The massive blonde bearded warrior nods in agreement with the diminished giant's plan and gives Ember a gentle reassuring pat on the back, then pocketing Mr. Bleeches together with the mostly devoured cookie, slowly standing up to not wreck the room. "Let's get out and get famous!" He says, giving the witch hostess a nod and turning to leave for Bart's farmstead.

After a brief rest in Lydia’s mill, you all pack up your things, ready to continue on your way to your destination. Lydia points you in the direction to Bart’s farm and waves you goodbye and you continue your trek alongside the river. It is now nearing the end of the afternoon based on the position of the sun. 

As you walk, you notice the sky is starting to be covered in greyish clouds. 

(Between Thurodim’s wanderer background feature and Ember’s Keen Mind, I won’t make your roll for survival. You can however, roll for Perception.)

Thurodim would march up front, sometimes stopping and sniffing the wind, giving Ember a ride to give the clever girl a vantage point for scouting, stopping now and then to let the diminished giant catch up. 

Perception: 5

From her vantage point atop Big Man's shoulders, Ember does try to scout, but is also preoccupied with her new worg tooth and chatting with her companions. 
Like wizard, like famliar, Aganazzar is also distracted by trying to socialize with the little pocket mouse.

"How did you get so big?" she asks as she pats the top of Big Man's head. "Did you eat all your greens when you were little?" She hardly gives him time to answer as she jabbers on. "Grandpa said I need to grow more. Too much meat and not enough greens, he said. But I don't like the greens," she explains, nose scrunching up in disgust. "But meat! I like all kinds of meat. Chickens and boar and--and deer and rabbits and pigeons and possums. Even bugs! Do they count as meat? Everything tastes good if you roast it real nice."


((Ember Perception: 6
Aggie Perception with Keen Senses: 11 -_-))

Out of Thurodim's pocket peeks Mr. Bleeches, his small black eyes curiously looking up at the reddish squirrel far above, then briefly disappreing down the pocket, only to reappear soon again, chirping excitedly at his larger cousin. Meanwhile the massive blonde bearded warrior tries to catch the torrent of words coming from the talkative girl above him, but in the end he can only tell she was talking about how things tastes good if you roast them. "Yes, roasted meat tastes good." He says and nods to himself, satisfied with his own contribution to the discussion.

Ozyre trots along the path, well below Ember's vantage point, though he seems to be paying more attention to his surroundings than the warrior's red wig is. Still, while his eyes are peeled, his ears and mouth focus elsewhere. "You know, there are better ways of eating greens than just, y'know, eating them. We don't have a lot of meat or anything where I'm from, so we eat a buncha stuff that grows in the ground, but it tends to be a bit boring, so we like to spruce things up. Do you know how many possibilities there are within a single kind of root? You can put them in hot water, ground them up until they're nice and fluffy, or even use them in a soup! I like 'em fluffy, myself. Add a bit of sugar and cinnamon and... mmm..."

When he abruptly pops out of his daydream of the great delicacy, the gnome notices the conversation between the squirrel-shaped fey spirit and the mouse-shaped mouse. He maneuvers himself under the barbarian and tries to join in, but he was really never very good at that kinda thing, and it's pretty clear that the series of strange noises and tiny gestures that he emits either isn't noticed or isn't understood by the chatting animals. He explains, "To be honest, I failed Speak with Small Beasts 101. I can't even hold a conversation with a woodpecker, and you know how they are." Satisfied with that explanation, he goes back to watching the trail and looking out for rain.

Perception: 15 (16 - 1)

Ember's eyes are wide and unblinking as her Keen Mind receives that information about roots--they do sound scrummier when he puts it that way--then a moment later she giggles down at the silly gnome. 

"It's okay! Aggie can't talk to Mr. Bleeches either, you know," she crosses her ankles beneath Big Man's chin and falls backwards to hang upside down, bringing her face a bit closer to Ozyre's level. "He just likes to think he can," she whispers. The ends of her red hair drag the ground and gather dirt and debris. "But he's not a beast really. His spirit is from the Wilds." 

Releasing her ankles, she flips down onto her bare feet and interlaces her fingers behind her head as she walks along, expression thoughtful before she perks towards their resident scholar. "Mr. [Sound of Cork Popping], can you speak to them technically? 'cause you can do their sounds so good?"

