The vegetation agrees to Doozey's request: "We may twist our branches and vines around the man-made structure's entry orifice, as to make it difficult to traverse." The green being (or beings) moves ever so slightly, as to demonstrate its capabilities and readiness to perform them as soon as Doozey gives them a signal they can understand.
Denae jumps at the halfling's request for any other suggestions directed at the plant: "Make sure they understand the we, the non-winged ones, are their friends." She turns to face the field in the distance and points at a head of hair just barely poking above the tall grasses: "And mention Ferguson too, just in case."
Now that the conversations have died out a bit, and getting flora-based hints that the creature they hunt is indeed inside, the CRAPers can now hear snoring noises coming from within the barn (passive perception).
Keeping his voice in a whisper, Utar looks to the other CRAPpers plus Danae. "My guess is it is sleeping off whatever it ate last night. I think the time to awaken it is at hand."
Focussing onto Doozey now, he adds, "I suspect you might want to try talking to it, if that's you're plan, I'm happy to follow."
Initially Doozey smiled and nodded in thanks for the offer. But in realizing that mere gestures might be lost on the entity(ies) he'd hurriedly and awkwardly uttered a thanks, as well as made the signal word be "Fig", before committing to playing translator for the others. "Uh.. sure, I can do that. Though so long as none of ya start hacking and pulling at'em, I'm just sure they'll leave ya be."The stoutling soon after found himself quietly conveying to Denae, before having his attention stolen by Utar.
"Ehh... I mean I wasn't exactly intending to if it was genuinely of a more fiendish nature. But, uh... once we're inside and if it seems manageable enough, I suppose there wouldn't be much harm in it."On that note, he turned and whispered something in Biscuit's ears, causing the Mastiff to look indignant for a moment. But after the two share a lengthy look, he "Boofs" softly in mild disappointment before going over and joining Ferguson in the tall grass. Doozey then looks to Neya had she not spoken up by then, seeming to make sure she had nothing more to add before addressing the plants and in a very offhanded manner designated everyone(including Ferg) as "friends".
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
With the last bits of information digested, a signal word defined, protection for Ferguson provided, and a simple but hopefully effective plan formed, CRAP inches toward and into the barn. The friendly and slightly animated vegetation outside does as promised, partially blocking the exit.
The simple structure has been mostly left to disrepair, but large bunches of hay still pepper the general area. The snoring noises grow louder as CRAP rounds one such pile of moldering hay, which is otherwise neatly baled and stacked in the rear of the barn. Asleep on a pile of hay is a small, scaled creature with leathery wings and a grossly distended belly. Resting on his back, his swollen belly heaves up and down in concert with his labored snoring.
Suddenly, his snoring becomes loud and ragged, and after a few choking coughs, the creature jerks awake and props himself up on an elbow, rubbing an eye with a fist while errant strands of hay cling to the side of his face. "What time is it?!" he gasps first in Infernal and then in Common.
A small, burlap satchel is on the floor next to the creature, which you all recognize as an imp. The burlap satchel is stained through with blood. Beside the bale that the imp is nesting in is a half-full milk can; its lid lay discarded on the floor. Upon waking, he hops to the rim, dunks his cup in and takes a swig, falling onto his back in the hay and letting out a long, contented sigh. "Have you tried this stuff? It's great!"
The mundane questions from whatever it is living in the derelict barn throw Utar. Given it isn't openly hostile, the half-orc allows his guard to lower and while his shield and leave are still in his hands, they have loosely by his sides.
"Ummm I don't know about the time actually, probably morning. And uh, yes. I've had milk before."
As soon as the creature stirred, Doozey's first instincts has him placing a hand on the hilt of Apostle and slightly crouching as if ready to spring at any moment! For better or worse, both bestial and hunter instincts don't get the better of the halfling, though he'd still couldn't resist glaring warily at the imp even as it was nonchalant about visitors. But seeing Utar begin to relax if only just in the creature's presence, the stoutling tried to do much the same, if though hesitantly so. "I think the more important questions would be why you're here? And what, if any, might your previous relationship to the former tenant of this abode was?"
With all the talk of fey involvement, the appearance of this creature certainly breaks the mold to Neya. Though, all of the clues that they had gathered at the farm fall into place like an anvil.
