"Well, we might as well all use the excuse to get a little closer."
Green and Norton get about 50 feet closer when someone exits the oak structure - carrying something in one hand. You cannot immediately discern the race (could be human) or what they are carrying. As the person begins walking to one of the carriages, he appears to notice Green and Norton... and waves casually.
He does not immediately do anything... he just stands and watches Green and Norton approach.
he's holding a stein
You could hear singing while the door was open.
Norton waves back at the figure.
"So far so good." He whispers to Green
"Hello there!" he says at a higher volume. "My name is Norton Ambrosi. Me and my company were traveling these lands and saw this outpost. We stopped to say 'Hi' and see who is living here."
Sonechka hangs back while Norton and Green approach. She whispers to Glaza, who flies off to make a low circle around the camp. As the advance team does their job, she tries to think about who might be living out here that would be as good with plants and fungi as this group appeared to be.
She whispers to the group near her. "My guess is that the building is some kind of tavern. The man is holding a stein and people are singing inside."
The man between the unmarked tavern and harrower carriage raises his stein as Norton first greets him, then nods bleary-eyed with the full greeting. "As't please ye sir. Name's Turnip." He turns his stein to show the engraved image of a turnip. "Bit rum-muddled to chat, and me cot doth pine for me dozing bulk. Can take your man and your well-heeled self far as the door o'yonder, and herald yon arrival with what fanfare I can muster.. if't please ye sir." He tries to bow, but has to support himself with the carriage nestled in the off-path overgrowth.
He appears human with perhaps a touch of "exotic" heritage. Ruddy complexion and light-blond beard turning white... he looks to be near 50. He is dressed in a worn tunic and light leather. He carries a wide-bladed dagger sheathed on his hip. With his puffy eyelids and swept back hair covering the tops of his ears, clear indicators of his heritage are hidden from view.
There are a few large tents directly behind the tavern.
People are working at tables (3 visible)
Others working with animal skins. (2 visible)
200 feet behind the tavern is another house "footprint" with exterior cellar door. It is unclear from Glaza if this is a cleaned up ruins, or house early in construction. (Other than the cellar door, all that exists is the flooring and foundation for walls.)
You cannot think of any poisonous fungus which could grow in that environment that wasn't there. There are several underground races which are known to be master cultivators.
The foot prints you have been following are very very similar to gnome footprints... maybe a gnome "variant" you are unaware of.
The design of the tavern is too minimalist to give any clues, but the carriages are definitely similar to what you have seen in artist depictions of wandering harrowers with ties to the First World.
This location is the exact center of the "?" on the map.
The Green Man briefly considers being insulted at being mistaken for a servant, but standing next to Norton he concedes that there might be a point to it.
Instead he continues to hang back a little, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible, while trying to determine if the man is truly drunk or merely acting.
Sonechka shakes her head, though no one had spoken. She continues speaking quietly to the others near her. "But this is right where the Magpies put the question mark on the map. I'm inclined to be wary of a place that's shielded itself from divination out in the middle of nowhere like this."
The Green Man nods to himself, happy that things seems to be on the up and up for now.
Leaving Norton to take the lead, he hangs back, but once they are shown into the tavern he takes a deep breath and begins to belt out a song in an attempt to fit in.
A long time ago, way back in history
When all there was to drink was nothing but cups of tea
Along came a man by the name of Charlie Mops
And he invented a wonderful drink and he made it out of hops
He might have been an admiral, a sultan, or a king
And to his praises we shall always sing
Look what he has done for us, he's filled us up with cheer
Lord bless Charlie Mops,
The man who invented beer
The Jury's Bar, the Clancy's Pub, the Hole in the Wall as well
One thing you can be sure of, it's Charlie's beer they sell
So come on all me lucky lads at eleven O'clock ye stops
For five short seconds, remember Charlie Mops
One, two, three, four, five
He might have been an admiral, a sultan, or a king
And to his praises we shall always sing
Look what he has done for us, he's filled us up with cheer
Lord bless Charlie Mops,
The man who invented beer
A barrel of malt, A bushel of hops, you stir it with a stick,
The kind of lubrication to make your engine tick.
