He looks into the age and direction of the tracks left by his newfound prey.
The tracks look to be only a few hours old - the ground's soft, so the DC to follow the human tracks is 10, to follow the cat is 11.
Guthruc gets tangled up in the shuffling the man and feline made through the camp, eventually winding up tracking Abaos and Mr. Blinky's footprints instead.
Does Akbalos and the prey wear the same size and shape of footwear? Would that make Azbakos taste better?
He begins to ponder what makes a humanoid taste good
Jen watches as the orc walks in a circle and scans the ground more carefully for what he's trying to follow.
Upon realizing that he's tracking a set of prints, she lets out a small sigh of defeat. Perhaps I really should have paid more attention during basic wilderness training... She'd always relied on the regular soldiers for those essential things like food and setting camp and clean water. Essential things she sucked at.
Even after the tracks have been pointed out, Ozzy still fails to see them. Mr. Blinky walks around in circles for a while, only managing to confuse Guthruc even more. Mr. Winky isn't much help, either.
Awn smiles.
"I like cats!"
He watches the marks of disturbance to see if they tell a tale of tails, or no tail.
And Iorskan was fairly good at following tracks, for that was how he ate. He did what he could to be of assistance.
Bright Awn recognizes the cat's tracks as belonging to a puma (use the stats of a leopard). With a 20 for Knowledge: Nature, you can go ahead and read the statblock. Pumas aren't the most dangerous of ambush predators, but they're dangerous ambush predators. Fortunately, they seldom attack humanoids, and pretty much never attack large groups.
This particular human, Bright Awn can tell from it's tracks, seems to have been coexisting peaceably with whoever made camp here - the human and cat tracks overlap frequently, so they were in the same area at the same time, and there's no obvious signs of a scuffle.
Following the tracks doesn't take the party well out of it's way - in fact, it might even have sped them along in their journey, as the footprints point you towards game trails free of underbrush, fallen trees bridging streams that'd otherwise need fording, and the easiest paths over or around uneven terrain.
At some point the woodsman and puma stopped for lunch. They made a rather large fire pit, ringed round with stones, to roast their midday meal over, and the bones of whatever it was the puma caught are scattered in the pit, charred and with the flesh picked off them.
Eventually, as the sun nears the ground in the east, Mr. Winky and Bokken's bird, out ahead of the party, find where the tracks lead - a massive and hollow oak tree, wide enough around to comfortably set a table for six inside.
Inside the tree are two piles of rugs for sleeping on, one of which is occupied by a puma. There's also a table, around which sit an old man, broad-shouldered and dressed in dead animals, with wild hair and beard, and three horned young gentlemen who happen to be goats from the waist down. On the table is an incongruously fancy meal, ham and vegetables and roast swan and other pseudo-medieval fare, served on shining silver platters. Much of it has already found it's way into the contented bellies of those sitting around the table, but there's more to eat than can be eaten.
Mr. Winky directs Ozzy to a humanoid skull in the bushes, which she points out to her companions.
Jen looks at the bones and is immediately reminded of the skeletal models from her basic anatomy courses. "Uh..." she says, tentatively, "I don't know if we want to rush in after this thing without a plan." As the two flying fellows wing off, she hurries behind with resignation written on her features.
"It eats people-" Jen looks at Iorskan and Guthruc, the group's resident maneaters. "Although, I guess that's more of a bonding opportunity than a deterrent, at this point," she concedes.
Awn stares at the oak tree's girth, then up to its stately branches. He looks at the cavernous hollow and nods to Jen.
"As ever, caution is prudent. I suggest we smoke them out."
Iorskan’s eyes lit up. ”Burn it down? Alright!” The juvenile wyrm prepared to do just that.
Awn holds out a steadying hand.
"Lord Iorskan, no. Not burn it, not the tree. Make smoke. Cause those within to find breathing difficult, and come out where we are prepared. Can you do that? Much harder I think." the woodborn finishes with a gleam in his eyes.
"Ozzy - can Mr Winky fly in and look without being seen?"
Iorskan shook his head. ”No smoke without fire.” And just when he thought that Awn was becoming cool. Well, one could still hope that he’d learn the love of fire.
"Lord Iorskan, no. Not burn it, not the tree. Make smoke. Cause those within to find breathing difficult, and come out where we are prepared. Can you do that? Much harder I think."
"Prepared? Guthruc always prepared. Maybe new warband soldiers!" Guthruc walks closer to the tree, club and diplomacy at the ready
The winged wisp of shadowstuff slips through the opening in the tree, seeing the stuff in the spoiler, then comes right back out to report what he saw, most likely going completely unnoticed.
Assuming the inhabitants don't spot him and give chase as he leaves, Ozzy will relay the information to the others.
