[h3]Where Are All Muh Onions[/h3]
[i]Featuring the incomparable Greenie[/i]

[hr]
Farmer Jack sat in a chair outside of his home like he always did, this time of the afternoon. A pipe in one hand, and an ale sat on the table beside him. He stared out with a furrowed brow before him, at his fields. His precious farm had been trampled and strewn through. A whole batch of onions missing from their place.

Lines of onion shaped holes was all that was left. Holes and trampled grass. The elderly imperial grumbled under his breath, a vicious curse that he was glad his wife was not around to hear, she’d likely scold him for his sour tongue yet again. She had no patience now, did Carla - for she’d had to pick up the pace in washing the other citizens clothing in order to make coin. More furious still was she to learn that her husband was offering a precious thirty Septims to deal with the supposed thief.

Truthfully, Carla was glad for the missing onions - even if it meant more work for her, at least Jack wasn’t carrying that awful stench through their home anymore. At least Jack himself didn’t smell to high heavens of them too. “Feckin’ onions,” she cursed herself from inside the home, scrubbing through the less than pleasant underwear of a drunkard….

Hopefully, someone would be along to end the whole affair soon enough, for better or for worse. 

"G'day!" The silence surrounding the brooding farmer was broken by Meg's chirp voice as she trotted over to where the man was sitting, an amiable smile lighting her face as usual. There had been plenty of other missions to chose from, some that sounded rather grand in fact, but helping out a farmer with his woes hit close home for Meg. She too, along with her father, had shared farming troubles for the years they lived in Whiterun, and if she could do something to help aleviate this man's pain, she was more than happy to!

"M'name's Meg," she continued as she finally made it before him, one arm akimbo while her other hand reached out, offering to shake his hand in greeting. "Heard ye've been havin' trouble with yer crops? I'm here t'help out with that!"

Behind Meg--nowhere near as amicable as a person as she--was Aud, the other, taller Nord of the group. After Meg had introduced herself, Aud moved up and gave a nod to the farmer. “Likewise. I’m Aud.” She’d never been quite as verbose as Meg, and so she decided to get right down to brass tacks, cutting to the heart of the matter: 

“Do you have any ideas who might be taking the onions? Are they taken during the day or night? Is it only onions, or do other crops go missing too?”

"Aeg? Mud?" Jack replied, scratching his head before sighing, trying to think of how best to answer the curious women. "No feckin' idea, no other feckin' crops," he explained with a squint. "If I had to guess I'd say it'd be a witch! Takin'em for potions!" Jack huffed. "She's got tiny feet whoever it is, tiny tiny shoes…" he sighed.

"If yer really here to check it out, there's footprints in the field but they don't lead anywhere at all," the farmer shrugged. "So yer up to the task then?" 

Aud glanced at Meg. “I’m good at tracking. If there’s any kind of trail to find, I’ll find it.” 

Then she redirected her eyes at Jack and nodded once.“Show me.” This wasn’t…[i]precisely[/i] what she’d expected when she’d joined an adventuring guild, but hey, anything for companionship, right? And it wasn’t like it was hard or anything. She was pretty sure that between her skill in tracking and the enhanced sense of smell that came with her curse that if there was a trail, any at all, it wouldn't escape her notice.

Meg didn’t have a nose like Aud did, nor was she the best at tracking, but she was eager to help, so she nodded along. “I’m up for the task!” she replied, looking from the farmer to her roommate. Frankly she found the Skald fascinating, having heard about them but never having met one in person. It would be nice to make another friend, at least, she hoped that would happen.

“Aye, let’s get goin’ then, eh?” She didn’t wait more than a second before starting off on her own for the fields, though she kept her pace slow so the others wouldn’t be too far behind.

[hr]

Jack had lead them out into his field, and as he had described, all that was around them was a series of empty holes in the ground that once house onions, and a trail of tiny footprints.

Suspiciously round, hoof-shaped footprints. Anyone with any skill, or knowledge of wildlife at all would know them to be the work of an animal. Jack, however, still stared down at them, bewildered by the small size and the dainty shape.

“Some feckin’ shoes!” He huffed as he pointed at them, leading the two women to the fence where the trail only continued onwards and down toward the forest. “She retreats that’a’way— into darkness at night wheres no one will follow her… That’s why I’ve hired you, to chase this thief down!” 