[Sound of Cork Popping] cocks his head to the side, as if struck by Ember's question.  He is quiet for a moment, then another... then he opens his beak.  What comes out is an unfamiliar and somewhat menacing voice, "Only one way to find out."  Though it is an adequate and relevant answer to her question, the voice being copied sounds as though the words were meant as a threat.

Casting speak with animals

He looks first to the tiny mouse poking out from Thurodim's pocket.  His beak opens and a long series of squeaks emerges.

 Then he looks to the flaming orange squirrel.  This time it is an aggressive blast of chirps, like when a little red squirrel notices you too close to its tree and lets you have it good.

 Distracted as he is trying to commune with the animals, [Sound of Cork Popping] forgets to be on the lookout for carnivorous trees or toothy dragon-chickens.

Ember's brows pull tightly together at the sound of that menacing voice, knowing now it was something also said to him at one time. There's a softness upon her features that suggests empathy, but a set to the line of her mouth that indicates an intimate understanding.

As he's addressed, Aganazzar's attention whips curiously over to [Sound of Cork Popping] and he scampers down Big Man's arm like a tree branch. His head turns this way and that like a whistled dog in his attempt to make sense of the sounds before he looks over to Ember with his own pair of dark, beady eyes. The two seem to wordlessly communicate for a moment, before the little wizard nods her head.

"Okay, okay! I'll tell him," she says. After a deep breath, she seemingly repeats verbatim, "Aggie says, 'Thank you for attempting to converse with me, Scholar. I understand that the threads of the Weave you've bound to your words are chords that only beasts can hear the harmony of. You speak through the Soul of the world, through which all nature is connected, and although it is not a language I share, the sentiment is appreciated all the same.'"

Once she's finished, the familiar chirps in punctuation of his words through her and jumps to [Sound of Cork Popping's] shoulder, where he busies himself with burying a chestnut in amongst the spaces of his ill-fitting armor. 

"That's really something that you can talk to animals! Should we..." she glances around, turning a full 360 degrees, "Should we find one to talk to? Maybe they know more about what's at the farm?"

Still wary of his surroundings, the massive blonde bearded warrior notices the girl with a squirrel-nest for hair hopping off her ride and then how the others mention speaking with animals. The bear shaman of his clan had taught Thurodim how to do that, and other neat tricks too, but he didn't use them so often as it involved a lot of mumbling and gestures and he only really used it to get Mr. Bleeches opinion on his latest poem.

As  [Sound of Cork Popping] addresses the curious pocket mouse it responds with a series of squeaks of it's own.

 The tiny pocket mouse then looks up expectantly at the bird man.

You continue to walk alongside the river. It’s a much longer trek than going from Dawn Point to the mill. An hour passes, and the mill can longer be seen in the distance.

It starts off as a light drizzle and slowly grows to become a heavy rainfall. The trees on the side manage to give you some light cover, but as you continue to walk, the accumulation of rainfall ends up making you completely soaked. 

The rain does slow your progress, because of the slippery terrain and reduced visibility, but finally, you see it. Just down the hill, you see a quaint little two-story cottage. In front stands a field of soil that, surprisingly, doesn’t seem to have much growing from it. On the other side of the field, bordering the trail leading to the house, is a small orchard of a few dozen appletrees. On the side of the house, there is a simple wooden building, probably a shack or a storage room. You can still see the river about 50 yards north of the farmstead.

By the time you reach the front door, it is early evening. Though strangely enough, you don’t see any lights shining through the windows of the house.

(Thurodim and Ozyre)

As the first drop falls, Mr, Bleeches immediately disappears down Thurodims pocket again but the massive blonde bearded warrior doesn't seem bothered at all by the following downpour, still striding forth with hair, body and clothes soaking wet. As the group of brave adventurers reaches what must be Bart's farmstead, Thurodim stops and listens. "Do you hear that?" He says, looking at his smaller companions. "Nothing...something has scared off the wildlife from this place, be wary my tiny friends." He says, starting to sniff in the air and studying the ground for tracks.

Perception: 22
Survival: 18

Expression one of absolute misery--her shoulders slumped and intermittent moans and groans emanating from beneath that sopping mop of red hair--Ember drags her feet along after the others, every so often looking upwards to frown at the sky. Mud repeatedly splatters up her shins and calves before it's quickly washed away again. She tried, during the first leg of their rain-drenched journey, to keep a mage's hand summoned above her, but it did little in the way of shielding her from the Horrible Wet and she succeeded only in tiring herself out with its repeated casting. 

