Endor's Terrain

Tarfang panted heavily as he tried his best to keep up with the much younger hunters that had left Bright Tree Village with him. The entire village had seen the smoking metal bird in the sky that had streaked over their tree top home. Only the old captain, who had just recently settled down to officially retire, had recognized the crash landing ship for what it was. Having spent years traveling the galaxy as a renowned space pirate, Captain Tarfang was very worldly, for an ewok. He leaned on his wooden cane for support after nearly tripping over a wooden stump, grumbling irritably in ewokese.

The other ewoks with him set a relentless pace. There were a dozen of them in total, thirteen if you counted the old bag of bones trying to keep up. They were a mix of different fur colours and varying hood styles, but each was carrying a similar length of Endorian red wood that had been fashioned into a long haft, attached to which was a sharpened stone spear tip. Crude perhaps, primitive certainly, but no less deadly for being so. The reason they were rushing was simple. They were hungry. It had been ages since the last time they had been visited by the sky people, and those white shelled ones with the carapace that made such excellent drum sets had been absolutely delicious. They immediately began to fan out as they neared the clearing the ship had set down in. One moment they were visible, the next each experienced hunter had melded with the forest, practically invisible for how well they blended with their surroundings.

Only Tarfang, who was sucking in wind through strained lungs, stood out amongst the sounds of the forest. Well, that and the weathered blue long-coat he wore over his thinning grey fur, and the tri-corn hat atop his head that covered an embarrassing bald patch of fur. There was also a leathery patch covering his empty left eye socket, though that was less remarkable among a battle hardened warrior people such as his. He was also the only ewok carrying modern day technology. Hanging from the right side of his hip was a large holster containing a sawed-off bryar pistol. Every now and then when the lapels of his coat flapped to the side, the ornate handle of a light-foil could be seen glittering from its place against his coat-lining. The elderly ewok took a moment to catch his breath as he neared the clearing and the ship came into view.

Definitely a transport of some sort. He reckoned, squinting with his good eye. Not one he recognized out of hand. The important thing is that it didn't appear to be Imperial. The village could handle pirates and the occasional force of brigands on their own, but the Empire was another matter. Groaning as his old bones creaked, Tarfang got down on his paws and knees, carefully climbing to the edge of the shrub he was hiding in to get a slightly better look. As he watched, the retired captain's good eye managed to spy at least two mungos (non-ewoks) walking around the ship. One was blowing some sort of savoury smoke from a cylinder in held in their hand. The ewoks of the village preferred to use pipes when indulging in Endorian herb, but Tarfang recognized a cigar when he saw one.

Okay, definitely not Imperials, but that still didn't rule out bandits. In the trees above, several ewok hunters moved with unmatched agility and balance, taking up positions on branches high in the air. There was movement beside Tarfang and he turned his head to see the second most senior member of the hunting party, Chief Chirpa, crawl up beside him.





Chirpa continued to look at Tarfang, now with a blank expression on his furry face. The elderly captain palmed his face and shook his head. I'm surrounded by idiots. "Just let me try talking to them first. I'm the only one that speaks basic anyways. If they shoot me, then you can eat them, fair?" The chief appeared to think about this, then nodded his hooded head, before vanishing back into the forest foliage.

Mustering all the courage he had, Tarfang put a hand on his rickety old knee and pushed himself up to a standing position, stumbling his way out of the bush and into the clearing with the ship. He gave his blue long-coat and quick brush, freeing a leaf or two, then rested both of his paws on the gnarled cane of Endorian redwood in his hands. He cleared his throat to draw the humans attention, silently whispering a prayer to the Great Spirit Tree that he wasn't shot on sight.

"Eat you?!" Tarfang's furry face scrunched up incredulously. "That's just a vicious rumour started by the Empire after we blew up their death moon and defeated their military using sophisticated ewok log technology." He stamped the butt end of his cane on the ground to emphasize his point. "I'll have you know that many ewoks happen to be vegetarian." Of course he had never met any, but statistically speaking, they had to be out there. Right? The elderly captain, who now felt slightly more at ease after Kline had moved his rifle from his hands to his shoulder, took a step towards the ship and examined it. He hunched slightly at the shoulder, humming and hawing as he carefully studied the damaged space faring vessel. "Ah, I see what your problem is here. This whole thing is made out of metal. Should have used wood."

