Thus far. . . Our heroes have learned where Schlock came from, and have been treated to a suprisingly tasty cave-porridge. But they don't yet have the information they came for: The location of a surviving grove of eye-trees. The old grove has been reduced to a charred waste, void of proper clues.
If you've been watching the amorph tribes remotely, then you must know where they are growing eyes now.
Ah, yes. I couldn't help but notice that you are missing your own charmingly mismatched pair.
I expect there to be a good story behind how you lost your eyes. Tell it to me, and I'll tell you where you can find more.
Or if you'd like me to go first, I can do that.
The foreigners from the space-port uprooted and transplanted a few trees, and then burnt every eye-forest they could find. The only trees left are hidden somewhere in the city of Tobir.
Tobir. . . That's the ruin with the shiny space-port in the middle?
Right. And I can just take a rain-check on that story of yours.
Okay, Everybody. . . Back to the transport.
When I find the guy who torched that forest, I'm going to eat him. And I'm only going to half-cook him first.
I wanted to hear his story. They probably won't come back, you know.
Who needs a campfire story when there's an action movie coming on?
It's been ages since we've gotten to watch a proper war.