Here he was, traveling all by his lonesome.  It was something of an unusual occurrence, since there were always travelers to be found who welcomed someone with a bit of woodcraft and the extra security provided he provided with his hunting bow.  It didn't hurt that he was a fair shot and could usually bring something to the cook fire each night.  Signod even tended to enjoy the company of fellow travelers, even if most of them were truly unappreciative of his talent with music.  Most recently, some merchant who had taken him on as a guide/guard had described it along the lines of "sandpaper across his eardrums".  Humans.  Didn't know good from bad.

At any rate, he wasn't here for coin at the moment.  He was after something more lasting.  Perhaps it would amount to nothing but he had caught wind that there was the potential for glory here.  It seemed all the local folk were positively buzzing with gossip, all centered around some mysterious shooting star seen coming down in this forest within the past couple days.  The wild abandon of the rumor mill had churned out all sorts of explanations, ranging from apocalyptic planetary alignments to divine (or profane) intervention.  Either way, Signod knew how these stories went, and he knew beyond shadow of doubt that the main character of those stories always ended up being the one who found the fallen star first.  Now, there was always the risk that his story would end up with a title of "Signod the foolhardy" should some of the more dire rumors ended up being true.  If that were the case, then his would be the tale told to children that was tied to some sort of cautionary tale regarding unreserved curiosity.  Still, if you never took risks, you would never reap the best of rewards- at least he would be remembered for something.

There was one other thing that a number of rumors seemed to agree on.  The talk was that the animals had all disappeared, or else gone completely silent.  As he mulled that over, he did note that he had seen no wild animals the entire duration of his journey thus far.  That is, until it began to grow dark and the reassuring flashes of fireflies began to crop up among the gathering dusk to the accompaniment of crickets.  These familiar animal activities comforted him, demonstrating to him that the rumors were concerning the wildlife poofing away like some sort of Fae magic had taken hold of the forest were clearly wrong.  Nay, the real reason he hadn't seen anything up until now was almost certainly due to him stomping around far too loudly and startling any small game away before he even caught a glimpse.  Chiding himself both for getting caught up by crazy rumors and scaring away his potential supper with his carelessness, he continued on his way.

Before too much longer he began to hear sounds from up ahead.  Not the sounds of most animals he might expect to encounter in these woods.  Rather, it sounded like voices.  Yes, voices for sure- he could pick out several different people talking.  Fortunately, they didn't really sound like what he would expect if he were about to walk into an ambush by brigands.  If that happened to be where fate was taking him, he expected he would hear nothing up until the scraping of steel on leather announced the drawing of weapons and the trap snapping shut.  Still, it never hurt to be cautious.  With that thought in mind, he rounded the last bend in the trail leading towards the voices, bringing a set of crossroads into full view.

For a moment, all Signod could do was stand there blinking at the spectacle.  He was used to running into diverse groups in his travels, but this was something on an entirely different level.  He wracked his memory briefly, trying to recall if the mushrooms he had foraged earlier in the day could have possibly possessed any hallucinogenic properties without his realizing.  No, that probably wasn't it, which meant that this was probably real.  Mayhaps he had happened across a troupe of carnival folk?  "A human, an elf, a blind monk, a mermaid, a gnome, a drunken owlbear..." he grumbled under his breath.  Heaving a sigh he stepped towards the bizarre assortment, "...and a dwarf bumped into each other at the crossroads."  There had to be a joke in there somewhere.  He primary concern was that he might not like the punchline.

"Well, I have no weapons drawn and I thank you all to follow my example."  he spoke aloud, holding up two gnarled hands to demonstrate the truth of his words.  "Got no real possessions of value, 'sides my hunting bow and no coin purse on me."  They still might be brigands, just a highly irregular group who relied on their peculiar composition to put their victims off guard.  "Rest of my party has me out scouting and will expect me back before long.  If I don't get back in good time, they mean to turn around and head back to town with triple the normal guard, so I expect we'll have no funny business."