"Certainly fits what we've learned from the bodies and carrion birds." She mutters to herself.
The imp studies Utar's word: "Meelk? Is that what it is called? Delicious!"
"Oh, you know Halvin too?" The imp reacts to Doozey's questions. "Really swell guy! He calls me over to his plane every now and then. He keeps telling me what to do, 'Pipyap, fetch this,' or 'Pipyap keep watch,' but I don't mind it much. I like it here, but I haven't seen Halvin in some time. He makes pretty dumb decisions sometimes. The last one was a doozey." He laughs loudly but stops shortly thereafter, placing a hand on his extended belly.
He is then distracted by Neya's statement: "Oooh, did you catch one of those birds? They look delicious but I am always too full and heavy after a bovine meal to fly up and catch an avian dessert." He laughs again, his sharp shrieks cutting into your ears. "I'll worry more seriously about catching them when I run out of cows."
Completely disarmed by their conversation with Pipyap this far, Utar continues from where he left off previously.
"They can do a thing with the milk where you heat it and then leave it alone for a while, the exact process I'm not sure about, but anyway it makes a thing called cheese. That's really good. Better than milk I'd say. Sometimes it's hard and yellow and sometimes soft and white. Both are great, honestly, you should try to find some."
Suddenly catching on though, Utar adds a warning. "If you're eating the cows, you'll run out of milk. Cows make milk. No more cows, no more milk "
"Aye."Said Doozey, further affirming Neya's words just before the fiend confirm things. He then whips around to look at Utar with a raised brow, but is so flabbergasted as to never quite find the words to critize the half-orc before the man self corrects in the end. Still, now suspicious of some fiendish magic potential at work subtly playing at the cleric's will, the stoutling's gaze lingers on the half-orc for a long moment before he eventually relents in favor of again keeping an eye on the imp.
"Mn, yes, well, such matters aside for a moment, me friend here raises a good question. And seeing as his untimely demise might make it very tricky for ya to get back to this plane any time soon in the event of your, em, uh, oohhh, I dunno. Yer own eminent demise, I wager it might just behoove ya to maybe work with us on finding him, yes?"
Pipyap is more than intrigued by Utar cheesy revelations: "And do you carry this cheez with you? Do you have the yellow one or the white one? Give it! Share some! Yes?" He then considers Utar's plea for the cows, but the logic may or may not stick with the imp...
"Yes," Pipyap responds to Neya's question next, but only after Doozey had already done so. "He went into the Quivering Forest; even I thought that was stupid. Even fiends know better than to cross a hag." The conversation than steers into Doozey's next point, which seems to strike a chord with the imp. "But that is just it. All I have to do is not... face my own demise. Living easy in the barn, eating cow and drinking meelk, maybe even stealing some cheez or stabbing a vulture! Nothing more, nothing less, and I never have to go back to the Nine Hells. Perfection." He performs a chef's kiss gesture with his hand and fanged mouth. "Why would I walk into the dangerous forest like Halvin? Plus, he didn't say when he'd be back, but he promised me he would be, so you don't have to worry. Just, sit, relax, and drink some meelk."
Despite his words, Pipyap pauses and thinks for a moment. After some silence, he asks: "Will you give me cheez if I help you find him? All the cheez?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Taking his ocular scolding from Doozey, Utar attempts to focus and is pulled straight back into their lactose centred conversation by Pipyip. Fumbling in his bag for a ration, he looks through for a bit of cheese to share before holding it out for Pipyip to take.
"Uh, it's likely to be one of the harder yellow kinds, but it's good. But yeah, if you eat all the cows, no milk and no cheese. I bet this place would be a lot less interesting without dairy."
He then attempts to get a bit more information from the imp. "How does, did, Halvin used to call you to this plane? And do others call you off to theirs? And uh, the hag that Halvin's crossed, that's Jenny Greenteeth, right? What was Halvin up to? Can't just be going into the forest, he must be up to something else, right?"
Seeing Utar somewhat fumble the delivery of his lines along with the words, Doozey is quick to assure, "We can also more easily get the softer and tastier kind in the village than ye might without drawing unwarranted attention."
