The rippling valley of grain, fruiting bushes, and peaking roots silently await the coming rain. The midday skies were dim with clouds casting their gray along the horizon. It is painful for the locals that such an auspicious occasion be sullied by suspicion and fear. This offshoot of one of the great tribes, who tend to the crops that feed the festivities and nomads, have concluded that a hungering beast threatens their very existence. To this cause, a certain creature of great change has arrived to witness his own efficacy.

    Baird travels with a barrel at his back, strapped with handmade ropes that chafe his shoulders. The faint thudding of food stuffs big and small sound in concert with the heavy footfalls of the titanic-sized beastman. At last, he has arrived at his destination, as described by the caravanner who spoke of the recent troubles. An encampment of the Ganaatokee people. The boar approached and spoke with one of the people who came to greet him.

    Within this camp has been described just over a dozen, most human with three centaurs and an elf. The missing were described as well: first a centaur protector, likely taken by total surprise as he was the strongest; second the husband of the remaining elf, who was last seen checking the fields for vermin; and lastly the horse of one of the humans. The morphleon was revealed when the human suspected something of their supposed horse while just leaving camp. The human was greatly wounded, but managed to get back in camp. She mentioned the mimic-monster just before collapsing, now she resides in the medicine tent while she recovers.

    "The haunting part of this all was that many in the camp were away. Tending to the harvest, hunting, practicing, or such. Some in groups, a few alone. It could still be out there, but it could also be anyone of us." the weary tribesman concluded. With a hand wiping his face, a strained remark, "We are at a loss. Our trust holds for now, only because we know it cannot fight many at once."

---

Honey?

So, there was a morphleon in this camp, pretending to fit in. That was a dangerous situation. You could almost say knowing there was a shapeshifter in the camp was more dangerous than knowing only that there was something dangerous. Now everyone would be paranoid to the point of possibly even turning on each other, suspecting innocent members of the group, maybe even killing the wrong person.

This would be very entertaining.

Hylltywyll laid on his stomach, his head nestled in his arms as he watched the meeting from above, his face just peeking over the edge of the roof of a stable set up near the entrance to the encampment. The place was made as if the people here were expecting to pack up and move at any moment. Most of the buildings were just tents with only a sparse few wooden structures like the stable, but even those were made to be quickly deconstructed and carried away.

Having so few solid structures to climb made being sneaky a little more challenging for the tiny Fey, but he could still manage. The cloudy skies gave him plenty of shadow to skulk through, practically invisible thanks to his magic.

If the camp hadn't already discovered that the perpetrator was a shapeshifting morphleon, Hylltywyll would have thought the giant boar-lizard creature was the one eating people, but apparently he was an adventurer here to help solve their problem. Well, if the morphleon tried to ambush and devour that guy, it'd probably have a very hard time. Then again, it did manage to eat a centaur, so who knows? It also had never attacked anyone when they weren't alone. Maybe it was actually pretty weak. Or just cautious.

Either way, Hylltywyll continued watching as the Chief began to introduce the boar creature to the rest of the tribe, gathered by the entrance, one by one. It was a fairly sad group with two of them gone and one of them badly wounded. Their trust might be holding for now, but their morale looked like it wasn't doing so well.

---

One With the Shadows

    The head of the encampment made the call, everyone rounding each other up for the meeting. They set down their tools, several already on their way. The chief began his introduction, "Everyone! I have watched the road as this one climbed from the caravan. He is here to ensure no more of our people are taken by the creature. What is your name, outsider?"

    This outsider cast a glance across the whole camp. The people were visibly tired. All of them made sure to stick in groups for safety. Their leader was a scarred and wrinkled man, it was clear few things would shake him. At the moment, the rest seemed just as wary of the seemingly monstrous beast standing before them. With a remarkably gentle tone, "I am Baird Sickleclaw. I hope to return your peace of mind swiftly." Immediately the tensions eased, replaced by a handful surprised that he talks. Baird bows, "The job requires I observe, primarily. Work with me and things will go back to normal." The most assuring Baird can be. Let's hope it is enough to smooth things along.