Blinking at the footprints, Meg wondered whether the farmer perhaps had weak eyes, because those certainly didn’t look like the footprints of any person, not even a Khajiit’s or Argonian’s. Still, she didn’t want to offend the farmer and sabotage not just hers but Aud’s chance at completing a mission and making gold. “Well these should be easy ‘nough t’follow, righ’ Aud?” She looked away from the hoofprints to her guildmate instead, eyes widening, hoping the Skald woman wouldn’t mention that the farmer wasn’t completely right.

Aud opened her mouth to give a withering rebuke to the farmer who thought the clearly-animal prints belonged to a thief. After all, what kind of animal had both the motive and the [i]will[/i] to intentionally steal onions night after night?

And then the words stuck in her throat as she realized [i]exactly[/i] what kind of animal might be sapient enough to be called a thief. One that...well, one that was like her. It could be an animal, or it could be a lycanthrope. And if it were a lycanthrope, then she wanted to find them. She wanted to find them and kill them. [i]Damn all of Hircine’s hounds,[/i] she thought grimly, before giving a nod to Meg and turning to Jack. “Give me a day, and I’ll have the thief.”

Then she turned away and began following the prints into the trees. As she did, she opened her mouth slightly, breathing deeply and scenting the air. 

As she followed the scent--unfamiliar to her--and the trail, she found it surprisingly difficult to actually keep track of it. It wound around, and she nearly lost it once or twice; but after a few hours of doubling and tripling back, she saw something that wasn’t altogether natural in the woods: a cart.

“Meg,” she hissed, dropping low to the ground, “look. Cart, run into a rock. Care.”

From over yonder, behind the cart, a simpler being was enjoying a late lunch. A late lunch comprised of Farmer Jack’s precious onions. Each bite was strangely dainty, but the bitter vegetable made a loud crunch in the jaws of the beast as it huffed out in satisfaction. 

Without warning, the creature stopped, lifting its head up above the cart — as if it had sensed it was being watched. From Megana and Aud’s vantage point, they would see the face of a brown, bearded goat appear. It’s amber eyes searching frantically perhaps for a predator. Sensing nothing, the Onion Thief bleated out before returning to her happy pile of onions. The delicious, pungent, and wonderful onions. 

"Tha' ain' no person," Meg whispered to Aud under her breath, not wishing to scare away the hooved creature. "Looks t'me like a goat!" She raised a hand to her head, mussing her brown hair in thought of how to break the news to the farmer. "What d'ya think we should do? Ain' like we can stop a beastie from goin' after the onions."

Narrowing her eyes, Aud pulled a spear from her back quiver. “Well. Whoever’s letting their goat wander out here isn’t a good farmer. Maybe they should be taught a lesson about animals. And a corpse won’t be stealing onions anymore.” She pulled back her arm and aligned her sight picture, preparing to let the weapon fly.

“Wait!” Meg lifted her hand, holding it in the spear’s way, eyes wide as she stared at Aud. “Y’can’ just kill the goat, ain’ its fault if it’s owner was careless in keepin’ it penned up or tied. Maybe we could take the goat over to Farmer Jack himself? Could be they’d take better care of this girl an’ not havta worry ‘bout their onions goin’ missin’.” 

“Fine,” muttered Aud, “that’s probably a better idea.” She replaced the spear, then backed off a few feet. “I don’t know how well I can handle animals. Prob’ly better for you to take him back, yeah?” She turned back in the direction of Bruma. “Jack’s this way,” she said, then walked a little ways before turning back to wait.

Meg let out a quiet sigh of relief. She loved animals, and though she was no stranger to hunting them, it just didn't feel right to kill the goat when it wasn't its fault it went into the farmer's crops because of carelessness. It wasn't as if they [i]needed[/i] to hunt, seeing all their food would be provided for. Fortunately, the Nord woman had a rather interesting looking apple that she used to tempt the goat back to Farmer Jack's place alongside Aud. Though the farmer seemed disgruntled that the thief was a simple goat, the prospect of keeping it seemed to soothe his embarrassment of not recognizing what the thief really was.

All's well that ends well?