The next morning, after what is a fairly comfortable night's sleep given the fact the beds were so short, you emerge from the leprechauns' Hollow into the forest which is once again bathed in warm sunlight. Leprechauns gather to watch you depart, giggling, laughing and waving with well wishes and rude jokes which fade behind you into the morning air.
It does not take you long to spot tracks from Soryth's clawfooted fey minions, as they can be seen all over the area. The leprechauns hid you well, it seems.
The morning light brightens as you move toward Ragnar's camp. A lively melody played on wood pipes seems to guide you from afar. The smell of a campfire and roasting meat floats on the breeze. Pipe music and sounds of song continue, a chorus of raucous laughter interrupting it occasionally.
Your path follows the contour of a narrow rise beyond which lies a glen where several satyrs and wilden feast and play. Posts flank the path leading into the glen, their tops wrought with wooden faces comprised of carved oak leaves. You can see that all of the trees in this area are in fact oak trees.
From the edge of the glen, a satyr staggers forward, holding a flagon brimming with drink. "Newcomers!" he cheers, "Welcome!"