Mr. Winky’s used to going unnoticed - perhaps that explains his carelessness in allowing the horned gentlemen to see him.
“Hello there! No need to skulk, draw up a chair, have something to eat.” The satyr who spoke, the oldest looking of the three (though, appearances ofttimes decieve when dealing with immortal fey), bearded and possessed of a truly impressive hornspan, either hasn’t realized or doesn’t care that Mr. Winky’s chair-drawing prowess is sadly lacking. With a not altogether sane look in his eye the bearded fey reiterates: “Sit down. Eat. You look like you’ve a story to tell - do share.”
If Mr. Winky resists the compulsion and leaves, the satyrs and their esteemed host will follow him out-of-doors.
Through her link, Ozzy hears the satyr's words words as if a distant echo through her link with Mr. Winky, then feels her control of the shadowy eidolon begin to slip away. Fearing losing him entirely, she pulls back on the link, and in a puff, Mr. Winky disappears. Beside her, Mr. Blinky does the same. From their position a safe distance outside, Ozzy whispers to the others, They can control your with their voices! Use your earplugs! As she says this, her own are already in hand, and she slips them in as soon as she finishes speaking.
Akiros, Auchs, Bokken, Dharak, and Townsend put their earplugs in. Townsend, rather nervously, says something that no one wearing earplugs can make out.
Having nothing to carry earplugs in, Iorskan panicked. And he did the one thing that came natural to him when panicking.
It wasn’t a particularly impressive blast, hurried as it was. But it made a point!
Awn plugs his ears too, though to be honest he's still a little hazy as to why.
He fives a big thumbs up to Iorskan as the flames shoot out.
Guthruc overconfidentally ignore's Ozzy's order.
"Guthruc train with Anura. Guthruc resist voice power!"
Then, as Iorskan roasts a nearby bird in panic, Guthruc remembers that he was holding onto Iorskan's earplugs for him. He retrieves the charred raven and produces the earplugs for the dragon, who as of late, was approaching eye-level with the towering orc.
"Half each?" As he holds out the bird. "We strong are enough not need to earplugs the, but you if them want, here"
Jen quickly stuffs the plugs in her ears. Then, reaching into Elminster's saddlebags, she pulls out writing materials.
She hastily scrawls out a message suggesting she cast Protection from Evil on their best negotiator and that the group send them in to talk to the satyrs. A moment after holding up her rudimentary sign, she looks at the already-smoldering tree and sighs in exasperation.
Knowing full well that nobody can hear her, she mutters, "Even the best laid plans of ratfolk and elves go awry..."
She modifies her sign to note that the spell would still be useful if the tree-dudes come out.
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Abaos also puts his earplugs in. Speaking Draconic, he tells the kobolds to do the same.
He looks to Jen's words, and scrawls, No good. Don't trust. Run, come back later?
He then shakes his head, and adds For Ozzy's pet. Come back. If we can help, not go back.
It's fairly obvious he's using shorthand to write quickly- drawing words into the dirt with a stick is a fairly time consuming task, after all.
No one in the tree is trained in Kn. Arcana or Kn. Planes, so it's unlikely that they immediately recognized Mr. Winky for an eidolon. With no reason get up from their meal and go looking for his summoner, the party has no problem leaving the area to regroup.
Once they're a safe distance away, Akiros wants to know, "what's our plan?"
Awn is confused.
"Why are we running from a tree?"
“It’s a boggard tree,” Eadoo explains sagely, “that can control us with it’s voices.”
No... Ozzy says, putting away her earplugs. There were these guys in there. They had big curly horns, and hooves for feet. One of them talked to Mr. Winky, and he had to do what he said. She looks down at the ground forlornly. I had to send him away.
"I don't trust anything that can make us do things we don;t want to do. The worst type of magic," he spits, almost venomously, a tinge lighter.
"Maybe they have a different idea of right and wrong, but that doesn't mean they necessarily want to hurt us," Jen points out. "I mean, all they did was ask Mr. Winky to eat, right?"
Storing her canvas back in Elminster's saddle bags (the donkey for his part not noticing as he munches on the satyrs' backyard), she continues, "I think we should at least find out what they want, and, if they're messing with our minds..." Jen gestures at her spellbook. "It's fair game for me to do the same to them."
"Well, as you said earlier, their version of right and wrong definitely coincides with Iorskan and Guthruc's. Let's see. They eat...people. They control people's minds. Horns on their heads and hooves for feet."
Awn looks pointedly at Iorskan and Guthruc.
"Apart from the mind tricks, that could be our two earnest eaters of the dead, given the right time of day or frame of mind. Obviously good guys."
