( Vardi doesn't recall any talk of such a place.......however she does recall the same bare hilltop as Famh, and something about it has been itching at the back of her mind since....she is certain the die off is not natural......and there was something about the top of the hill....perhaps a cleft or fissure running through it.....)

 Famh: "I think our knicht wad still want us tae report back tae him before our final attack... after aw, he's the ane will have tae answer tae the Duke and Baron for the performance o' this knicht-service ... but we micht scout the spot oot  tomorrow and see gin it truly is where the Fachan bides or na."

"A fair plan. Tha itch at tha back of ma heid says ye may well be right in where ta look, and tis far too cauld fra fleas this time'o'year." Vardi offers, then asks "Sneak up fra a looksee and sneak out again. If they do bide there, then we leave 'em be and scurry off ta let Ser know on tha quiet like?"

The broad smile across her face returns as she concedes "I'm nay much of a catfoot, nay compared ta tha rest of ye, but I make little noise standing still, and I have Skoggi's eye and ears as well as ma own ta help out."

Thatch’s sleep is oddly restful, given their location in the moors and his recent run-in with the giantess. “Thank you, Famh, for the ring” Thatch takes it and turns it over in his hands before placing it on his finger “Though I’d be afraid to find out what Shuck had to say, but maybe Salt and I can share stories.” He begins to pack up and looks at Vardi “If it is nearby, I say we explore it before heading back to Ser Almeric, might be I can sneak up and take a look.”

"Well, gin our guid serjeant agrees, let's see whit we can learn then."  Famh looks to Ori and tilts her head inquiringly.  She has been traveling with him long enough to develop a great respect for his level head.  If he raises no objection, she collects her gear and makes ready for the expedition, hanging the Cailleach's grey bag from her belt next the pouch she keeps her sling in.  Then she peers out towards the barren hill again, looking more closely with her sharp faerie eyes for outcroppings of stone or loose boulders that might conceal the retinue's approach.  She murmurs aloud as she does, "I dinna see any heath at aw tae hide behind; the yird herself will have tae conceal us"   She describes whatever she may be able to make out to the scouts; then looking higher, she stiffens slightly as she spots the fissure.  "This is gettin' tae be a habit.  Well, at least we can make a guid guess where its lair is like tae be..."

=========

Perception 17

Survival 22

( Make sure everyone records their chosen item- and notes for each on their sheets.)

( Ok, we'll get Ori to weigh in then either head to Rorys or the Lair)

Ori looks at each member in turn, trying to read thier faces. Something about this place has Ori disoriented. Everything that use to come naturally to him, like reading a crowded room  even when didn't fully understand what they are saying. Then that... whatever she was. Ori wrap his head around the fact that have of them saw one thing and the rest an other. "Well mates  tbe way I figure it it the old Sir is gonna do what he always wants to and charge straight in. Best if we have as much to tell him before bringing him in, otherwise we will march in there with no plan and minimal knowledge. If we scout the place out a bit we will at least have that to tell him, Aye?"

Ori finds himself wondering how Tara and Fergus are holding up back at the keep. Shouldn't have left them behind, that or should have staied with them! But then Ori recalls the "gifts" He was given the night before they started this trek. They are probably in more danger then we will be.

The group make their way through the mire eventually coming back to solid ground , the sun is high overhead but mostly hidden by clouds as they make their way uphill and north....

Cainneach and Thatch come across the scattered skeletal remains of a number of coos and deer as they get closer to the bald hill,   the fissure just below the crown can be easily made out  it seems very large from this distance.

The group gets as close as they can but will need care to approach any closer if there are observers.....

Cainneach nods with appreciation at each of his companions' wise thoughts on the matter.  After some travel across the moors, he finally feels like his mind has fully cleared after their interaction with the winter woman.  The sight of the carcasses sharpens his focus further (I hope) and he and Salt join Thatch in performing their habitual scouting duties.  They would need to be sharp to evade the Fachan, even if it is a runt or inhibited in some way.  Before moving ahead, Cainneach gestures to Salt to take a sniff, hoping to figure if the giant were presently in its cave.  Then, he motions to Thatch that they should move upwind of the cave and wait until the clouds fully obscure the sun before going ahead.  They'll need all the help they can get to move with stealth on this barren hill ...  At least they have their brave friends ready to swoop in if things get out of hand.  The forester nervously palms the hilt of his shortsword as he advances.