    The leader continued with a reserved smile, "Welcome, Baird. I am Sot'yey, the elder here." He held an arm to the audience before them both, his other gripped behind Baird's forearm, "Despite the situation, we endure without letting suspicions-" Just as he says that last word, his index and ring fingers alternated a squeeze into Baird's arm. "-get the better of our unity. The guilty-" There it was again, "-will surely be rooted out. Here!" From there he introduces each member of the community. What stood out was when Sot'yey got to three humans standing shoulder to shoulder. "Then there are the three brothers: Yom-" index, "-Fen-" ring, "-and Vud'Roi." index. He moved on to the next without breaking the flow.

    As the introductions concluded, he thanked the beastman investigator, then bid everyone to return to their duties. "We believe the monster to be very attentive, astute, you could say. Great ears. Keep your cards close to your chest." Sot'yey patted Baird's arm as he walked to help someone with weaving a net.

    Baird watched everyone tend to each other. When this is over, he was sure these are the people he'd love to cook for. Once he was confident that the three brothers made it inside their tent, out of sight, he leered after them. He paused to formulate some kind of plan. However, he was sadly more of a 'broad strokes' kind of problem solver. No tricks up his sleeve for finer methods of deduction or persuasion.

Hylltywyll tilted his head slightly as he saw the village chief gripping the back of Baird's- apparently that was the boar creature's name, or at least what he introduced himself as- arm. Was that some sort of signal? It looked like the chief had his suspicions of the morphleon being one of these three brothers. If it really was, that'd be very daring for the morphleon.

The fae creature could definitely morph itself into a perfect copy and they're intelligent enough to mimic common personality traits, but to plant itself with two others who should be extremely familiar with their own sibling? One little slip-up and it would be discovered. Just how long did this morphleon watch this village before it caught one of the brothers alone? And why was the chief suspicious of one of the brothers?

This was pretty juicy. This was much better than any of those boring plays Hylltywyll snuck into. Ugh, so many of the newer ones treated the audience like they had the attention span of a toddler and the memory of a goldfish. This was much better. The mystery. The intrigue! Now this was some real entertainment.

Hylltywyll stood up and followed along behind Baird. If this was the investigator here, then he'd have the best time following from this perspective. Maybe if his curiosity got the better of him or things got boring, he could do his own investigating. Being able to watch people when they think they're alone is a good way to possibly catch the morphleon, but that wouldn't be very fun. Where was the excitement in just catching the killer in the act so soon?

No, no. He could wait a little longer and see how this big boar investigated.

    Baird sets down his barrel near the front of the simple fencing that makes up the gate towards the road. While over that way, he turns his eye to meet one of the tribesman. In a silent moment, there is an understanding on their face. With his hands still near the barrel, Baird points a finger from the opposite side, towards the brothers' tent. A nod and a bow, disguised as a greeting. "Pleasure." he returns. It seems this isn't a secret, per se.

    A clatter of noises pervades the encampment. Some carving wood, others braiding ropes. From the brothers' tent comes a scraping sound, the distinct hollow noise of scraping the flesh from hides. Without any better idea, Baird follows the scraping. Already he could see a shadow move from the opening flap. This whole situation made the spines in his fur agitate. Why was everything so tense?

    The structure was much more akin to a small yurt in this case, structural wood forming a cylinder wall with a dome top. Coarse fabric sheathed the whole exterior, with a cutout rolled down to form an entryway. It was just big enough to have trade equipment inside. As Baird closed the distance, he called out, "Uh- good day! Pardon my asking, but is it fine if I enter?" He waited just outside the tannery.
    
    A few seconds of quiet that felt much longer. "You are alright! Come in." The invitation was genial. Supposedly ordinary.

    Tentatively opening the flap and peering in, Baird could see the whole interior. First thing noticeable was the expectedly horrid stench that comes with preparing the skins. Otherwise plain, aside from a decent number of fur rugs and pillows rippling across the ground. At one table stood Yom, who faced at a 45^o away, mixing solutions. Fen sat beside a length of leather wrapped around a wood shape. Perhaps a quiver? At the rack with a scraping tool was Vud'Roi, who stopped to wave. They each acted as though nothing pressing was going on, but they had tired disheveled looks to them.