After hopefully having mollified, if not at least keeping the fiend's interest, Doozey quiets for a time in want to hear more the answers to his compatriots inquiries over muddying the waters by asking too much of the lazy imp.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
What initially feels like further progress in diplomatic relations between the half-orc and the imp, soon proves to be more of a distraction. Pipyap's full attention is devoted to the cheese Utar offers, to the detriment of the Tormite's plea on behalf of the cows. "Nah... I bet cow meat tastes even better with cheez on the side!" For the moments that follow, the imp is lost in his culinary daydream, which is only reinforced by Doozey's additional offer of extra tyromantic varieties.
Utar's questions have to be repeated in order to bring the imp back to the matter at hand. Even then, he seems a bit less eager to share. "Only Halvin has the power to call on me, or, at least, I haven't been summoned by anyone else so far. And yes, that's the name Halvin kept repeating out loud and writing in his journal." He catches himself revealing the existence of the journal and covers his mouth with his hands. He then goes mostly silent following Utar's last couple of questions, doing a poor job of hiding his unwillingness to spew Halvin's secrets without hesitation.
At this point, either due to being convinced by the promise of cheese or simply trying to steer the conversation away from Halvin's business, Pipyap eagerly accepts Doozey's initial offer: "Yes, Pipyap goes with you after all, but you have to promise to keep me safe from forest dangers, including Hag Greenteeth."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Suddenly Utar is overcome with an idea: ground beef, shaped so it would nearly occupy a bread bun, topped with cheese and other items that could be suited to the individual tastes of the purchaser... With the right approach to the market, it could be a cheap and easy way to feed the masses, or with choice cuts of meat and cheese, it could be a gourmet item. He squirrels the idea away to discuss with Sagin and maybe Dornal on their return to Phlan.
Focusing again on the situation at hand, Utar attempts to parse Pipyip's comments against his own knowledge of the arcane.
@Utar: The idea of summoning a minor beast or other creature at will, from a different plane of existence, which simultaneously binds it to one's service to the point of expressing enough loyalty to keep the summoner's secrets from others, and in a manner that defies the time, all point to one type of relationship in your mind: that of a spellcaster and their familiar. That said, the ability to bind a fiendish imp with such a spell is afforded to a select few, and it usually requires some sort of relationship with greater fiends still, like the sort of relationship a warlock might be involved in.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Doozey scrunches up his face at the very notion of protecting a fiend; especially one responsible for the wanton slaughter of livestock without even a thought of at least compensating their owner. But despite such misgivings and MANY more floating about in the back of his head, he looked away and began rubbing his chin in serious contemplation. "I suppose... Mn. I suppose so long as yer not expecting us to go to the extreme of laying down our lives for ya, AND promise to actually help us find yer, eh, wayward summoner, then, em, such terms can be agreeable enough." Doozey conveys, though not without a note of reluctance creeping into his words at a few points.
Also before there could be any celebrating over any potential accord, the stoutling holds up a hand. "Of course, the quivering forest is not a place to be trifled with from any angle one might approach it."He admits and feigned a worried look. "If only Halvin left an obvious clue that might at least suggest where and why he might've gone inside, eh? Perhaps one we might stumble upon while a certain an imp gathers supplies for himself for the proverbial road."On that note, he gives the fiend a pointed look.
For if another Persuasion check might be necessary: 27.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
A flurry of questions float around the half-orc's brain, begging to be let out. Utar knows that he needs a quiet moment to discuss things with the rest of CRAP. Blurting them out here helps no-one. But, if as he suspects, Halvin has the patronage of a fiend, one willing to lend him their power, what other abilities were loaned to the hermit? Enough for him to think he could stand against a hag alone? Halvin's journal might give some answers, but why leave it behind, and why leave Pipyip behind as well?
Knowing enough about the requirements of magic and of the spell likely employed by Halvin, Utar casts an eye around the barn, looking for the tell tale brazier required of the spell.
Should he not spot it, Utar remembers that there is a house, as yet unchecked, and the paraphernalia might be in there instead.
Unbidden, a final thought comes to Utar's mind, are the warlock's carvings the work of a lonely hermit looking to make and sell trinkets, or something much darker indeed?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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The vegetation agrees to Doozey's request: "We may twist our branches and vines around the man-made structure's entry orifice, as to make it difficult to traverse." The green being (or beings) moves ever so slightly, as to demonstrate its capabilities and readiness to perform them as soon as Doozey gives them a signal they can understand.
