There is a gradual drying of the grasslands, as the lush pastoral land meets the arid, warming winds of Bangkorai in the far distance; this gives Stormhaven its unpredictable weather. The march to hunt dreugh was not without its interruptions, but these were mainly to honor Kyne's majesty; we watched magnificent thunderstorms form and wane, thunder arc over far fortifications, and the grass turn to heather. Darkness was falling when we chanced upon a small hamlet behind a copse of rowan trees that hadn't appeared on our maps. The dogs (and the Argonian) smelled trouble moments before our eyes and ears confirmed it.