Burr enjoys the fresh air though scowls at the ever cloying Mists, as they approach the lake he keeps an eye on both the buildings and the treeline.

Perception- 9

Soren breathes deeply, hoping to clear his head, with mixed success.  He murmurs a prayer of guidance to Silvanus and surveys the lake and its surrounds with tired eyes.  Why are there so few people out here?  If I lived in Vallaki, this is where I would spend my free time.

Soren Perception at disadvantage due to Exhaustion plus Guidance:  8 + 2 = 10

Zefla takes in the scenery, but doesn't search it very hard.  "I wonder if those are cottages or something down there?" she points along the eastern edge of the lake.  "Did we want to check them out or continue on to the next lake?  Honestly, we should be looking for a cave of sorts, but maybe people who live here have a better idea on what we need to find?"

She does head over to the buildings by the dock and peers in, see if anyone is home.

The lakeside is quiet, almost peaceful.  Were it not for what you already know of the nature of Barovia, you could easily mistake this for a calm - if cloudy and fog-shrouded - morning at any mountain lake in the realms.  A handful of ducks zip across the surface of the lake, their wingbeats the only sound to break the silence.

Out on the lake, a single rowboat floats perhaps 500' from shore.  A lonely fisherman waits there, unmoving.  It could almost be a painting.

Mixed in with the mists around the lake shore is a thick haze.  It is accompanied by a musty odor that burns your noses slightly.  You are reminded that Urwin Martikov mentioned some old pot stills were operating in the shacks down by the lake shore.

Otherwise, this area looks deserted.

Zefla points out onto the lake, at the lonely fisherman.  "Should we go and try to talk to him?  They might know well, something?  And after, move on to the next lake?  I don't see anything that would work for a wolves den around here."

Unless someone stops her, she heads to a shoreline that she is closest to the fisherman and starts waving wildly.  With the eerie silence, she holds off on yelling.

Soren finds it hard not to simply sit down leaning against a tree and gaze out over the serene water.  Surprisingly empty of people...

"You may be right, Zefla.  Madame Eva said the wolves' den was in the hills overlooking a mountain lake.  The lake is beautiful, but do you see any hills overlooking it?  Perhaps on the other side?  The fog troubles me, especially after our recent experiences with it."

Soren does not try to stop Zefla from waving, but he does close his eyes to summon his Wild Companion, Nettle, once more.  The owl appears on his shoulder and briefly nuzzles nose-to-nose with the druid, looking concerned about his haggard appearance.  After a bit of eye contact, and murmured guidance from Soren, the bird takes wing, making a circuit over the water.  Flying along the shore of the lake (keeping a good hundred feet away from the fog), then out and around to pass within fifty feet above the fisherman, coming back to the shore on the other side and skirting the fog at a distance once more before returning to Soren's shoulder to report her findings.  (Soren can only communicate telepathically with Nettle while she is within 100').

Nettle is looking for any signs of wolves (or werewolves!), or really any people, beasts or monsters whatsoever.  She also tries to see whether there is anything unusual about the fisherman or his boat.

Nettle's Perception (at advantage due to Keen Hearing and Sight) plus Guidance:  17 + 1 = 18

" Dens are usually only in use when a pack is raising cubs.....for their to be a permanent den that would speak to the presence of human-wolves twisting the packs natural behaviour."

He grinned off their expressions, " Sometimes I listen...mostly when Soren is speaking...."

" I wonder if the lake is as full of terrors as the woods and mountains here?"

Giles portrays a look of mock hurt and offense from Burr’s words, clutching his set of pearls around his neck if they existed.  “I don’t wish to see the manner of creatures that live beneath that lake, I have no desire to tackle some weird three eyed were-fish underwater.  Not even if Soren could turn himself into a shark.  I saw we walk north along the shoreline, looking in those shacks as we go… If anyone wanted to hear my opinion on the matter.”  A pointed look at Burr, then a smile.

Burr grinned at Giles, " Perhaps if I had had schooling I would understand more than half of what you say, Good Father."

Zefla waves emphatically at the fisherman, but he doesn't react.  It is hard to tell from this distance, but it looks like he might be facing the other direction.  

It will take Nettles a good 20 to 25 minutes to circle the shoreline of the lake and report back.

Zefla grins at the conversation between Burr and Giles, but then nods.  "Sure, let's get moving, that sounds like a plan to me Giles."  Looking to Soren, "I'm curious if your owl friend notices anything about that fisherman."

As you all wait for Nettle to perform a wide circle around this area of lakeshore [not the whole lake as impled above] you confirm that the small buildings and shacks near the water are all empty.  One of them is full of long tables and wicker baskets, the interior reeking of old fish.  The rest of the shacks contain crude copper distilleries.  One of them is currently functioning, spewing out a brown haze that smells musty and sweet but which chokes the lungs of any who get too close.

After just a couple of minutes, Nettle returns.

Soren:

Burr waits for Sorens report.

Soren is almost startled by Nettle's return, his exhausted mind having settled into peaceful, languid contemplation of the Lake Zarovich.  Once more, the owl familiar looks at the druid with concern before communicating what she has seen and sensed.  When Soren turns to the others, his voice is muted.

"Nettle sees no obvious threats.  The lake and lakeshore seem... not empty, but emptier of people and wildlife than she would expect, though there is the one fisherman and some ducks and otters.  No wolves or werewolves that she could sense."  He pauses visibly, trying to articulate the next part.

"The fisherman is a human male.  Kneeling in his boat as if... praying silently?  In fact, there is no sound at all.  But next to him in the boat, the large sack is... wriggling?  I know that some anglers use worms as bait, but it is not customary to keep worms in  large sack... is it?"  Soren's voice sounds confused.

"It seems more as if there is something heavy, yet moving, in the sack."

"Like a person?"

Soren looks back at Burr, face ashen.  "Perhaps.  Nettle does not know."  (Soren checks with Nettle to confirm this uncertainty).

"It is not common for fishermen to keep someone inside a sack, is it?"

Giles hears the news and says “Something about that doesn’t sit right with me.  That doesn’t’ sound like any fish or bait.  Only one way to know.”  He walks forward to the dock and gets into one of the two remaining rowboats, and gets prepared to row.  “Let’s go out and see what is in the sack.  And perhaps we can get some information from the man in the boat.  He may know about the wolves.”  He motions with his hands for you to join him in the rowboat.  

Zefla looks quite surprised by this revelation, “A large wiggling sack and the man appears praying over it?  Yes, let’s go check this out further.”

 Happy that she isn’t climbing anything, though getting in a rowboat isn’t exactly her cup of tea, she climbs in the one that Giles gestures at, settling in.

The rowboats are small.  There is only one bench seat near the middle of each.  Father Giles and Zefla can fit in one, but they don't look like they could safely hold more than two people.  

If Soren and Burr want to venture out as well, they could take a second rowboat, or take their chances piling in with Giles and Zefla.

If either Soren or Burr attempt to climb in their rowboat, Zefla shakes her head and holds up her palms.  "Nope.  This one's full.  You two take the other one, or wait here.  But you ain't getting in this one and tipping it over!"