(oops, I always mix up ettin and ettercaps.  They're ettercaps.). The ettercaps are around inside.  They can see each other and seem to be living together in relative peace.  Though....if a bunch more ettercaps showed up in here you're not sure what kind of social etiquette you're like to be subjected to. 

The group, under guise of Fianna's illusion, position themselves around the bottom of the gorge just near the mouth of the cave, before it dives down inside. A couple of the other ettins come crawling up once in a while, glance around...seeing the bunch of you their emotionless blank bulbous eyes stare for a few moments, before they scampers back down into the cave.  Soon darkness begins to shroud the forest. FinFin's perch near the top of the canopy scans the skies, but soon the horizon grows dark and her vision is cut from horizon to horizon, to a few dozen feet.  Still, she listens....the sound of a large beast flying through the air would not be silent. 

Meanwhile, down below, hours begin to pass. When the darkness comes, a group of six ettercaps come crawling up out of the cave. They pause as they glance around at you. You can almost hear the cogs grinding in their skulls...before they scamper past you and head out into the forest to hunt.  Evening turns into night, and soon you're all starting to feel a little groggy.  The pack of ettercaps return, dragging a dead young deer and clutching several rabbits.  They move into the cave, though as they do so they move amongst the party. Soon....each of you is counting the number of party members, and the number that went into the cave, and wondering if....is there one extra of you?  Ettercaps all glance around looking for green nails and leaves on backs. An extra ettercap is sitting nearby, digging in the ground....that is not of the group. You all wait a few minutes until the thing finally ends its digging, resulting in a long worm being drawn from the ground and consumed.  It scampers away into the cave. Fianna, you have to cast your spell again to continue the illusion. Toc mutters, "Are we planning on sleeping here like this?"

Jahren, you receive a message, it's from Candour, "Jahren. Bad news. The trade guilds have secretly accepted the dragons deal. Also, the keeper at the house you were at has been abducted. Mystery."

(That was a frightening thought! :) Never mind the questions)

Chen doesn't want to risk a fire, thinking it would be a dead give-away, but prepares some food for the group anyway. Having recently come from Hillsfar, his supplies are still fresh, and some soft cheese and mixed nuts with a bit of spiced sausage rolled up in some flat bread make a refreshing cold meal. Hoping to contribute to the illusion, Chen suggests that he may be able to use the magic of his cloak to create some webs across the gorge. The magic only works once a day and only lasts for an hour, so would need to be done quickly as soon as the warning comes from FinFin. 

     Fianna easily enough casts the spell again.  Having seen (and smelled) Ettercaps up close now she tweaks the Seeming a bit to be a bit more realistic.  ((Ok, spell cannot do oder... Just being glib...))

     "If you wish to summon your mansion, I wouldn't say no to a soft bed," Fianna answers Toc.  "Just one of us could perhaps watch out the door to see if a dragon stops by?"

((No reaction to Jahren's news yet as not been advised of it yet))

Toc shakes his head, "No, this morning Jahren and I used our teleports to get Chen and the horses here.  I can't make a mansion tonight. We're roughing it." 

Jezun offers to climb around the top of the cave and behind to see if there's anyplace more promising to camp out -- a culvert out of sight, somewhere comfortable, for the ettercaps to nest out of full, obvious view, and perhaps a better place to ambush an incoming dragon.

"One night on the rocks would not kill us. Even two nights." Mirica liked comfort as much as the next person, but really, they all were used to the wilderness enough. And Chen's meal made up for the rest. "We have the scale... May be I can scry for the dragon's whereabouts? Not sure, though, how our new "brethren" would react."

     “If they start something, we’ll end it before it becomes a thing.  I’d just prefer to not waste the energies on being preemptive about it not knowing when we may be visited from above... hate for them to only show up when we’re all depleted.” Fianna advised.

Ettercap-Mirica reached out for her bag - only to slap her forehead in embarrassment. "Ahem... Toc? You do not happen to have somewhere on you that scrying crystal, do you?"

Toc mutters, "Yes yes, of course."  A large chest appears in front of one of the ettin with a flash.  He opens it up and pulls out a crystal ball.  Then the chest is closed and vanishes in a small spiral vortex. He hands the crystal ball, wrapped in velvet, to Mirica. 