Forty pints of wallop a day will keep away the quacks.
It's only eight pence ha'p'ny a pot and one and six in tax
One, two, three, four, five
He might have been an admiral, a sultan, or a king
And to his praises we shall always sing
Look what he has done for us, he's filled us up with cheer
Lord bless Charlie Mops,
The man who invented beer
The Lord bless Charlie Mops!
Green receives a mixed reaction from the six inside the tavern. They had apparently just finished singing, and were refreshing their drinks to wash down the last of their meals. Turnip just leaves.
A couple look wary, the one serving seems unconcerned... One man stands on his chair, and joins Green in accompaniment with his accordion-like squeezebox by the second verse.
By the end, the only one still with displaying an unfriendly air, is a woman whose frown looks like a permanent fixture. In fact the frown lines in her drooping face are so deep, it looks like one could pluck her chin clean off. She just continually mutters "don't know that one can't sing what I don't know why are they even here no chains no shackle not dogs not prey singing songs I don't know"... etc.
The man who had played along with Green approaches. He looks like an understated fop with a layer of grunginess. His trimmed mustache is dwarfed by his wide smile.
His voice is smooth and accent lilting, and he is smiling... a lot. "Good day singing strangers to Pub Clat and Clew! My fellows call me Yarnball, and you may do the same." He bows, then shakes his head smiling. "How uncommonly delightful to have proper guests! May I offer a modest reward for the trouble of your names, my gents?" He gestures to the server.
"Interesting. Should we move a bit closer to the place, just in case there's something funny afoot? Worst case scenario, maybe we can all grab a quick round of ale, if things are calm in there.
Sonechka shakes her head and sighs. "We might have wanted to establish some sort of signal to tell each other things are well or whether help is needed. If this is the Beldame's home those two could already be in a century-long sleep. Or they could be happily drinking with nothing the matter. I say give them a few minutes then we go inside ourselves."
She nods at Dolgrym. "Let's try to circle around. Glaza says there are more buildings on the far side of the tavern. We can give them a look then go into the tavern."
Furiel points to the man.
"We follow him out back. Discretion is not gonna happen with Kane gone."
Furiel moves quickly.
Sonechka sighs and looks over at Dolgrym as Furiel hustles out into the open after the drunk harrower. "Discretion seems more of a choice than a job description, to me. One that I prefer to rushing in. What is your preference, Dolgrym?"
The Green Man smiles amiably, but wants to let Norton lead for now, so he does his best to affect a persona of being big, kind and maybe just a little slow.
"Glat n' clew? Funny name dat, what's it mean?"
"I agree with Sonechka. No reason to go running about all crazy. If they have trouble, I trust we'll be able to see the scrum break out...then we go in running. I say we head in carefully and give them time to work."
"It is what we call our little entourage, my handsome unburdened fellow."
Though he is responding to Green, Yarnball's attention seems to have moved to Norton.
"Some say it is what we all become when we arrive here to serve our time... and pay our debts while wallowing in guilt."
"I for one... find no shame , and can not remember being anything but a worm."
*** *** *** *** *** ***
Outside...
From where you, there appears to be just one long stretch of ground without cover to get to a decent vantage point - to see what the mug-wielding fellow is up to.
Though you see no one who might have eyes on you, there are two tavern windows from which one could see you.
You could move closer to the tavern, and sneak under the windows... but then you really would need to be stealthy.
If you were to circle back and take a wide berth, there would be plenty of woods for cover... but it would take 10-15 minutes of travel. (and take you further away if there happened to be trouble)
So Furiel leaps to the sky grasping his cloak and changing into an eagle. His items folding into feathers as he flies.
