Rumors abound around Dalanthar and the Rolling Hills of a very vile little dwarven thug in a skull helm who smashed a pumpkin in the fields outside of a good-hearted, elderly paladin's home. With much malice, the defenseless pumpkin was hoisted high and smashed into the ground amidst maniacal laughter. Foul play is suspected in the poor squash's squashing demise. Prunillites in particular are shocked and dismayed.
In related news, little messenger birds chirp merrily along the Druid Network of a kindly dwarven paragon who fed many a starving crow in the Rolling Hills. Seeing their plight and hunger, he was kind hearted enough to dispatch the menacing tyrant scarecrow which terrorized them and crack open his cackling gourd to release the nourishing seeds within. The birds sing praise to his mercy and feast heartily upon their bountiful supper in the fields outside a miserly old codger's house.
