You realize that you're detecting items, not active spell effects -- that said, the abjuration is a Cloak of Shade, the transmutation is a Longstrider.
"Hm? What?! Oh, yes, of course. Magical auras are SO much more interesting than carefully-cut knotholes anyway. Even if that was very good craftsmanship, being able to cut it and hide it like that."
Merlan merrily shuffles over towards the pile of rocks, maintaining his detection charm. Once there, he 'HM's' and 'AH's' as he peers at the rock pile with his faintly glowing eyes,...
”Interesting finds,” Costin says, detailing the items to the others as best he can.
"One at a time," says Eloen. "Let me check the stump first." She ambles to the stump, staying about three feet away and then hunkering down and moving in a small circle around it to look at the entire thing, with a special eye for cracks, unusual features, protrusions, or disturbances in the dirt at its base.
Eloen finds a pair of traps in the knothole -- a snare to hold the hand in place, and a blade trap that would strike the hand. She does, however, notice a very small gap between the discoloured bark square and the rest of the tree.
The ranger squints and then says, "Just a moment more. There's a trap here to cut your fingers off, but it looks like it might be accessible for maintenance here... ?"
She unrolls her small pack of probes and tools, and runs a small slightly curved probe down the discolored bark square, seeking a place where she can wedge it in. Testing the bark square, she tries putting pressure on the piece with her tool, looking for ways to shift it, pop it loose, bring it up a little, or get the tool in through the edges.
Eloen's tools press on some sort of release, and the panel of bark pops off- pushed out by a spring. The panel itself is a 4x4 square (though rounded due to the tree) of bark with a thin layer of wood inside, with two small metal hooks that helped keep it in place.
Inside the tree, about 3 inches in, is a large hollow roughly in the shape of a hemisphere -- with her low-light vision and the fading sun, Eloen estimates it's about 18" in diameter.
Within there are a number of strips of leather -- and, on the far side, a crank -- presumably to rearm the blade trap in the knot.
"All right, found the trap mechanism. Pretty technical. I'm going to try to disable it. I thought about doing so in a way that would let us reset it so that it doesn't appear tampered with, but if we're taking things out of the stump, then it'll be obvious that someone was here, right?"
"Anyone have a guidance spell or the like? Don't wanna accidentally get my hand cut off."
Sahar comes to peer at the stump, leaving the mystery of the rocks to the Costin and Merlan. Catching sight of the strips inside, she smiles at Eloen. "Well done!" She pats the talented elf on the shoulder after a brief prayer.
"Merlan, we will need those straps you made."
"I guess I can just take these leather strips and replace them with the others. Using the side panel means not worrying about the trap in the mouth of the stump anyway," says Eloen after a moment's rumination. She uses a pair of long-nosed pliers to reach in and carefully remove the leather strips from the inside, handing them up to Sahar as she takes out each one.
Sahar makes a small noise of satisfaction as she takes the first strip from Eloen and examines it, taking the others as they are offered. "Excellent. This was so much easier than blowing poor Fiona up, like we did at the first drop." She counts the strips and continues, "I do not know that our straps will mislead them at all, but at least we have these. Unless..." She hesitates. "Unless they expected us to retrieve these and have put false messages here to mislead us?"
Holding the straps as if they were desert vipers, she continues her rumination. "Surely not. We have spent only two nights in Rustknoll. They are operating distantly and using these drops as exchange points. Surely they could not have coordinated the effort needed for false messages in such a short time?"
Forgeries in place, Eloen carefully resets the panel, noting that if the thing were put in right-side up it would be almost invisible -- save for the very slight sheen of whatever is preserving the bark and wood.
Looking at the new strips through the lens reveals familiar blue text - in Aklo and Skald, like the first drop.
"Excellent," Sahar says as the strips proved to be inscribed as expected. "We should leave without disturbing anything else, so nobody knows we've been here. Let's get back to Rustknoll, get Raden back to his family, and then decipher these things."