    Baird took some time to formulate what to say. Is this the time to be convivial as usual? Maybe just barge in and start a scrap out the gate? He pondered for a time. This neutral start meant either party could break the weighty silence.

Well, he was straight to the point, if nothing else. Hylltywyll watched as Baird immediately went to the tent on the outskirts of the camp that the three brothers had gone into.

Hylltywyll's nose scrunched up and he made a disgusted face as he was hit by the smell inside the tent. Rotting hides, the foul chemicals used for tanning, and a hint of sweat from the intense labor of scraping the fat off and moving the hides from place to place. Hylltywyll put his hand over his mouth and ran back outside and far enough to get away from the nauseating stench.

He grumbled to himself and looked at the tent from a distance. How was he supposed to watch the investigation now? How the hell did that boar stand that stench? He was missing everything! Ugh, no, this was fine. Just another part of the show. He wouldn't know what they said in the tent, but that'd just increase the suspense, the mystery. Unless one of the brothers really was the morphleon and got killed in there and he missed it. A rather anticlimactic ending. He'd need to do something.

Inside the tent, the three brothers looked at each other and then Baird silently. They all knew why the adventurer was in ther tent, and that made them all uncomfortable. He was here looking for the morphleon, everyone in the camp knew that after the introduction from their chief. The fact he was investigating their tent could only mean one thing. He thought one of them could be the creature eating their friends and family, and that would mean one of them was eaten by it as well.

How were they supposed to approach this conversation at all? Convince the adventurer they were wrong, and that it wasn't one of them? But, what if it was? They silently waited for Baird to start the conversation.

    This hadn't been Baird's first brush in with these things, but he hadn't really had to deduce who it was, nor does he really remember what it was like to fight. It was such a blur at the time. One thing is for sure: if this morphleon could take down a centaur with a surprise attack, Baird has to be sure he has the right target in his grasp. If he shows it his back now, someone is probably going to die. Not an option. It began to ache the beastman to squeeze so long in this short space. He was getting a bit fed up with the awkward silence, too. "Yom, Ven, Fud'Loi; I've co-"

    "Ha! Don't mean to interrupt, but that's not right. I'm Vud'Roi and that's Fen over there." Both brothers looked at Vud'Roi with upturned brows.

    Yom raised his hand and smirked with an apologetic face, "Got my name right, though! Yom."

    Fen looked to Baird with more naked concern, "Please continue. We certainly want to know what the plan is." 
    
    Baird's eyes narrowed at the three, but he continued with as cordial a tone as he could muster, "I've come to hear your stories about what happened. Seeing as this is the most remote teepee, you might-" 

    With an indignant expression this time, "Ger. Our trade is conducted in a ger."

    "This isn't the time to grill outsiders for their ignorance of terms."

    "Yes, we can hardly expect any passerby to know everything about our people. How far have you come, Baird? If I may ask."

    Seemingly, this was already going nowhere. Baird's brow now curled into a simmering mood, "I have travelled all over, but my home is in the Marsh Flats. I am Palugen."

    All three nodded, Vud'Roi smiling at hearing this. "Right, that is not terribly far. In that case, my apologies. Continue, please!" 

    Clearing his throat, "I am just looking to get everyone's alibi. This ger is the furthest, and I want to work from one side of the settlement to another. Fen, where have you been during the horse attack?"

    Fen swallowed hard, "Okay, um.. I-I was with Vud'Roi, collecting the hides of the hunts as they were coming in. Skin is much better to work while still warm, you know? We had our tools set up at a collection spot closer to the grounds. I was carving the meat while Vud'Roi ran the hides back to Yom in camp."

    "I was carving and you were doing the running, how'd you get that backwards?"

    Fen fidgeted his hands and made a fearful face, "Well, y-y-yeah! But we traded places because my legs felt weak after a bit, remember? So I was with the knife at around the time the attack happened."

    "Yom, you were still in camp when the attack happened?"

    "Yeah! I was fleshing the hides here. I heard the scream from outside while working. When I went to see what had happened, I saw Sot'Yey helping our injured rider to get treatment. I don't have anyone who was watching me, but I locked eyes with our leader in that moment. He'd tell you, I'm certain!"

    "Anyone else around while parting the animals?"

