"Mn~ Sounds altogether very stressful. But any chances you can tell me more about happened the last time? Did either of you see what happened to the unfortunate ones, or heard much of anything? Perhaps even smelled anything... off on the wind? Like rotten eggs or something very strong and peculiar?" Doozey asked of the four at large, giving each them sympathetic look in turn. As for Biscuit, provided the place the farmer guided his brother wasn't the same one with the corpse smell, he'd be the stoutling's side, acting as his hype dog by telling short excerpts of their successful monster slaying, if any the cow's seem reticent to speak up.

-Persuasion: 20. (if needed) (if at adv. from Hype Dog: 20.

Otherwise, Biscuit stays outside and idly explores the ranch.

Against a backdrop of Doozey's gentle mooing, Utar gives the vulture a wave and watches it fly off. To be honest, he wasn't sure what would happen, but the spell felt like how it had done when he had previously cast it, so he felt fairly certain that the bird wasn't going to die immediately of poisoning.  He guessed that if it wasn't paying attention it might fly into something solid which wouldn't likely be good or run afoul of something larger or scarier that wants to make it dinner, but you can't have everything.

"No harm done, Ferguson," Neya says as she gets down to his level. "Can I ask you a quick question? I was wondering if anything had changed around town before the cows started dying?"

"Someone with a sharp tool attacks at night," the first cow says. "They are small and winged like a bird," adds a second. "Rotten eggs, yes, that's what that smell was," a third one confirms. "Lots of blood," the last one whimpers.

Several yards away, Ferguson converses with Neya, oblivious to the cow-magic happening in the background. "Hmmm... 'fore the cows... Well, everyone was talking 'bout how that halfling hermit went missing. Guess the cows started dropping soon after that."

The farmer, still drunk, asks Utar: "So ya heal vultures too? Anything ya can do for me cows?"

Drawn away from his momentary daydream, Utar turns to the farmer and shakes his head solemnly.  "Not likely for those already dead.  They've organs missing and the power lent to me by Torm doesn't extend that far.  Given how sick that bird was, I would agrue strongly against anyone eating them, I'm afraid the best thing might be to burn their bodies, prevent whatever poisoned that vulture from affecting the townsfolk.  If you wait a moment for my friend to return from his convesation with what's left of the herd, we might be able to come up with something that at least prevents the rest of them being attacked."

Doozey listened intently, stroked his chin, and then after a few moments nodded inwardly at someone unspoken thought. In spite of his first thoughts then being to continue the interview, seeing the third cow whimpering struck a chord with him. Yet just as he's about to approach and do whatever it took to offer a comforting hand, the stoutling held back the hand with the other, and briefly turned away.

 "...And this someone, eh... they've only ever attacked ya out in the fields? Or have they ever tried getting at'cha when ya happen to be in the barn for an evening? And only ever at night." He further inquired. Once Doozey had his answers with a promise to do what he can to rid them of the night terror, before then making his over to the party(and by extension the farmer). "I can't be certain 'till I see the thing fer meself, as the perspective of our more, eh.... mn, bestial counterparts can be a bit skewed. But from what I was able to gather, we're looking more at a fiend's involvement instead of the fey. Though, if Lady Greenteeth is involved, or any other hag for that matter, I... wouldn't put past her to have contracted out the, uh, visits." He said, addressing all. "As for means of protection -- and yes, I did overhear that -- I'm... afraid that might be a bit tricky." He then more pointedly looks to the farmer, though not without first doing a double take seeing the Half-Orc kid again. "Now, I don't mean any offense, but... *sigh*... yer not trying to cover up some personal dealings ya had with the otherworldly are ya? And just using the whole hub-bub over the other agreement the town and Phlan has with the fae, no?"

Farmer Grol nods along with Utar's sage advice. The Tormite can tell that not all parts of his explanation are sinking into Ol' Mr. Grol's mind (passive insight) but he understood enough to get busy: "Alright, I'll fetch some firewood." He points back toward the barn and starts moving that way.

"In the fields," the first cow species following Doozey's freshest question. "Only at night," the second one confirms. "Not every night," the third one elaborates. "But maybe tonight," the last one frightens.

The farmer returns carrying some firewood at about the same time as Doozey is talking about tricky protections and just in time to be spared a pointedly look. "Dealin' wit other what now?" He asks surprised, following that with a foul-mouthed rebuttal: "I wouldn't know the first feckin' thing about any of that!" All CRAPers can tell the man is in no mental or physical state to weave a lie in his labored statements (passive insight.)

He drops the firewood by his feet, not in defiance but in a display of momentary lack of proper control over his own motor skills. Ferguson can't stifle a laugh.