She tucks the strips into her saddlebag and mounts up, ready to move out.
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Lysander uses his knowledge of tracks and survival to try and cover the tracks in the area. Sandy smiles at the others and gets to work with a few branches and sticks to try and make the area seem undisturbed.
Lysander covers the tracks, or at least thinks he does, and the lot of you set off, returning to Rustknoll. The return trip is uneventful -- and about three hours after your departure, you see a bit of light in the horizon -- and a pair of figures, one with a torch and the other a bow.
”Were we expecting a welcome party?” Costin says to his companions in a low voice.
"No, but good to see they are taking precautions....I hope nothing is wrong?" The young druids wonders uneventfully.
Sahar waves and spurs Sharisa to meet the figures, trying to see who it is.
"Are these your people looking for you?" she asks the boy.
Merlan, once alerted to Eloen's skills and success, claps his own short but nimble fingers together in a soft, silent clap of appreciation.
The wizard promptly produces the pre-prepared straps at Sahar's urging, and eagerly examines the newly-acquired ones with the others.
"Right. travel now, translate later. Come on Tiny!"
When they come upon the figures,. he squints and shades his eyes, trying to identify them himself.
The boy looks ahead, squinting, then shakes his head, "Don't think that's my da."
Sahar starts to ride slightly forward and as she does, believes that she recognizes one of the figures -- the willowy build of elven blood.
As you close, Daven calls out, "Any signs of a lost boy??"
"Ha! Found boy, you mean! We have Raden with us," she calls back.
"Keep hold of that claw, lad, and nobody will ever doubt your story," she says quietly to the boy as they ride up to the search party.
Daven turns and starts waving his torch back toward the buildings, before handing it to his partner to light an arrow that he fires up into the air.
By the time you get to Daven's position, you see the figures of another half-dozen other adults (or at least, nearly-adults) rushing forward to join his position, including a girl of roughly sixteen or seventeen winters who is calling "Raden! Raden!"
The boy whispers to Sahar, "That's my sister Torra. She doesn't like me. Wouldn't even let me lick the bowl when she made honeycakes. 'They're for Callan, not little worms!', she said."
"She might have figured out how much she loves you when you disappeared, Raden. Try the honeycake bowl again next time," Sahar suggests softly, before helping Raden swing down from the mare into Daven's grasp.
She steers Sharisa back into the group to allow the family some privacy to reunite. "Should we tell them what happened? Our word is not terribly valued by some in this town. Like as not, this will turn into us kidnapping the child," she says wryly.
"We tell them the truth...if they believe us or not is their problem. But honesty is best idea, be true to ourselves - you don't want to end up all twisty like." Lysander says softly, his words hold a note of honesty and clarity, that one might expect from the unnuanced wood-folk.
Raden calls out, "Torra! I'm here! They saved me from getting et!"
The girl grabs the boy and starts to go on about how he's in big trouble for running off and making up stories, until he holds up the claw and tooth, and she stops talking -- though her mouth is still moving.
"They saved me from getting et by a pair of landsharks, look! And I din't run off. I fell asleep and woke up far away."
Her composure returns and she says, "We'll see if Father believes that ridiculous story...."[/i], then looks up at you and says, timidly, "I suppose I should thank you... he might be a pain, but he's my brother. So, thanks." She pauses, then adds, [b]"Mother and Father just thought you being here was going to make things worse, but maybe they were wrong."
Sahar pauses for a moment, then sighs and, with a rueful glance at Sandy, addresses Raden's sister. "They were not really wrong, Torra. Raden did not run off. He was ensorcelled and kidnapped by an evil fey, who put him in the area where landsharks run, in order to bait us there to save him. We did, but only because Raden was very smart and obeyed every direction we gave him to get him away from the landsharks and to safety."
"He was very smart and very brave. After the creatures were dead, his first thought was to worry about his goats. He rode my horse and came with us into what might have been more danger without any complaint. I would be happy to have a little brother like yours. He earned that claw!" She smiles at Raden.
