You walk through the door of the Satyr, where a large looming goat man statue leers down at you. His face looked jolly but his rippled physique showed that he was a warrior as well. Stepping through the doors you arrive to a massive chamber, where standing there is a satyr himself. Unlike the statue he did not look particularly amused, but he certainly looked like an imposing foe. No words were said as he got into a strange stance, which you emulated. The the ground beneath you shifted into one that was more rocky and mountainous, difficult for you to maneuver but you saw your opponent easily running and leaping towards you. The satyr was just about to kick you in the face when you woke up.

It was early morning. You couldn't even see the sun on the horizon, but the moon was low. A good sign that perhaps in a few hours day would come. The campfire had long since died down. Pylia was quietly sleeping in her bedroll next to you, and Buddy looks like he never moved from his spot from last night. It was hard to tell if what you dreamed of last night with him was even real. However you notice someone was missing. Looking near the entrance of your tent, Shortfang's barrow was empty, his camouflage tarp tossed aside. Perhaps he had already awakened, though most of the camp was still asleep. You could only see one other figure awake, one of the guardsmen warming himself by a bronze brazier. It was a crisp morning.