This was just like Uncle Bobafang and his beskar canoe all over again, which last time he checked was still sitting at the bottom of the river. Mungos sure did like their shiny materials. Couldn't blame them really, he was a bit partial to shiny things to.

In the woods around the ship, the other hunters grew impatient as old captain Tarfang spoke with the sky people. Like woodland forest ninjas, three of the squat little bears descended on vines from the canopy above, landing on top of the ship without so much as a sound. Bird chirps, or a very good imitation of such, could be heard coming from the woods at infrequent intervals.

As for elderly ewok in blue, Tarfang pulled his attention away from the ship and turned back to Kline. He tucked his cane under his left arm and extended his right fuzzy paw in greeting.

"Oh, how rude of me, I haven't introduced myself. The name's Captain Tarfang of the...hmmm, well I guess I don't own that ship anymore." He scratched his furry head. "Makes me wonder if I'm even still technically a captain." Uh oh, identity crises. This is going to take some time to resolve. He shook his head. "Anyways, name's Tarfang. What brings you to our forest, stranger? You're not poachers, are you?"

The shrubbery around the clearing shook at little at the mention of poachers.

There was every chance the mungo was lying to Tarfang and was in fact some sort of intergalactic trouble maker, but the elderly ewok liked to think he was a good judge of character. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but there was something about this human he liked. Besides, every now and then it was worth taking a chance on a stranger.

His decision made, the old captain turned towards the woods and raised his paws to his face, forming a cone shape over his mouth.

In Ewokese. "It's okay, fellas! These are friendly sky people! You can come on out!"

Once more the shrubbery shook, this time parting even to reveal nine very distinct ewoks. There was Chief Chirpa of course, with his black and white striped fur and hood bedecked with a condor dragon skull. Others were various mixtures of brown or reddish fur, some with bird feathers in their hoods, others without. They were all carrying primitive wooden spears with stone spear tips, but as they approached they held their polearms vertical, with the pointy ends aimed towards the sky. Kline probably wouldn't be able to recognize it, but Tarfang could tell at a glance that some of them were disappointed. Sadly, they had been hoping for Imperials. It had been forever since the village had gotten a new stormtrooper helmet drum set. However, their curiosity about the sky people and their unusual technology outweighed anything else. Chirpa came to stand beside the old bear, eyeing up Kline suspiciously. The three ewoks on top of the ship continued to rummage around, poking and prodding the odd metal bird as though it were some sort of creature. As for Tarfang, he returned his attention to Kline.

Back in Basic. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you landed on the wrong side of the river." He pointed back the way they had come, where the sounds of running water could just be heard over the natural chorus of the forest. "This is dulok territory. Evil swamp dwellers." He explained. "Now they'll eat you if given the chance. The only reason they aren't here already if that they are nocturnal. That'll change soon as it's almost evening. To make matters worse, they have a pet gorax that comes out at night. Very nasty creature, very...big." He raised his arms as high as he could to exaggerate his point. "You should lock your ship up tight and come with us back to our village. We've got a guest hut we can put your crew up in for the night. Plus you haven't lived until you've tried a bowl of my sister Kneesaa's boar-wolf stew. You can come back to fix your ship tomorrow after daybreak. We'll even help."

While the ewoks might not have been mechanically inclined, they were a hard working people more than capable of following instructions. Not to mention that would give them an opportunity to replace some of that brittle metal the ship was made of with sturdy Endorian redwood.

"Excellent." Nodded Tarfang, nearly losing his his hat in the process. He turned to face the other ewoks, many of whom were busying themselves investigating the ship. The elderly captain stifled a curse under his breath as several of his furry brethren were poking and prodding it with their spears. "Hey! Get away from there ya band of thieving jawas!"

Several looked back at him, confused looks writ upon their fuzzy features. The old pirate rubbed the back of his head, grinning wide in embarrassment. Oh yeah, they don't speak basic. This was already getting confusing. He turned back to Kline and jerked a thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of Bright Tree Village.

"We'll wait if you want to gather up some things, but we should get moving soon. Bright Tree Village, our home, is about a thirty minute walk that way. I'll lead the way once your crew is ready." His eyes peered up to the top of the ship, which is when he noticed three of his kin trying to use their spears as leverage to pry open the top of the ship. Tarfang put his face in his hands, shaking his head from side to side. This was gunna be a long day.

"Ucha cheecha, yub yawan, jibti!" He yelled at them in ewokese, essentially telling them to get the heck off the ship.

That's the thing about ewoks. Very curious.