Salt - Perception 7  (sniffing to see if the Fachan is nearby, or anything else ...)

Cainneach - Stealth 12
    Perception 6  (can he get a glimpse inside the fissure or hear anything?)

Salt immediately alerts, not liking the scent they are picking up at all.

Cainneach manages to crawl up the lee side of the hill and get a view within the fissure, the entrance is filled with many dozens of bones....some human...it is quiet within but he can hear a faint gnawing sound and laboured breathing....

When Salt balks at the scent, Cainneach grits his teeth, knowing what that likely means as he continues to creep forward.  What he sees and hears next confirms his fears, for surely the monster lay within its lair.  The forester withdraws with Salt back to the party.  "The Fachan almost certainly is in that lair, I could hear it gnawing on something and it was surrounded by the skeletons of a great many victims, man and beast alike.  The thing must surely be killed, I guess we at least have it cornered at the moment."

“Do we dare take the chance to go back to Ser Almeric and risk losing track of the creature?” Thatch leans in toward the others “Or do you think we can take it down by ourselves right now?  Do we lure the beast out in the open or try to attack it in its lair?” He looks at Ori and the others for their thoughts.

"Almeric certainly would help and would want to be here, but the longer we leave it alive, the longer it has to cause harm. We are down Tana, Fergus, and Almeric, so we pretty weakened in manpower, but honestly I like our chances if we set a trap for the thing... " Ori looks all in turn, "if anyone feels we should get Almeric, we should but if everyone is ready to put an end of this hunt, we'll I'm game."

3

18

Famh sucks on her upper lip thoughtfully.  "Ye've a guid point thare, Ori.  And thare's na guarantee the thing wad still be in its lair gin we left an came back later."  She looks up at the fissure with narrowed eyes, remembering how cramped the entrance to the Cailleach's home had been. "It's well defendit where it bides, Thatch.  Gin we dae attack it now, I'd suggest drawin' it oot and then ambushin' it from the side.  And I've a thoucht hou tae dae that.  Ane o' the beasts from the bag the Cailleach gave me coud gae up tae the lair; the Fachan wad see it and think it haed its dinner caucht.  Then whan it came oot, 'twould find it were caucht instead.  I'll try the bag now, and have the beast bide at ma side till we're sure gin this is the best plan or na."  She reaches into the grey bag at her side to see what sort of beast the Cailleach's favor might grant.

=========

Bag of tricks result: 7

The fuzzy grey ball that Famh drew from her bag and cast down at her feet hardly has a chance to touch the earth when it begins to swell and writhe.  It flushes with colour, tawny hues mingling with hints of black and white; next moment the ball is gone and a giant lynx crouches at Famh's feet.  It tenses for one brief moment.  Then, as Famh catches its gaze and looks steadily into its eyes, it rubs its head against her and settles down, sitting on its haunches.

There is a sudden silence from the hollow above....

“Tis a sound plan, Famh, though I hate to lead such a graceful creature to bait a trap.” Thatch looks over at the Giant Lynx, sitting next to Famh and still taller than Thatch stands.  Thatch looks up toward the cleft as the sounds of breaking bones falls silent. “It appears the time for talking is over, the game has started.  The Fachan must have caughten wind of us.”  Thatch pulls an arrow and readies his short bow.

Cainneach gasps at the sight of the massive feline, for though he had gleaned some notion of what the little bag he passed along could produce, what he now sees is still remarkable.

Nature 5

"Well done, leannan!  A wise plan and a favourable blessing from the cailleach indeed."  Cainneach regards the cat with wonder and reverence, much as he generally does with Famh!

Quote from LAXGunner >>

“Tis a sound plan, Famh, though I hate to lead such a graceful creature to bait a trap.” Thatch looks over at the Giant Lynx, sitting next to Famh and still taller than Thatch stands.  Thatch looks up toward the cleft as the sounds of breaking bones falls silent. “It appears the time for talking is over, the game has started.  The Fachan must have caughten wind of us.”  Thatch pulls an arrow and readies his short bow.

Cainneach turns and whispers to Thatch, "Famh can likely confirm, but if that beast is what I believe it to be, we have gained a formidable ally that should be able to take care of itself."  As did the stableboy, so does the forester.  Cainneach draws his bow and nocks an arrow, ready to fire at the giant should it emerge.