What do they mean by magic? perhaps it's just advanced technology that they don’t understand. How advanced would it have to be though? If it's so advanced why hasn’t lesser versions found their way here? Could there be some centralized control over it? Am I in a world where a massive conspiracy is keeping people from having modern technology, or is it more plausible that magic is real? Maybe I’m giving this too much thought. I’m sure the answers will make their way to me in due time. I have something else, that’s more material and within reach, to investigate anyways.

   The blade of grass from yesterday. Under the light of the sun, the coloration is a metallic gray with strong hints of green. Testing the grass’s properties I find that it gives off a dull ring when flicked, and is also conductive. A metal piece of grass.

   Could someone have made it? If they did there should be traces.

   Looking closer using telescopic vision, I see the organic structures that couldn't possibly be artificially created. It's a genuine blade of grass, but with a lot of metal content. Applying pressure on it causes the grass to snap again. It is fragile. Though this brittle nature is derived from how thin and full of impurities it is.

   Returning to where I found the grass and examining the area, I find the other half that broke off when I stepped on it. However, this broken blade is not growing out of the ground, instead it’s merely laying on it. Leading me to conclude that It's not from here. Where I’m standing is the edge of the treeline. The wards are a ways further out. Making this unlikely to be the doing of a monster.

   From above me comes a cacophony of crowing. Alerted by the sound I pull back my hood and peer up. Bird nests clutter the nearest tree to me. While looking up at the many stares from a flock of black birds, I notice more metal grass entwined in their homes. The Crow like birds begin their cacophony again, but this time it sounds closer to laughter. As though they mock me for being flightless unlike them, but they’re the fools that have converted their tree into a lightning rod.

   Having solved the mystery of how the grass got here, I am still plagued by need for more answers with no means to get them. Picking up some sticks I move to a position farther from the tree, getting away from the noisy birds. Taking a seat, I begin whittling away at the wood. After a while I hear the sound of small footsteps sneaking up on me. Clumsy, but even if they weren’t I'm confident my ears would still catch them. Continuing to carve out some wooden cutlery, the sound of the footsteps come to a stop. With my hood still down, I can feel their eyes peering at the back of my head. Being unaware of this person's intentions, I prepare myself readying to dodge in case of an attack.

   “I saw you!” Comes the voice of a mischievous child. Likely excited to see my face without the hood.

   The tension leaves my body. “Yes, Susa you have.”

   She points at me, “No, I saw you that night!”

   My late night patrols haven't gone unnoticed it seems, “I do sometimes take night walks.” But I don’t take any lights with me.

   Sounding accomplished she replies “I saw you on the night before the empty moon!”

   The new moon, but that was... She saw me the first night, but how!? Other than her candle, it was near darkness. But, a more biting though is how do I play it off? She's still young so I should be able to easily fool her. Just try making up a story. Yes that should work, “I was passing by when I found this village, but I still had things to tend to before stopping here.”

   She tilts her head back in a rather childish dramatization, “Why was you wearing different clothes?”

   Isn't she a little old to be messing up her words that badly? “They weren’t as tough, and couldn’t withstand monster attacks.”

   Her interest peaks at the word monsters, “What monsters have you fought?”

   Quite the scatterbrain child. Already onto a different topic. Didn’t even need to lie, beyond omitting some details. Deceiving her is too easy, “Many, but they were quite scary, and ugly!”

   I begin regaling her with some tales of the inhuman foes I’ve fought. At least the tales that don't burden me, and in a manner better befitting the telling of a child. The time flies but before, the sky is growing dark and the time comes that she should depart arrives. Looking to my carving progress I’ve only managed to make a spoon and half a fork. My speed slowed with the story-telling.

   Checking on Dalp before heading home, I’m informed by his wife of how he’s healing up. She doesn’t seem intent on letting anyone near him.

   I hope he’s not dead in there, and she's playing pretend with his corpse. I jest, but surely it's not healthy to keep him locked up so much.

   Stopping in front my house, there’s a parchment bound package. It’s soap, they must have made sure I got my share. A thoughtful act, but I still need a washcloth and basin if I want to use it. I’m also not inclined to use it with the oil and soot stained, shit rag. Setting the soap inside I hit the hay, literally.

   A new day starts, and so does my morning routine. Bringing the water I’ve purified for the day outside, I’m greeted by two new faces. Foreigners that I am certain are not from this village. One is a man wearing leather armor and cap with a some iron plating. He also has a two handed sword holstered at his side. The other person is a young woman wearing a green robe and a pointed hat made of straw. Her hair is a yellow or exceedingly vibrant blond. She appears to be unarmed.

   The woman starts speaking, with an upbeat tone. “We need you to guide us through the forest, O’dryad”

   Dryads seem to be a more well known mythos than I expected. “Why, and who are you people?”

   Pointing to herself and the man, “We’re guild contractors, and are here to fulfill an inquiry.”

   Well I can at least here them out, “What inquiry?”

   She returns her arms to her sides, “The one posted to the guild by Baron Dujen, about a polluted water supply.”

   The letter the merchants delivered probably, “That was over a month ago.”

   At the mention of this she withdraws abashed¹feeling or caused to feel uneasy and self-conscious by my words, “Not many people want to take jobs of this manner. It requires specific expertise, is not very exciting, and doesn’t pay well.”

   Reasons I myself might have used, “I understand, but why are you at my house?”

   Her voice regains the upbeat tone, “We actually arrived late yesterday, and met with the village head.”

   Seems like everyone meets him, “I’m sure he was hospitable.”

   She beams, “He is and he let us stay the night. When we told him we needed a guide to help us with performing a land survey, he told us to ask the town hunter to guide us. But, he’s apparently injured. So we were then told to come to you.”

   Wonder if that a sign of laziness or trust that I was given this opportunity, “A land survey?”

   her replies annoyance staining her voice, “Without high-end equipment it's impossible to go inside the well, and trace the source of the pollution from there. So, we can only search the surrounding area. Hoping that we find something.”

   What kind of equipment would even let you do that? And this other guy has yet to say anything either, “I can guide you, but I have more questions for you to answer. Such as, why hasn’t your friend said anything?”

   Finally speaking up the man responds, “I’m a supervisor that's here to watch her performance. I will not provide aid in her job.”

   Of course the only person willing to do a unpopular job is the one that’s looking for a good evaluation, “Well I need to get this water set next to the well, and then collect my stuff before I can guide you.”

   The girl politely replies, “Thanks, we’ll be waiting for you at the village entrance.”

We part ways.