His perception enhanced, He quickly beats the figure to his destimation.
"Making amends for one's own wrong doing is quite admirable. But let me say..." Norton looks around the place "...you are lucky indeed, I have seen far worse joints assigned to such use."
"Lucky? Perhaps... and call it amends if you wish, but time and labor is all that's asked of us."
"Now please, good sirs, you have me by great lengths at a disadvantage. To continue this idle banter with no utterance of any moniker by which I may address you... I fear would paint me the fool."
Sonechka nods at Dolgrym and gestures at the one path that provides cover. "I'll deepen the shadows when we get to the part where we have to break cover. Hopefully that will help. And Glaza can tell us if anyone is near the window."
"Apologise my rudeness. I'll tell you our names, even though they might wreck a little ruckus. But I'm not used to lie and I trust we are all gentlemen enough to face situations calmly. As I already told Turnip I'm Norton, from the Ambrosi family. Here with me is Green, who tends not to speak about his family much."
Ah, there goes the covers, I guess it's just a question of seeing what they'll do next then.
The other patrons look a little unnerved... except for Yarnball and the frowning woman - who nods as if she knew all along.
"Well I suppose it was just a question of when, when you are where you are, and we here... a prismati ball-toss away. If I may.. dare risk such boldness myself, have you split from your group to shake your tail? If it had been up to me, we would have put a more skilled agent on you. Beldame does tend to play favorites in assigning us our odd jobs"
He stops for a moment... his smiling expression does not change.
"And what precisely is the purpose of this visit? Should we be concerned?"
This draws a slight chuckle from a few patrons... easing tension among them, but the overall "dynamics" of the situation is not easy to read.
The Green Man shrugs, letting his façade of slowness fade and he straightens up and smiles a more sincere smile.
"I seriously doubt it myself. From what we have seen and heard so far, I do not believe we need to be at odds at all.
I'll come right out and say that when there is need to fight, I will fight, mercilessly if need be.
But I am not yet convinced I need draw my weapon when there are still words to be exchanged."
"For starters, why don't we even the playing field a little and have you introduce everyone else so that all names will be known?"
Yarnball nods affably as Green speaks "Naturally... no need for conflict."
"I can do that. The tall gentleman serving us today is Stovepipe. Seated here we have Miss Cornsilk, Porkchop, and Duckfoot."
"And of course, the always charming... milady Abacus." The frowning woman is busy tearing the last hunks of bread from a hollowed out bread round... balling up the chunks into the size of peas, and lining them up.
"Have anything to add, milady?"
Abacus continues to mutter "can't have my table all my things are here would not work at all I need my things but I need my things to stay here too much to carry around must not be disturbed...." You see her hands are burned black, and her eyes are clouded.
You catch up to the mug-wielding fellow as he is a few steps from rounding the corner to the back of the tavern. You can land on the corner edge of the roof or tentpole and be within earshot of any conversation of those in back.
If you were intending to intervene with the man before he gets there, you would have to act fast.
You may also spend a moment to find a spot to land where you can change back to gnome-form.
Eagle-Furiel is content to watch for now.
Man sorting herbs at a table: "What is? ... What.. they here?"
Turnip: "Two of em. Went inside."
Herb-sorting man: "Yarnballs in there. If there's trouble, we'll hear. Go to sleep, Turnip... no use in fight should it come anyway."
The mug-toting fellow, Turnip, dutifully turns to walk back to his camper.
The others exchange looks for a few moments in silence, until the herb-sorting man says "Alright... you want me to go check? Wait here... we don't wanna muck anything up. Buckle... go make sure Snowmold stays on guard duty for a while. He's not one to have about in delicate situations." he casually gestures toward the cellar door down the path behind the tavern.
Sonechka and Dolgrym reach their new concealed spot behind a brush pile... in time to see the mug-toting fellow turning back toward the front of the tavern.
There are five others here. One is just now going in the back door of the tavern. Another is walking toward the cellar door down the path.