Denae jumps at the halfling's request for any other suggestions directed at the plant: "Make sure they understand the we, the non-winged ones, are their friends." She turns to face the field in the distance and points at a head of hair just barely poking above the tall grasses: "And mention Ferguson too, just in case."
Now that the conversations have died out a bit, and getting flora-based hints that the creature they hunt is indeed inside, the CRAPers can now hear snoring noises coming from within the barn (passive perception).
Keeping his voice in a whisper, Utar looks to the other CRAPpers plus Danae. "My guess is it is sleeping off whatever it ate last night. I think the time to awaken it is at hand."
Focussing onto Doozey now, he adds, "I suspect you might want to try talking to it, if that's you're plan, I'm happy to follow."
Initially Doozey smiled and nodded in thanks for the offer. But in realizing that mere gestures might be lost on the entity(ies) he'd hurriedly and awkwardly uttered a thanks, as well as made the signal word be "Fig", before committing to playing translator for the others. "Uh.. sure, I can do that. Though so long as none of ya start hacking and pulling at'em, I'm just sure they'll leave ya be." The stoutling soon after found himself quietly conveying to Denae, before having his attention stolen by Utar.
"Ehh... I mean I wasn't exactly intending to if it was genuinely of a more fiendish nature. But, uh... once we're inside and if it seems manageable enough, I suppose there wouldn't be much harm in it." On that note, he turned and whispered something in Biscuit's ears, causing the Mastiff to look indignant for a moment. But after the two share a lengthy look, he "Boofs" softly in mild disappointment before going over and joining Ferguson in the tall grass. Doozey then looks to Neya had she not spoken up by then, seeming to make sure she had nothing more to add before addressing the plants and in a very offhanded manner designated everyone(including Ferg) as "friends".
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"Sounds like a good plan. That, is, if it can be reasoned with."
Extended Signature
With the last bits of information digested, a signal word defined, protection for Ferguson provided, and a simple but hopefully effective plan formed, CRAP inches toward and into the barn. The friendly and slightly animated vegetation outside does as promised, partially blocking the exit.
The simple structure has been mostly left to disrepair, but large bunches of hay still pepper the general area. The snoring noises grow louder as CRAP rounds one such pile of moldering hay, which is otherwise neatly baled and stacked in the rear of the barn. Asleep on a pile of hay is a small, scaled creature with leathery wings and a grossly distended belly. Resting on his back, his swollen belly heaves up and down in concert with his labored snoring.
Suddenly, his snoring becomes loud and ragged, and after a few choking coughs, the creature jerks awake and props himself up on an elbow, rubbing an eye with a fist while errant strands of hay cling to the side of his face. "What time is it?!" he gasps first in Infernal and then in Common.
A small, burlap satchel is on the floor next to the creature, which you all recognize as an imp. The burlap satchel is stained through with blood. Beside the bale that the imp is nesting in is a half-full milk can; its lid lay discarded on the floor. Upon waking, he hops to the rim, dunks his cup in and takes a swig, falling onto his back in the hay and letting out a long, contented sigh. "Have you tried this stuff? It's great!"
The mundane questions from whatever it is living in the derelict barn throw Utar. Given it isn't openly hostile, the half-orc allows his guard to lower and while his shield and leave are still in his hands, they have loosely by his sides.
"Ummm I don't know about the time actually, probably morning. And uh, yes. I've had milk before."
As soon as the creature stirred, Doozey's first instincts has him placing a hand on the hilt of Apostle and slightly crouching as if ready to spring at any moment! For better or worse, both bestial and hunter instincts don't get the better of the halfling, though he'd still couldn't resist glaring warily at the imp even as it was nonchalant about visitors. But seeing Utar begin to relax if only just in the creature's presence, the stoutling tried to do much the same, if though hesitantly so. "I think the more important questions would be why you're here? And what, if any, might your previous relationship to the former tenant of this abode was?"
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
With all the talk of fey involvement, the appearance of this creature certainly breaks the mold to Neya. Though, all of the clues that they had gathered at the farm fall into place like an anvil.
"Certainly fits what we've learned from the bodies and carrion birds." She mutters to herself.
Extended Signature
The imp studies Utar's word: "Meelk? Is that what it is called? Delicious!"