Doozey held up his hand in surrender and gave an apologetic smile. "Like I said, I mean no offense. Just covering me bases, as it wouldn't be the first time for me, or sadly even the second time someone tried to pull face one on a grey hunter." He admits, prior to then stepping over to help Ferguson with gathering back up his firewood.

"But, uh... yea, options are a bit limited on what we can do without staying. Best I can recommend for now is to make sure to bring your cows in at night for at least the next few days. Not the most ideal, perhaps, but better safe than sorry in case the trail I found doesn't quite shake out... which speaking of. I take it we'll be helping Grol 'ere 'fore we go? Or-..." He looks to Denae. "Have we not the time for a little hunt?"

His mood changing quickly, Ol' Mr. Grol responds to Doozey with a simple "Alright" and pointing to the barn to show that he understands that he needs to bring the cows in come the evening. He then collects the firewood from those helping him and adds: "I can set the dead'uns alight as the healer here said. Ya don't have to stay back for that. Go out there and get the bastards that got me cows!"

"Either following the tracks or moving on to the next stop in our list," Denae replies. "Both seem like worthy intel-gathering efforts to me." She then turns to Ferguson and asks: "Which way would Halvin's barn be from here?"

Ferguson responds by simply pointing a path that is loosely in the same direction of the clawed prints Doozey had spotted.  

"I think we've time to go on a little hunt. If this thing attacks at night, it might be weaker during the day."

"Probably not safe to assume that without knowing what, exactly, it is." Neya cautions. "But, yes, if we can stop it before it can act again, these people can rest more easily."

After the group agreement, CRAP follows the tracks Doozey had identified. During the walk, Denae keeps turning her head to look at Ferguson, who has seemingly been instructed not to leave your side again and, hence, is coming along for the stroll. It doesn't take long for her stares to produce an effect, with the boy soon confirming his previous suspicion: "I guess we are going to Halvin's barn after all."

The walk proves to be be longer than what the party might have suspected. More than a couple of hours pass, which lends more credibility to Ferguson's hunch according to the general distances Hupe had described to CRAP before their departure this morning. Utar is the first to notice a Kabel's Hill resident in the distance, walking in the opposite direction as CRAP and seemingly returning to town from a hunt as evidenced by the carcass of a small deer the man is dragging on a sled. "I told you he was up to no good" are the words shared by the man as you cross paths with him, giving you assurance that he can already tell where you are going. Neya gets the impression this hunter is the kind of person who is always suspicious and tends to confirm their bias after the fact.

Unless stopped, the hunter continues on his way.

"So Doozey's tracks are leading us to Halsin's barn? Ferguson, if anything happens, stay behind me and if you get the chance, you run, hard. Get back to Kabel's Hill, we'll follow on."

"Here's to hoping things aren't as bad as I'm starting to think." Is Doozey comment in response to Ferguson's confirmation. After which, he dons once more a professional air and kept quietly to the task of a tracker... with Biscuit ever at his side, of course! But while the long trek itself hardly bothers the duo, both slow down almost in unison after passing by the Hunter, then turned on the man with confused looks about them. Short of someone else beating the stoutling to the punch in addressing the hunter first,  if not signalling not to engage, Doozey calls back, "Ehhh, Beggin yer pardon. But clearly to elaborate a bit more there sir?"

"Sounds like it," Denae responds to Utar's possibly rhetorical question. Ferguson nods along with the instructions the cleric delivers shortly after. The boy has given no indication that he knows how to properly fight and seems a bit anxious now that Utar appears more concerned about what may be ahead.  

Later, as the hunter passes the party, Doozey takes a few extra steps before engaging the man. The hunter looks back, thinks for a second, points in the direction CRAP is going, and explains: "You are going in the direction of Halvin's barn, are you not? I always had my suspicions about that hermit. He clearly lived off the sale of his woodcarvings in town, so why shelter so far away from Kabel's Hill. Well, I tell you, he was up to no good, that's why!" The hunter clicks his tongue and turns to leave, unable to further substantiate his claims.

"Typical small town gossip," Denae comments as the man moves out of earshot. "Let's go see if we can find any proof to vindicate the hunter, or if he is full of bull-dung." She steps onward and takes the lead for the last bit of the trek. Ferguson is now in the back of the line, keeping close to Utar. It doesn't take much longer for you to spot Halvin's place up in the distance.

The approach to the farmhouse ahead leads you into a small hollow within a copse of trees right on the edge of the forest proper. The house has definitely seen better days, as evidenced by the loose boards and shingles, the peeling whitewash, and the handful of stones that have fallen from the leaning chimney. A small barn, around in the back, leans even more, and vines have grown up to cover most of it. The tracks CRAP has been following move past the house and toward the barn.

