The group sets up a make-shift campsite north of the ruins, about 50' back into the jungle.
The trio of hunters set out to secure an evening supper, while the gnome gets to work setting up the dinner table and side dishes.
Once again, he is active with his magical sack, pulling out rinds of cheeses, loaves of bread, along with spices, which he uses to season the jungle tubers that he appears to be quite proficient in locating.
After a short period of time, a luxurious aroma permeates the campsite and most, un-aided by magic, mouths are watering.
It is at this time that the trio of hunters come back with a stag hanging upside down from a freshly hewn pole of wood. The deers coat is a slick green and is quickly trussed and stuck over a make-shift firepit.
As the game slowly roasts, the hunters start to converse about the events of the day.
"Aye -- didja see that scorrow?"
"Yeah -- I'll be seein' dat in me dreams tanight."
"Wicked creature, dose ones."
"Hope we're outta der lands by now... Wuldna wan' one o' dem to show up uncalled fer."
The gnome steps up,"Although, I must admit, I was not much help this afternoon, at least I didn't run with my tail between my legs into the marsh to get away from the scorpions."
He turns to the group,"I'm sorry I wasn't of any help during the fight, I was still somewhat in shock at the huge creatures. Plus, I burn very easily."
The rest of the night passes slowly, the hunters partake in a small keg of ale that the gnome produces from his sack and they while away the time staring at the stars and the shadow of the Titan's Teeth against the clear night sky.
Morning comes and a quick breakfast is made. Camp is broken -- Ganyon looks at you all and says,"Where do ya wanna start first?"