The girl's eyes narrow, then she says, "I still think the little pain ran off, but I'll tell Father your feytale."
Raden looks at you with the least subtle "I-told-you-so" expression you've ever seen, and a shrug, before following his sister home. The excitement over, the group breaks up with most heading back to their farms - though two seem to be heading to Taran's for a bite - or a drink - first.
Daven smiles, then says, "Well, here's hoping the rest of my patrol's less exciting." before heading off.
Costin smiles at the exchange, but keeps a wary eye on the villagers.
Sandy stays close to the horses as they talk to the townsfolk, glad of Sahar's honest and kind words. With a warm smile, he waves to Raden and his sister.
"Aye it sounds good, stable the horses and ourselves for the night. Riding in the dark does no one any good." Sandy agrees softly; "At first light we can get back on the road?"
Merlan's cheery words of the adventure are drowned in the ensuing chaos that is a (supposedly) happy reunion of family.
The mini mage waves at the departing rescue party cheerfully.
Turning back to his companions, he agrees with the brief rest and early start. A mage without his most powerful spells is at a serious disadvantage when dealing with deranged, trickster Fey. And seriously cranky 'town'sfolk.
"Yes. We did a good deed, let's get a little rest and head out tomorrow when we're ready."
You head into the tavern, and Taran looks up from the bar at you. She greets you with a nod, then says in a softer tone than you'd expect, "You missed your free dinner, I've already given it to people out looking for the lost boy. Can grill something up if you're hungry and have the coin."
Sandy smiles; "Very kind hearted of you. Fortunately, the lad has been found - he's back with his sister and family. Some food would be appreciated."
He taps his hip where his money purse makes a soft clinking sound. "Things been well other than that?"
Taran says, "There's maybe enough stew left in the pot that I could water it into soup for two or three of you. But, I've three nice coneys that are a good roasting size -- and about half an Aurochs if you just wanted some grilled meat -- can throw in some onions either way -- and we've got some fiddleheads and asparagus that's fresh. Wouldn't want the carrots or potatoes outside a stew until we start getting new ones."
She shrugs, "Well enough, I suppose. Been a very busy day - with the orc patrols last night and now the search for the runaway."
A deep voice from the kitchen says, "And, a'course the village leader's about as helpful as always.."
Taran turns her head and hisses something in Dwarven back at the kitchen, then says, "Sorry about that. What'll it be? Probably need a drink or two while you wait."
"Indeed, it was well done of you to have fed the searchers, Taran. I will gladly pay for whatever meat is quickest and easiest to prepare - grilled auroch, I suspect - and the fresh vegetables. I am hungry enough to eat my horse, and she would not appreciate that," Sahar smiles at the hosteller and starts digging money from her belt pouch. "A pitcher for my friends, as well, please."
Taran nods, "I'll get some steak-cuts grilling. Can't imagine you want to wait for a roast -- even the coney's take a while -- and I can't very well have you eating your boot in my dining room. Ok, then, six -- let's make it seven, given your appetites -- and I'll throw in the first pitcher of ale, but after that, it's on you -- there's only so many pints in a gallon. So that'd be an even 35 silvers. 40 if you're already getting your second pitcher."
Poking through her coins, Sahar pulls out four gold pieces and offers them. "How about 4 gold for all of us instead of everyone piling up a bunch of silver and copper? And I think two pitchers will do. We will be leaving early tomorrow morning and want clear heads to do it," she adds conversationally.
"Should someone send word out to the patrols that the boy's been found and they can come back home? We wouldn't want them to be caught out in the dark running into orcs."
Taran says, "If you've delivered the boy, I'm sure they've already got runners handling it." She pauses, then shrugs, "Not that they'd be like to refuse more help if you wanted to join in, though I'm not thinking you'd get too far before the steaks are done."
"I have a horse. Cold meat is still dinner," says Eloen. "I'll go help. Also, since I can see more easily in the twilight, I should be able to move quickly without worrying about the encroaching darkness."