With Rhemyr in the lead and doing his best to stay within sight of his companions, the way forward is slow going as he creeps along the forest path into the gloom. Where it was dead silent at first, there are now occasional hoots and screeches that resound and echo through the dense, dismal wood. A tendril of thick, fibrous ivy wraps itself around Rhenmyr's feet and almost trips him, but nothing else of note happens. After what feels like it must be at least 2 or 3 hours of walking (though it's impossible to tell for sure; the light hasn't changed, and your limbs don't feel any fatigue) you emerge from the dense woods and find yourselves looking across a strange landscape. Rolling hills stretch in front of you for what must be at least a dozen miles, under a sky of constantly shifting purples and greens of coruscating color. To the left, the edge of the forest appears to run to the horizon. To the right, the track you've been following splits off and flanks the edge of the woods for some distance, where it stretches for several miles in a crescent arc. Above the woods there is an unsettling mass of black and purple clouds hanging in the sky. Occasional flashes of lightning criss-cross the sky and low, peals of thunder roll over the barren moors.
Ahead, the path continues into the barrens, rounding several low heath-covered fells. Beyond the fells, you notice a thin plume of white smoke rising from behind the line of a hill. It takes a couple of minutes to summit and survey your surroundings, but from the crest, you see a narrow, shallow valley below you, bisected by a small brook. Down at the bottom of the valley the source of the plume of smoke is a small stone cottage with an earthen roof. From here it's difficult to make out the details, but you do see a low stone wall attached to the back of the cottage and small dark shapes milling about on all fours; apparently livestock of some sort. There doesn't appear to be any other signs of habitation.