to the sound of Cynfred still celebrating his prodigious flight across the river, the party somewhat moistly and wearily gear up. at this point, a couple of newtlings could probably lay waste to the party, but fortunately this side of the river seems so far devoid of fauna. it has more of the warped bulbous type of flora from the other side, but they are sparser and you can see where some of them have been cropped back, harvested, or just plain consumed where they stood. the party eventually gets all the lights on and you begin to look around. directly in front of you there is a wall, strewn with a weird kind of moss which writhes and twists all by itself. the wall curves away in both directions to wide passages into darkness. and... time in.