[Seasonal Event] Good Gourd

Amalia i'll light a fire in your new shoes The gourds have been driving her slowly mad, popping up in inopportune times and any imaginable place. She has taken to carrying her staff wherever she goes, just in case an unruly pack should cross her path - they make good target practice, so there's that, and a healthy smattering of pumpkin seeds now coats her well-worn boots. On colder days like this the things snap easier, exploding into satisfying bursts of guts and grit, but on warm days the smell of them pervades the area, seeping between boarded walls and oozing into ceiling and carpet. It was on one of these warm days that she first got the idea: why not incorporate the the gourds into her own cooking, strike back against the oppressors, as it were? Amalia has just finished preparing for an afternoon bake when a sound from outside catches her ear. It sounds like a struggle; she snatches up her staff and pops out the door, prepared to combat some new injustice, only to see another wave of gourds bustle past, pursued by a familiar, hulking figure, and disappearing into the alley beside the shop. Without a thought she joins the pursuit, prepared to defend some other poor soul from the march of the pumpkins, the war of the gourds, drawing quickly to a halt as she rounds the corner of the shop. Surprise flashes across the girl's face, followed by wry amusement: the scene is inadvertently comical, a narrow man curled up as a brawny one defends him, both familiar to the entertained baker. Deimos, she is confident, has the situation under control. "Catch some of them whole," the girl calls. "I'll whip up some scones to celebrate your victory." She smiles sympathetically at Rory - this is fortunate, actually, she needs more boots - before swiftly bringing her staff down on a wayward gourd, sending in flying before it can begin to scramble up her leg. image by tambako @ flickr.com