers his hand to Luther. "Well done. I am Devrin Treesong. Very pleased to meet you."

Devrin adds, "OK, it seems the Monkoons have several issues they need our help with. They need us to get the town to stop cutting down their trees. And from my studies, that includes about everything within a mile of town. Not going to be easy"

"And they seem to be having trouble with some kind of monster in the river. Anyone know anything about that?"

"And from what Jack overheard, other Monkoons seem to be having trouble with some kind of 'witch'. And if anyone can add to that, I would be appreciative."

Alordan nods "I think that was successful overall, eh? Allies seem to be in short supply and an army in the trees could indeed be useful. We have seen glimpses of the creature that hunts the shore - it could be trouble and we ought to be careful on how we approach it. Sounds like it does need to be dealt with to provide some needed order to this community...."

No fair! I never get to do anything!

Lightfinger chuckles.

Jack, my good Lad, You may have just done more than anyone who came to this island with you. The Tallfellow doesn't even need to reach up to pat the Lost Boy's back. And we'll need your talent for speaking to the Monkoons when next we meet them.

Chauncey blinks. "Well, that's it then? Hmmm. We should spread the word amongst the villagers not to cut down any more trees until we can identify which ones are safe to prune. That's a logging term, isn't it? Perhaps post a sign at the Hi-Lo. In fact, I will do it myself," he says, as he takes a quill and ink from his pack and begins to write on a parchment as he speaks the words to himself, "On pain of death... from above..." It's a very nice sign, when completed. Perhaps a bit over-embellished with little pictures in the margins. He heads to the Hi-Lo to post it up, saying cheerily to any villagers he passes on the way "No cutting trees on pain of death..."

Stomachs begin to grumble as the sun reaches its apex high in the sky, indicating that the day has now passed from morning into midday.

Many interested parties stop by Raythan's clearing to listen to the tale of Luther as he freely offers information about the monkoons and their desires.

Devrin tries to gain as much information on these thoughts as he can, still very much wanting to help out the intelligent tree dwellers.

Chauncey takes things a step further by writing up a note to warn the villagers to stop cutting down trees in this area.

Not much concern is voiced about the injured and captive Owen, who still lies unconscious 150 feet above the groups head.