"Oh, you know Halvin too?" The imp reacts to Doozey's questions. "Really swell guy! He calls me over to his plane every now and then. He keeps telling me what to do, 'Pipyap, fetch this,' or 'Pipyap keep watch,' but I don't mind it much. I like it here, but I haven't seen Halvin in some time. He makes pretty dumb decisions sometimes. The last one was a doozey." He laughs loudly but stops shortly thereafter, placing a hand on his extended belly.
He is then distracted by Neya's statement: "Oooh, did you catch one of those birds? They look delicious but I am always too full and heavy after a bovine meal to fly up and catch an avian dessert." He laughs again, his sharp shrieks cutting into your ears. "I'll worry more seriously about catching them when I run out of cows."
Completely disarmed by their conversation with Pipyap this far, Utar continues from where he left off previously.
"They can do a thing with the milk where you heat it and then leave it alone for a while, the exact process I'm not sure about, but anyway it makes a thing called cheese. That's really good. Better than milk I'd say. Sometimes it's hard and yellow and sometimes soft and white. Both are great, honestly, you should try to find some."
Suddenly catching on though, Utar adds a warning. "If you're eating the cows, you'll run out of milk. Cows make milk. No more cows, no more milk "
"We heard from the locals that Halvin went into the Quivering Forest. Is that the same dumb decision?"
Extended Signature
"Aye." Said Doozey, further affirming Neya's words just before the fiend confirm things. He then whips around to look at Utar with a raised brow, but is so flabbergasted as to never quite find the words to critize the half-orc before the man self corrects in the end. Still, now suspicious of some fiendish magic potential at work subtly playing at the cleric's will, the stoutling's gaze lingers on the half-orc for a long moment before he eventually relents in favor of again keeping an eye on the imp.
"Mn, yes, well, such matters aside for a moment, me friend here raises a good question. And seeing as his untimely demise might make it very tricky for ya to get back to this plane any time soon in the event of your, em, uh, oohhh, I dunno. Yer own eminent demise, I wager it might just behoove ya to maybe work with us on finding him, yes?"
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Pipyap is more than intrigued by Utar cheesy revelations: "And do you carry this cheez with you? Do you have the yellow one or the white one? Give it! Share some! Yes?" He then considers Utar's plea for the cows, but the logic may or may not stick with the imp...
(@MB: Please roll a persuasion check.)
"Yes," Pipyap responds to Neya's question next, but only after Doozey had already done so. "He went into the Quivering Forest; even I thought that was stupid. Even fiends know better than to cross a hag." The conversation than steers into Doozey's next point, which seems to strike a chord with the imp. "But that is just it. All I have to do is not... face my own demise. Living easy in the barn, eating cow and drinking meelk, maybe even stealing some cheez or stabbing a vulture! Nothing more, nothing less, and I never have to go back to the Nine Hells. Perfection." He performs a chef's kiss gesture with his hand and fanged mouth. "Why would I walk into the dangerous forest like Halvin? Plus, he didn't say when he'd be back, but he promised me he would be, so you don't have to worry. Just, sit, relax, and drink some meelk."
Despite his words, Pipyap pauses and thinks for a moment. After some silence, he asks: "Will you give me cheez if I help you find him? All the cheez?"
Denae face-palms.
(@Doozey: Please roll a persuasion check.)
Taking his ocular scolding from Doozey, Utar attempts to focus and is pulled straight back into their lactose centred conversation by Pipyip. Fumbling in his bag for a ration, he looks through for a bit of cheese to share before holding it out for Pipyip to take.
"Uh, it's likely to be one of the harder yellow kinds, but it's good. But yeah, if you eat all the cows, no milk and no cheese. I bet this place would be a lot less interesting without dairy."
Persuasion - 4
He then attempts to get a bit more information from the imp. "How does, did, Halvin used to call you to this plane? And do others call you off to theirs? And uh, the hag that Halvin's crossed, that's Jenny Greenteeth, right? What was Halvin up to? Can't just be going into the forest, he must be up to something else, right?"
Seeing Utar somewhat fumble the delivery of his lines along with the words, Doozey is quick to assure, "We can also more easily get the softer and tastier kind in the village than ye might without drawing unwarranted attention."
-Persuasion: 27.