Utar stops in his tracks. Looking at Ferguson, he drops his voice to a whisper. "Remember what I told you earlier, lad. Find a place to hide. If you need to, run. Fast as you can. You saw those cows, lad. Don't let the same happen to you."

Dropping his hand to his waist, it comes up gripping Bonecounter. In a similar practiced motion, his shield is shrugged from his shoulder and the half-orc looks ready for battle.

"Mn. Though given the trail, things aren't exactly looking great." Doozey admits after making sure the hunter was out of ear shot. With that said, he fell in step behind Denae, though stayed alert and ready to course correct on the off chance the trail somehow deviated during the last trek.

"Hmn. Looks like either our Halvin didn't care much for tending to his abode 'fore he made his disappearance, or vegetation here is truly not to be trifled with." Doozey halfheartedly joked and gestured to the vine. Only after which does he note the defensive posture of Utar. "Guess that means it's up to us, 'ssuming the door isn't feeling very compliant today." He adds in the approach to the barn, side-stepping addressing the caution from his Half-Orc compatriot. The stoutling began moving closer fully intent on testing the strength of his gauntlets. Though almost moments before within ten feet of the barn, has an epiphany and holds up a hand to halt anyone that followed him (assuming nothing jumped the party by then). "I'm... not sure if this'll work, but I... I think I'm ready to try something me Mum used to be able to do. Just, eh... just be on guard, I guess." He says to the party, prior to then turning on the vegetation once more.

One last deep steadying breath later and then the party begins to hear the familiar weaving of alien words that were at once both melodic and wispy. But whereas in most cases his drawing on the strength of natural energies were either subtle in the build up, the air around them would actually begin to quicken and stir feelings of something primal and ancient taking notice of them, before having its focus and power directed elsewhere. Doozey seems to flinch at that point, but persists in uttering a final word and offhand gesture of the hand, calming the wind and completing the spell. "Okay, that, uh.... y-yea, that aughta have done it. Now to see if the local Greens, eh, know what's what." He says, before directing his next words to the vines in an older dialect of Sylvan. "Sorry to disturb ya, but, eh... sensing anything dead or foul making its way nearby? Likely it was, uhh, felt 'wrong' in itself, and was carrying the dead?"

-Casting Speak with Plants using Primal Awareness freebie.

"It's almost looking at a ghost." Neya says looking around at the seemingly abandoned land before them. "Almost being the key word, we've seen them in the cemetery back in Phlan. They're not nearly as ominous."

She keeps an eye out for any strange movement.

Perception: 21

As the group walks past the house and toward the barn, Utar prepares for what feels like an imminent fight, while Neya makes sure she is aware of her surroundings. The human notices nothing remarkable about the house they are walking past, outside or in. In fact, she catches a glimpse of a common area through a broken window, noticing that it looks as much in disrepair as the outside of the house, dim and dusty. Neya also sees a window leading to a kitchen/dining area and another one leading into a bedroom, but these seem well shut, almost purposely so. 

Ferguson agrees with Utar. "I am ready to run," he says after swallowing some of his own saliva. He looks around his feet and picks up a crooked stick. "Just in case," he says, clearly afraid now. Ferguson keeps his distance from the group, standing in the field a good ways away from both the house and the barn. He can still see CRAP, and you can still see him.

The approach to the barn holds no surprises. Well, there was one surprise, but it was delivered by CRAP's own halfling. Doozey weaves a strange spell in his words and gestures, and then begins addressing the vegetation creeping up the barn as he would any stranger we wanted to meet. The nearby vegetation suddenly becomes more animated and sentient, even being able to communicate basic events by ways of rudimentary mimicry of a simple humanoid face formed by bark, green tendrils, and leaves. They respond in the same ancient Sylvain dialect uttered by Doozey: "A small, heavy, winged creature has set its roots within this human-made structure. There used to be two creatures, but the non-winged one has not come this way in the most recent cycle of the moon." 

"I-I see. And it is still within the structure, then? The winged one, that is. I suppose that makes some things easier. But.. hmm... I hate to ask, but if it were possible for you to keep it trapped within it, what might you wish for in exchange? Or at least make it difficult for it to slip out while we step inside to, eh, converse with it?" Doozey asks with a certain note of uncertainty to his voice. But he held his grounds and tried not to show any further sign of surprise at the results of the magic. Biscuit, on the otherhand, simply kept his head turned ot the side, confused as to what to even make of not-so-plant-like-plant.

The beast then looked to his ranger compatriot, but even after the latter had received an answer, he appeared to become too lost in thought to notice. With a start, Doozey remembers the others and quickly conveys a summerized version of the conversation in common before inviting, "Don't s'pose any of ya have anything I might ask our friends here?" He gestures to the mass. "I have maybe a thing or two more I wish to convey, but figured if ya might have questions of yer own, I can ask as well."