He smiles.
"I still say we smoke them out, knock them about a bit and then question them while they can't mess with our minds. It's the only way to be sure."
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Abaos looks to Bright Awn. "This is still within our proposed territory, correct? I guess we should treat with them."
He sighs heavily. "Jen, you've permission to see what it is they desire. However," his voice raises higher "they've already found our best scout."
He drops back to normal. "Let that sink in. We're putting ourselves at risk. Whatever it is that happens, we're not sneaking up on these guys."
"Earplugs in. Keep your paper out, Jen, and we'll talk that way. I want you in their minds the second you can get us there. We go in full force, everyone ready for battle. I hate to be impolite neighbors, but better safe than sorry, right? If all goes well, Jen, myself, and Bright Awn discover who they are and what their intentions are. If they prove a threat, we send them away. Everyone clear?"
"If you'll pardon my speaking out of turn . . . Abaos," Akiros stumbles for a moment looking for the right honorific, and decides to go without one. He hopes it doesn't come across as too familiar. "I'd come with you, if you'd have me. I'll stop my ears against their mental control, and, should negotiations break down, I will strive to save you. I understand it perfectly if you do not trust in my judiciousness enough to put yourselves in a position where you cannot correct me; bring with you someone better known to yourself, if this is the case, or perhaps in addition if not."
Auchs volunteers his services as well. "I have good joo . . . joodicious . . . nest. If they try to eat you, I'll hit them."
Jen nods in assent at Abaos' words. "So let me clarify," she says. "I'm going to cast, then you, me, Awn, and these two" she jerks her hand at Auchs and Akiros. "Go in to negotiate, earbuds in and parchment out. And we're not going to snoop on them from afar because we're not a bunch of gibbering cranium rats."
"If need, Guthruc provide... encourage" Guthruc cracks his knuckles and gives a sadistic grin, fantasizing about the feeling of snapping bone and torn flesh.
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Awn smiles at Auchs, and carefully places a hand on the ogre's chest.
"Good Auchs, your judicious nest lives in here, with your heart. It has precious precious eggs of kind...nest that nest within. Protect it. Smash those who would threaten it."
To Abaos and Akiros:
"[*schzing!!!*] Perhaps Akiros can go after you Abaos, to learn the ways and wiles from a seasoned master. I will follow, so T'lass ensures Akiros pays attention." the woodborn says, enunciating perhaps more precisely than normal, elven curved blade held for effect.
As Abaos retrieves his earplugs, Ozzy says I want to try something...
Once they're in, she attempts the spell she used to torment Auchs when the group was laying siege to the fortress what feels like months ago, though she realizes it has only been a few days.
Can you hear me? She whispers to Abaos, so quietly that he would be hard-pressed to hear even if his ears weren't blocked. Before he can respond, she screws her own plugs into place, then awaits his reaction.
Making it's way back to the the inhabited oak, the party sees that the satyrs have drug their table, and their meal with it, into the open clearing outside the tree. Presumably, they were put somewhat on their guard by the apprehension of Mr. Winky - or perhaps the AP didn't provide a battle grid (if it comes to that!) for the innards of the tree, and the GM lacked the inclination to create one.
The satyrs, by merit of their super-senses and by merit of Auchs's size, see the party when they're some sixty feet away. One of them waves and calls out, "hello there! There's no need to be shy, come on over."
When Jen gets within sixty feet of the assorted dinner-eaters, her divination starts detecting things. On the first round, it detects the presence of thoughts. On the second round, she gets a feel for the mental acuity of the people gathered around the table. INT scores are, from highest to lowest: 16, 12, 10, 10, and a number of creatures of 1-2 intelligence; squirrels, birds, mice, and a puma. On the third round, she can start targeting people to read their surface thoughts.
Ozzy stays to the back, trying to keep out of sight, but also not trying to look like she's hiding, knowing that she is unlikely to be able to hide from creatures that could spot Mr. Winky.
She sees nothing under the table.
Guthruc paces beyond the trees, waiting for Ozzy's signal in case fighting breaks out.
Jen decides that any negotiation can be done after intel is gathered, so, jabbing her finger at herself, she casts a protection from evil. Her ears are unplugged as she approaches the group of satyrs.
"Hello," Jen says. She keeps her mental channels open and tries to discern the lead satyr's thoughts.
Already multi-tasking with her simultaneous conversation and telepathy, Jen simply doesn't have the mental resources to expend on looking at her surroundings.
Iorskan sat perched in a tree. Ear plugs in, he did his best to be stealthy.
But how stealthy could a golden dragonling the size of a full grown man he? He sat there, ready to pounce, if fighting broke out. He hoped to see it, because hearing was probably out of the question.