    "Just the occasional drop off. We kept a tally for who was the better hunter."

    "Guyu or M'teka?"

    "Surn!"

    "Finally! I knew she could beat 'em out this time."

    More derailment with little progress. At least Yom is likely innocent, if Baird could confirm with Sot'yey? Baird had enough, "This isn't the time for counting winning hands. There is a deadly monster in your home, this camp. Who is it?"

    Each sibling took a moment to look at Baird with worry, then glanced back at each other and the floor.

    "It's Fen. His legs weren't weak, we danced that morning and he said he was feeling great. He never reached me with any batches of furs."

    Fen kept his eyes on the floor. Vud'Roi dropped his scraping knife while inching towards the way out. Yom followed suit. Baird readied himself, he didn't know what to expect. As he stood up, a series of great stings surged across his back paired with sharp pains on each thigh. Teeth, large teeth started digging into him while something cut his legs. Baird fell back down to his knees. In front of him, Fen seemed crestfallen without looking up.

    "If you go down, we keep our brother. If we didn't trick you, it'll be either Yom or I instead. I'm s-so sorry.."

Hylltywyll shook his head. He was watching the scene unfold inside the tent, the two humans throwing themselves at Baird to stop him from killing the morphleon. He saw it all through Baird's own eyes, his mind connected to the giant boar man's through a little, ever so slightly invasive magic. This was good for him. He could continue to watch the show without actually being in the disgusting-smelling tent. He could also smell through Baird's nose using the same magic, if he wanted to, but he definitely did not. Sight and sound were enough right now.

"Hmph. Morons..." Hylltywyll muttered to himself, crossing his arms. The two humans were just idiotic in his eyes. Protecting the thing that ate their own brother and was continuing to eat more and more of their friends and fellow villagers. For what? Because it looked and sounded like their brother now? It was just pathetic. How could humans be so irrational? If they were in their right minds, they should be the first people to attempt to kill the morphleon, to avenge their sibling.

While Yom and Vud'Roi held onto Baird, the Fern lookalike began to transform. His entire front split open as he began to grow, opening into a massive mouth filled with pointed teeth. Skin became more red and arms elongated.

    The morphleon grew. And grew. Bladed tentacles erupt from a sea of roiling purple flesh. Even now, there was something off about the beast. Whatever it was doing with guise and trickery made little sense until the grand reveal, which presented the unfortunate truth that Baird had been forming in the back of his mind. Just like himself, it was a gargantuan specimen more dangerous than a handful of game hunters could handle. On a series of multi-jointed legs, this gaping maw was unfurled and poised to strike.

    Baird's legs struggled to move against the surprise attack, there wasn't going to be an escape even when he breaks free. The monster bolts forward with speed far in excess of its size. The shock tells the boar to do something, quick! Two arms spread ahead to catch the beast at the edge of its mouth. A tooth shot through his right palm with a surge of pain. This yurt was suffocating, in more than just smell.

    With his lower pair, he sends his fists up from beneath. All of his strength, he carries the monolithic mimic-kin off its feet and over his shoulder. The thing tears through the walls of the canvas structure. Inadvertently, the careening creature was seemingly going to land right on top of Hylltywyll.

Hylltywyll let out a yelp of surprise as the tent wall tore open and the morphleon came flying toward him. He quickly threw up a wall of light between him and the incoming morphleon before it could crush him. With a thud, the creature bounced off the wall and landed sprawled on the ground.

Shouts started to sound out throughout the camp as everyone walking around saw the monster out in the open, slowly standing back up. A few of the hunters pulled spears off their backs and approached, not wanting to let the creature disappear and disguise itself among them again. It was obvious this was the horrid thing that had been attacking and eating their friends, and they wouldn't let it go now that it was exposed.

The less fighting-capable villagers ran off to tell everyone what was happening. One woman ran straight to the chief's yurt. Others went to get more hunters and guards.

Hylltywyll didn't like being so close to the literal center of attention now, as everyone was focused on the creature that was right in front of him. They didn't know where the wall of light had come from since he was still nearly invisible in the shade of the dark, cloudy sky above them, but that wasn't their biggest concern at the moment. Hylltywyll teleported away, out of the quickly forming ring of spears and bodies.

