>>6343559>>6343541>>6343504>>6343501>>6343487I glanced at the glowing stuff scattered on the forest floor, then at my crew's worried faces. The merchant's words echoed in my head: Fear makes more fear. Stealing leads to revenge. But a gift... a gift could start a conversation, an invite.
We won't take what isn't ours, I said, my voice steady. And we won't hunt them or run away. I turned to the wagons. Jürgen, get a roll of that cotton cloth—the plain, strong one. Viktor, bring one of the smaller dwarf tools, maybe a hand adze. Something useful, but not a weapon.
Gustav frowned. Are you paying them?
I'm not paying them, I replied, kneeling to carefully put the glowing mushrooms back in their baskets. I'm starting talks. They lost what they gathered because they were scared of us. We're giving them something to make up for it. It's a way of saying hello.
I worked slowly, carefully putting each glowing mushroom back, showing respect for the work that went into gathering them. Anya watched the edge of the forest, bow ready, while Greta watched me with a small, unreadable smile.
Once the baskets were packed again, I took the roll of sky-blue cloth from Jürgen and put it next to them. I put the dwarf hand adze on top of the cloth, its iron head shiny, its wooden handle smooth from being used. A fair swap—work for work, skill for skill.
Okay, I said, standing and wiping my hands. Now we go. We'll camp farther up the creek, where they can't see us. We'll give them time to come back and find it.
We packed up quickly and quietly, the wagons creaking as we moved them about half a mile up the winding creek to a low cliff that hid us. We set up watches, but the rest of the day was just the strange sounds of the forest.
As the sky turned dark purple with streaks of orange, Anya, who was on watch, came back to camp. Her eyes were wide.
They came back, she whispered. All four of them. They saw the gift. They took it—the cloth, the tool, even their baskets. They held the adze like it was special. They kept looking around, jumpy as birds, but they took everything.”
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. The first deal was done. No words said. No trust yet. But a way of talking had begun, even if it was weak. We weren't just monsters anymore. We were strangers leaving gifts.
In this new world, it was our first good mark, not a bad one.
> Maintain our distance and see if they return the gesture with a gift of their own.> Attempt to make more obvious, peaceful contact at dawn near the original meeting place.> Use the opportunity to scout more aggressively now that they've shown themselves to be peaceful gatherers.> Pack up and follow the creek downstream, putting more distance between us and the halflings.> Write in 