"Thank you!" Mirica exhaled with relieve, accepted the ball and carefully placed it in the ray of sun (or searched for sunny spot first). One of the green scale (damn, she wanted that armor! Ok, focus!) was placed behind, giving to the crystal nice green shade, then the priest looked deep into the crystal, silently praying to the light and the nature that created all living beings to help to see one of their creation - the dragon, that wore that scale.

     Fianna loiters around Mirica, staying behind her and between her and any ettercaps who may wander nearby.  

Nature to see if Ettercaps would be known to be seen outdoors during the day?  (guessing not)  19

Jahren replies to Candor "Yestrel should accept, retain control of situation.  Need agent in hunt for intel.  Specifics of handoff to dragon helpful.  Will find solution.  Thank you, friend."  Jahren tries to emphasize the sincerity of the last three words after pushing Candour a bit last time they met.

The bard then fills the group in on the latest developments.  He ponders aloud how easily their new pursuers might be able to scry on them and what they could do about that.  He suggests the ultimate solution is obviously to king Verdant Cloud, but they must find her first.  He also tells Toc and the group that their host back at the house has been taken, and asks if Toc or the whole group want to take these trade guild thugs to task for crossing the line against at least some members of the current party. 

     "Wait. Lacy  was kidnapped??  Is that not the only matter to deal with then??"

Mirica focus' on the ball, weaving her magic. 16

She feels the force of will of the dragon unconsciously fighting her magic, but with the scale there linking the magic to the dragon, it has little hope of shaking away from her scrying. In her minds eye she sees the dragon appear. The massive lizard is flying, high in the air, over the forest. It's wings sweep up and down as Mirica tracks it. The long neck bends back and the dragon peers back and looks directly at Mirica...suddenly it's wings flood out and its forward motion comes to a halt. Mirica looks around at the land and water far below, looking for a sign of the dragon's location. It looks like its on the northern fringe of the forest, following the road between Hillsfar and Elventree....with farms and the road far below, the water of the open sea just north of it. 

The dragon halts its progress, and then turns and dives with speed.  The magic follows the creature without trouble as it spreads its wings wide to stop its freefall just before hitting the top of the trees....and then crashes through to the forest below. The dragon glares at Mirica, able to see her sensor without issue...as it stares at her its shrill female voice barks out, "Unwise to attract a dragon's attention in such a way. I wonder who you are, to be so bold. You must be the one who slew my brother. Well....you have my thanks for that. He was a tyrant and a bully and was only growing more vain and cruel with each year. Though my mother is not so happy, I have no complaint. We are looking for you. And not just us, we have agents everywhere. We will find you eventually...and when we do, mother will turn your blood to poison and your every breath will be pain and suffering until you die. Run now, while you still can little worm."  

With that, she weaves a spell and suddenly the vision goes black. The spell is still working, but all you see is darkness.

Toc turns to Jahren and Fianna, "Lacy?"  Emotion washes across his face, finishing with a glare of anger. Deep breaths flare his nostrils as he tries to calm himself. "Yes, Fianna. Lacy has become my priority."

Mirica let the bond fall (or, better say, did not try to reconnect) and slowly returned to the present. "She was flying along the road between Hillsfar and Elventree." She described position as best she could. "The mother is determined to kill us. The daughter suggested to run while we can probably to enjoy a good chase."

The look of surprisingly emotional Toc fully returned her to reality: "What is it about Lacy?"

     “I’m prepared to lay waste to any and all that harm a hair on that woman’s head.  I do not take kindly to those who treat ill those who have treated me well,” Fianna says coldly.

     She turns to Mirica. “Can you scry again?  Try to locate Lacy, see those who took her?”

Mirica just nodded, put the scale into her bag and concentrated on shining center of the ball again, recalling the image of Lacy, her kind talks, small laughter - everything they all knew and loved. (Wis 18 for save)

Mirica concentrates as she casts another spell. Like a ripple in the water, an image emerges in her minds eye. She appears to be bound and laying on her back. There's a rough sack over her head. Looking around, Mirica sees she's in a dark basement. There is a dim lantern light come from above, the floor boards and beams of the floor above let silt filter down as someone above walks around. The basement is filled with dusty furniture, sacks and creates of various everyday goods...and shelves of junk. It could be the basement to almost any home. The floor is dirt and the walls are stone. Hidden under the stairs, sitting on a crate, is a young boy. He looks filthy.  He has a knife in his hands and is carving a rough picture of two people in a sword fight, into the lid of a wooden box. He is clearly not an artist, and looks like a street kid who is passing the time and looking rather bored.