"So what are your thoughts, Merlan?"
"Deep. Very Deep." the halfling replies absentmindedly.
The wizard shakes his head briefly, once more irritating his hat's rider.
"Oh. OH nothing much. I was just pondering 'Two Plus Two', and FINALLY realized the answer wasn't Four!"
Merlan climbs back atop 'Tiny's' riding saddle, the easier to look the elf in the eyes.
"Well, I finally slowed down enough to stop reacting, and actually THINK for a moment. And I remembered that Fae in general, and Bloodthorns and Quicklings in particular, are fond of heavily wooded areas. Think 'Forest' over 'several trees'. And are rarely found too far from a decent sized patch of heavy woods. Of which there are NONE anywhere nearby."
"I mean, I suppose a farmer or two might have a little grove of fruit trees, it's not like we were given the deluxe tour when we arrived."
"Also, the plants which give the Bloodthorns their namesakes, are also not going to be found in this relatively desolate flatlands and scrub-brush. Again, you need 'Woods'."
Merlan gives the group a wry half-smile.
"Soooo, I have new theory. And You aren't going to like it any more than I do."
Merlan holds up a dexterous, if pudgy, finger.
"One. Our Fae 'friends' aren't native to the region. They're transplants. From a fair distance away. Given that the last real set of woods we saw coming here was where we found that weird magic acorn. What was that? 2 days travel if mounted?"
The wizard holds up a second finger as his half-smile fades.
"Two, Either 'someone' hired them to travel a great distance to cause an undue amount of trouble for such a small township. Kind of like our Summoner friend was hired to deal with us. OR,..."
The typically cheerful wizard's face turns dour, his large hat brim casting his eyes into deep shadow as he slowly, almost ominously, raises a third finger.
"OR,... They are also victims in all of this. Driven out of their Forest homes by an increasingly aggressive orcish expansion. Unfortunately, they aren't your typical, peaceful, refugees. And 'Fae gotta Fae', as my uncle used to say."
The halfling shrugs.
"Either way, for whatever reason, you have a group of malicious Fae who are used to dealing with wilds teeming with beasts mundane and magical to keep them both busy and entertained, who suddenly find themselves in essentially the middle of NOwhere, and with nothing better to do but torment, torture and otherwise enact whatever thoughts pop into their malicious little minds upon this small town of hapless humanoids. Because that's just what Fae do. They are what they are. Moving to a different location, willingly or otherwise, will not change that."
Merlan snorts a small laugh.
"Heck. WE'RE the most exciting things that have happened to this Quickling and his little group of Merry Madmen since they got here. No wonder he's going so all-out with all of his 'pranks'. He must have been BORED til we arrived!"
Merlan looks around.
"What?!? I TOLD you you weren't gonna like it!"
Squeaks hides his head under a wing.
Eloen listens intently, occasionally nodding along.
"This fits with the conspiratorial theory that someone is deliberately trying to drive a wedge into this community, to split it so that it will be easier to attack and conquer because people here will be too busy fighting each other to defend their neighbors," she says.
"Where they are originally from may not be relevant right now. What we really need to figure out are, where have they been staying? Where did they go after they carried out this pernicious attack? And what clues can we find that might lend evidence to how this attack actually happened?"
"You know as well as I—probably better, really, since I presume you have more of an education—that while we might be looking for clues that support one specific point of view of ours, really we need to be open to any evidence we can find, and then we need to follow it where it takes us. The reality of what happened may not be what we imagined. People could be mind-controlled, or teleporting, or shape-shifting. Any number of possibilities present themselves. We just need to find as many clues as we can and then narrow down to the simplest possibility left after eliminating the ones that the clues tell us didn't happen."
Merlan almost bounces in Tiny's saddle in excitement. His head nods rapidly in agreement, (At least with something that Eloen said) causing his oversized hat to flap aggressively, and Squeaks to clutch the brim for dear life.
"Yes, YES! THAT! It is far too easy to make 'facts' fit 'theories', instead of allowing the facts to determine the theories! I MAY have been guilty of such, once or twice,... But once you use the facts to eliminate the impossible, then whatever is left, however improbable, MUST be the truth!"
Merlan looks quite pleased with himself, (Despite the fact he essentially just re-phrased exactly what Eloen just said.)
"We should continue. Post-haste. We must investigate the barn where,... she was found,... and see what the clues really tell us. Not what they first appear to say."
"As far as where the mini-misfits are hiding out? Seems to me that most creatures, mortal or fae, tend to be creatures of habit. Familiar is always more comfortable. Maybe we see if any of the farmers have any fruit trees? A small grove would be better than flatlands to those used to forests."
Merlan kicks Tiny into gear, and the furry mount obediently pads forward at a decent pace.
FIRST! We have to figure out what really happened, and prove the young lad's innocence, or guilt, without a doubt. THEN, I dust off my old tracking skills,..."
At the last, Merlan turns to give Eloen and the rest a smile and a wink.
But the smile is sharp, and Eloen recognizes that glint in the halfling's eye. The look of a hunter.