At Big Man's warning, she parts her hair like a curtain from in front of her face and peeks around. Her eyes glow like dying embers, vision now capable of seeing the threads of the Weave wherever they've been woven.

Now on alert and unnerved by the unnatural quiet around them, she sticks to the deeper shadows as they approach. 

((Stealth: 20))
((She's looking out for any traces of magic too!))

[A short while earlier...]

[Sound of Cork Popping]'s head pops up in surprise as he converses with the tiny mouse.  

After receiving the translation from Ember, he looks back at the mouse, then to the fire squirrel, then back to the mouse.  He waves to the squirrel, then points to the mouse.  His beak opens and, "Thank you," ... he points to the squirrel...  "very much for...".   He then brings a hand in front of his beak and flaps it open and closed, while opening and closing his beak in an eating motion while mimicking, in a strange voice that is hard to describe, "Num-num-num-num-num."

The kenku doesn't seem put out by the rain.  The moisture seems to just bead up along his feathers and run off of him in rivulets.  His expressionless eyes are hard to read, but he seems very much to be enjoying the walk in the forest.  

He was just beginning to quicken his pace toward the cottage when Thurodim's warning goes up.  He skids to a stop, one hand going to his longsword hilt, as he turns slowly, scanning their surroundings.

"I second Thurodim."

By this point, it's difficult to describe Ozyre in any way except "drenched." His hair, which normally looks like it's just been blown back by a hurricane, is now a soggy brown mess on his head. He's practically weightless himself, but between the giant maul and the axes and the armor and the travelling supplies, he's not exactly travelling light, so every step he makes with his short legs leaves the wet ground with a hole large enough that it's a bit difficult for him to step out of it. Despite all this, he doesn't seem especially perturbed. At least, not by the rain.

"Something wacky's going on. I mean, even the best scarecrow in the world wouldn't keep every single animal away in such a large distance. Especially not the kinda animals that call this place their home. A scarecrow would probably attract them. But without irregardlessness, we're here!" The little gnome hops ahead, reaches up, and opens the door for everybody to come inside.

As the gnome goes to open the front door, he comes to realize that it’s locked. There are visible scratch marks on the door. The group now has to figure out of way to get in to find shelter from the rain.

Thurodim first examines the scratch marks on the door, trying to figure out what kind of creature did them, maybe a toothy dragon chicken.

Nature: 4

He would then scan the surroundings to see if he can find suitable shelter for his tiny but brave adventuring companions.

Survival: 9

Then he loses patience with the situation and calls out to anyone inside in a deep bellowing voice. "Greetings Bart, I am Thurodim and I'm here with my brave but tiny adventuring companions to make sure everything is alright with you and that you have no problem with toothy dragon chicken."

As Big Man makes a lot of racket and, seeing as the door is locked, Ember sneaks over to a window. She gives it an experimental push-pull-lift to see if it’s open then presses her face up against the glass pane to peer inside. 

((Perception: Nat 1 for a grand total of 3))

"Hm..." Ozyre starts to rifle through anything and everything within 10 feet of the door. He checks under any doormats or rocks that might by lying around, then in any plants or containers that could be sitting nonchalantly, then in the lock itself to see if the key happens to be in there. If that investigation bears little fruit, he'll go around the house once or twice, checking all the windows and doors that he can find to see if any are unlocked.

Investigation: 21 (19 + 2)

Thurodim:

As you examine the door, the scratch marks don’t seem especially deep, so you deem it safe to assume that the creature that made the marks probably didn’t have very long fangs or claws, and thus may not have been very big.

When you try to look for shelter, the immediate solution you consider is the shack next to the house. The front door is a recess door, but doesn’t seem to have a locking mechanism.

As you call out for the residents to come and open their door to you, your request gets no answer. You get a complete and utter silence…besides from the rain of course.

Ember:

You find a window next to the porch. The window sill is a little over your head, so you easily jump to reach it and peer inside. Unfortunately, with your face so close to the glass, you don’t get enough of the little natural light left to see anything other than vague shapes that are too blurred to distinguish. You play a little with the window and it doesn’t appear to be locked. With a good lift, you could manage to open the window.

Ozyre: 

Save for a pair of rocking chairs, there doesn’t appear to be anything else on the porch. Much like Thurodim, you can see that the shack’s recess door doesn’t seem locked. You also see Ember leaning on the window sill and dangling her feet in the air, fidgeting with the window.