The fruit of the Wangadi tree should be treated with respect, because if eaten at the wrong time it can be mind blowing.
"It was another beautiful sunset in the wastes. In the distance I could see an entire meadows worth of plants sliding to a safer place for the night." Exerpt: A Prospector’s Tale, VOL XXIII Blue Guild Press
"Just when I thought it could not get any hotter, we cleared the crest of a small hollow. There was the most magnificent sight, a huge shadey tree hidden in the depression. It must of been there for decades for I had never seen a Drooping Tree that large before and in my decades of prospecting since," Exerpt: A Prospector’s Tale, VOL XXIII Blue Guild Press
"Tumbling dang danger" the old old prospector said.
The ochre sands stretch for miles around. Something kicks up the dust. It’s a yak. A desert-yak. It ambles slowly, nuzzling the ground for the low-growing shrubs. The ranger freezes. “Stay very still,” he warns. “Don’t move at all.” “What is it?” you ask, breathlessly. “It’s the most dangerous creature in the whole Ocadian desert. And it’s about to eat that yak…”
Nearly every primitive culture has had rituals and celebrations to guarantee the proper passage of the seasons and to ensure the fertility of crops and animals. Oversight of these ceremonies was generally the provenance of local kings or priests.
Suppose that the adventurers dispatch one of these fellows. The local peasants may become hysterical, fearing famine and death will stalk the land. Alternatively, they may want one of the new heroes to become king. For a while, this can be a good thing, but the first time that the crops fail, the superstitious locals will want to sacrifice their new leader.