Two appear to be sorting and/or packaging things, and one is scraping a small stretched skin. There is no conversation when you arrive.
"I'm happy to see that we can keep this meeting civilised. We know your boss... may I call her that way? Has us followed and at the moment we appear to be on different sides of the fence. What we would like to know is if there is any chance we can try to settle things in a diplomatic way."
"Not likely... that is not how the game is played, my friendly foe. But you are more than welcome to strive for a peaceful resolution. Beldame will be along tonight if you care to make your case to her. She is the one who holds our hands and our chips at the table."
A stout dark-bearded man comes in from the backdoor, and asks "How we doin in here?"
Yarnball answers over his shoulder "I think we are alright, Mr Mallet. If you could spare a worker bee or two, have them track down Barndoor. I fear he may have gotten lost in the woods."
Sonechka watches the activity behind the tavern for a while before turning to Dolgrym. "It doesn't look like anything nefarious is going on out here. What do you think? Go in or keep watch?"
Dolgrym, Furiel, and Sonechka see the man exit the back door of the tavern again. He immediately speaks to the two sorting/prepping at the table. "Go see if you can find Barndoor. Last known location is by that gnome camp. Might wanna pick up the trail of the two who just showed up... backtrack.. Barndoor was s'posed to be on them."
The man walking back toward the house foundation 150-200 feet back, reaches the cellar door and knocks.
There was a deliberate pattern to the knock. "Knock, pause, knock knock, pause, knock."
You also hear the man giving orders mutter "And he should'a dang well warned us of them comin here"
"Ah, you don't need to look for Barndoor OR his troll companion.
Barndoor is currently enjoying our hospitality, more or less out of his own free will I might add."
The Green Man rubs his face a little in confusion.
"I'm a little curious, you sound like you think the idea of striving for a peaceful resolution is pointless, or at the very least futile.
So it is merely a question of you being amused that makes you invite us to continue?"
Furiel begins to create an elemental earth friend. He knew friends of Barndoor were most likely dangerous.
His eagle ears easily caught the cellar door conversation.
Sonechka sighs and looks at Dolgrym. "If they're at all competent they'll see all our tracks when they backtrail Norton and Green." She nods at the cellar door. "The question is, do we follow into the cellar with the coded knock or do we go upstairs and support our friends?"
"Hmm... pardon me one moment." Yarnball goes to the back door. "Cancel that order... we know where Barndoor is."
He then returns to Norton and Green.
"Bit more than that to be honest, and bit less than that for which to take offense. You're arrival has taken the legwork out of spying on you. As long as I glean more from this visit than you, I feel that is a good day's work. I assume, the same is true for you." He shrugs.
"Let the games begin?"
*** *** *** *** ***
Dolgrym, Furiel, and Sonechka see another man lean out the door, and say.. "Cancel that order... we know where Barndoor is." They all head back to what they had been working on.
The isolated cellar door opens, and the man outside enters.
Most have sylvan or fae-like features ... none have an appearance that says definitely not fae.
"Heh, something tells me that the deck may be slightly stacked in your favour my friend.
But us Ulfen tends to hit all the harder when we begin in a weaker position, it brings out the fighting spirit."
"Shall we play a question for a question? We must each answer the others question to the best of our ability, never lie, but we can be as evasive as we like as long as what we say is true and honest."
Furiel is not an eagle anymore as he has not the magic talent to cast in animal form.
He hopes his position is secure. Any cover he tries to take advantage of.
"Well I can hardly refuse that." Yarnball glances over to Abacus - who gives him a warning look.
Yarnball waves her off dismissively "Beldame's already got me for more years than I expect to live... I'll take full responsibility, milady Abacus."
Yarnball addresses Green and Norton again. "Alright... guests first. Fire away."
There are a few places with cover... best spot depends on where you would like it to materialize. (I don't want to guess because I'm not sure what you are intending)