[NPC perspective] Meanwhile, Gill has his own mission…

Yes/No (Likely): Is Gill able to tail the satyrs undetected? | [5,5] Yes

He follows them until they reach their destination.

Gill takes one final glance at his departing allies – Lux, the all-powerful Sylvia, and that perverted little sprite – before turning his attention to his own task. Not that he’s all that happy about being on his own, but he can’t turn his back on what’s about to happen to those two women, especially when one of them is Rosabel.

Besides, having Lux nearby was…distracting. His mind wouldn’t stop wandering back to the dream he had about her and Willow the dryad. Even now, just thinking about it makes him – No! Not again!

Pushing those enticing images aside, he hefts the heavy club Juniper gave him and sets off to follow the ribald voices of the satyrs. This is going to be hard enough without him getting – well, inappropriately hard.

Speaking of dreams – his surroundings, these makeshift shacks, feel familiar in the eeriest way. He walked through this village – helped build it – as a thrall of Athisz, a prisoner in his own body. He knows it well, and yet in his conscious mind, he’s never been here. Unsettling.

But however he came by the knowledge, he’s able to slip from the cover of one hut to the next with ease, and the satyrs, none the wiser, continue onward. Heart pounding, Gill picks his way past burned-out fires and discarded baskets, things abandoned as Athisz’s army rushed to answer the call of battle. Finally, he sees his quarry reach a vacant shack near the edge of the settlement, where they usher their two captives inside.

Peering around the doorway, Gill gets a glimpse of a small living space with a couple of beds; just what the satyrs needed, no doubt. Although he can’t make out the quiet discussion taking place, the tone of it is clear. The satyrs, seducing, urging; the women, enthralled, eager to please.

Gill grits his teeth as he braces himself for what’s to come. He hasn’t exactly been in a lot of fights in his life, and the few brawls he’s had with drunks at the tavern hardly make him feel prepared for this. The satyrs’ muscular bodies glow bronze in the firelight, so obviously strong in contrast with the mere mortals they’ve easily enthralled. But Juniper’s club is also a thing of the fey realm, and with it in hand he feels strong too. And he has the element of surprise…