Before it could fully recover from being tossed, the morphleon was surrounded. While it was strong enough to handle a few villagers thanks to its size, this was more than a few and the number of people surrounding it would only grow as more kept coming.

---

Blink

    For all of this rigmarole, the sickness of livid emotion poured like a sanguine wine into Baird's heart. Curling a right arm over his left side and vice versa, he gripped at the two brothers and tossed them crashing at the opposite wall. They will be dealt with by their people later. Plucking what seems to be a wriggling potato^[1], Baird took a fierce bite from the raw vegetable before slipping it back into its pouch. His gashes quickly were staunched.
    
    The morphleon meanwhile was scampering to its feet. Now without much means for it to slip away, the tribesmen scrambled to cover any avenue of escape. They coordinated effectively to prod the monster, trying to keep it off-balance, as they would any large predator. Its far-reaching, brawny limbs whipped unpredictably, leaving deep cuts that'd bleed some to death. As it tested their capabilities, some would managed to return such wounds as they held the line. In spite of this setback; the creature was wily, powerful, and convincing. Once it figures a way out of here, it'll devour many more elsewh-

    Baird dug each hoof-clawed hand into the magical beast from behind. Retaliating, it slammed a tentacle spike into his left shoulder and sent more to tear. The adrenalin, pain, and furious anger boiled over within the boar. A wave of force bellowed out from within his bared, misshapen teeth. The sound of a rising, chest-vibrating roar paired with a spine-chilling squeal slashed through the air, until everyone in camp could only hear a bout of deafening tinnitus.^[2] With ruthless vigor, Baird began digging deeper into its flesh. His lower arms kept hold with white knuckles as his upper pair rained down a series of blows that'd shake the ground they stood on. The monster's legs would kick and more sharp bones would scratch, but this moment would become one that foretells of Baird's undesired future. More crashing strikes with bloodied hands and it lost its fight.

    Most of the people still held their hands about their ears as they stared at the mess in front of them. Those still gripping spears held them tighter, unsure of whether the danger passed with the beast or if the beastman would simply replace it. Baird loosed the monster, the slump of its body hit the ground like damp towels. He raised a hand to point in a direction. Those that followed his finger saw a barrel by the pathway out. Speaking with a hoarse, sorrowful tone, "I'm sorry for the scene I've made. Allow me to see myself out. I'm, uh.. not so good a.. detective, it seems."

    Elder Sot'yey approached, placing his hands on the hunters beside him. Many tended to the injured as the tension eased, some cried when it was clear that more were taken by the creature. The chief called out, "The thing that haunted and killed our beloved is dead. Though we have lost cherished children of Ginma, the threat held no sign of slowing its bloodshed without Baird to tear the parasite out as we could not. Let him go, so that we may more swiftly begin honoring those that have passed." Slowly the crowd dispersed. Sot'yey gave a solemn bow to the adventurer along with a few others, then turned to begin the cleanup and rites.

    This afternoon sun was still diffused from far-stretched, swollen clouds. Baird went to grab his ingredients and hoped he could learn from this travesty. Truly a day that taught him to bide his time and differ to others in such delicate situations. 

---

^[1]Enchanted Potato, ^[2]Howls of the Damned (Metaphorical)

The villagers had finished off the monster and avenged the ones it had devoured, but the victory was bittersweet with the final injuries it had caused before it was brought down with Baird's help.

And there was the matter of the two remaining brothers who had covered for and tried to defend the beast that was killing their fellow villagers. Their delusions of keeping their brother alive were no excuse for the pain and sadness they'd willingly let continue.

The village chief didn't take their betrayal lightly and they were taken away to be dealt with later. This was an issue for the village now, and not something to call an outsider to help with, like the morphleon had been. Justice would be delivered, if the family of those the morpheon had consumed had anything to say about it.

Hylltywyll kept an eye on the aftermath, seeing them begin to clean up the corpse of the morphleon to dispose of it. Another fellow fae killed. He wasn't angry about this one. They didn't hunt this one just for being a fae, like some people. It was killing them, so they killed it back. Fair enough.

He crept out of the village and into a shadow, no longer having anything interesting to watch.