After hopefully having mollified, if not at least keeping the fiend's interest, Doozey quiets for a time in want to hear more the answers to his compatriots inquiries over muddying the waters by asking too much of the lazy imp.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
What initially feels like further progress in diplomatic relations between the half-orc and the imp, soon proves to be more of a distraction. Pipyap's full attention is devoted to the cheese Utar offers, to the detriment of the Tormite's plea on behalf of the cows. "Nah... I bet cow meat tastes even better with cheez on the side!" For the moments that follow, the imp is lost in his culinary daydream, which is only reinforced by Doozey's additional offer of extra tyromantic varieties.
(@MB: Please roll an arcana check.)
Utar's questions have to be repeated in order to bring the imp back to the matter at hand. Even then, he seems a bit less eager to share. "Only Halvin has the power to call on me, or, at least, I haven't been summoned by anyone else so far. And yes, that's the name Halvin kept repeating out loud and writing in his journal." He catches himself revealing the existence of the journal and covers his mouth with his hands. He then goes mostly silent following Utar's last couple of questions, doing a poor job of hiding his unwillingness to spew Halvin's secrets without hesitation.
At this point, either due to being convinced by the promise of cheese or simply trying to steer the conversation away from Halvin's business, Pipyap eagerly accepts Doozey's initial offer: "Yes, Pipyap goes with you after all, but you have to promise to keep me safe from forest dangers, including Hag Greenteeth."
Suddenly Utar is overcome with an idea: ground beef, shaped so it would nearly occupy a bread bun, topped with cheese and other items that could be suited to the individual tastes of the purchaser... With the right approach to the market, it could be a cheap and easy way to feed the masses, or with choice cuts of meat and cheese, it could be a gourmet item. He squirrels the idea away to discuss with Sagin and maybe Dornal on their return to Phlan.
Focusing again on the situation at hand, Utar attempts to parse Pipyip's comments against his own knowledge of the arcane.
Arcana - 7
@Utar: The idea of summoning a minor beast or other creature at will, from a different plane of existence, which simultaneously binds it to one's service to the point of expressing enough loyalty to keep the summoner's secrets from others, and in a manner that defies the time, all point to one type of relationship in your mind: that of a spellcaster and their familiar. That said, the ability to bind a fiendish imp with such a spell is afforded to a select few, and it usually requires some sort of relationship with greater fiends still, like the sort of relationship a warlock might be involved in.
Doozey scrunches up his face at the very notion of protecting a fiend; especially one responsible for the wanton slaughter of livestock without even a thought of at least compensating their owner. But despite such misgivings and MANY more floating about in the back of his head, he looked away and began rubbing his chin in serious contemplation. "I suppose... Mn. I suppose so long as yer not expecting us to go to the extreme of laying down our lives for ya, AND promise to actually help us find yer, eh, wayward summoner, then, em, such terms can be agreeable enough." Doozey conveys, though not without a note of reluctance creeping into his words at a few points.
Also before there could be any celebrating over any potential accord, the stoutling holds up a hand. "Of course, the quivering forest is not a place to be trifled with from any angle one might approach it." He admits and feigned a worried look. "If only Halvin left an obvious clue that might at least suggest where and why he might've gone inside, eh? Perhaps one we might stumble upon while a certain an imp gathers supplies for himself for the proverbial road." On that note, he gives the fiend a pointed look.
For if another Persuasion check might be necessary: 27.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
A flurry of questions float around the half-orc's brain, begging to be let out. Utar knows that he needs a quiet moment to discuss things with the rest of CRAP. Blurting them out here helps no-one. But, if as he suspects, Halvin has the patronage of a fiend, one willing to lend him their power, what other abilities were loaned to the hermit? Enough for him to think he could stand against a hag alone? Halvin's journal might give some answers, but why leave it behind, and why leave Pipyip behind as well?
Knowing enough about the requirements of magic and of the spell likely employed by Halvin, Utar casts an eye around the barn, looking for the tell tale brazier required of the spell.
Investigation - 19
Should he not spot it, Utar remembers that there is a house, as yet unchecked, and the paraphernalia might be in there instead.
Unbidden, a final thought comes to Utar's mind, are the warlock's carvings the work of a lonely hermit looking to make and sell trinkets, or something much darker indeed?