Amidst the jagged canyons of the treacherous Scouring Crags, the party embarked on a perilous mission to gain the upper hand. Their strategy was to lay deadly traps, cleverly concealed amongst the rocky terrain, a formidable obstacle for the Nibenese soldiers closing in on them. However, their initial efforts, though well-intentioned, were far from flawless.

Safi, with her keen eye for detail, spotted the flaws in the first set of traps. Recognizing the stakes of this critical endeavor, the group swiftly rallied. With nimble fingers and unwavering determination, they rectified their mistakes, ensuring that their concealed contraptions would effectively ensnare any unsuspecting foes.

Their diligence paid off, as they successfully deployed a network of traps throughout the canyons. These ingenious devices became a potent asset, leading to the elimination of some of the relentless Nibenese soldiers. This, in turn, freed up a contingent of Altar Skulkers archers, who were eager to lend their deadly precision to the upcoming battle. As the sun cast long shadows across the rocky landscape, the stage was set for a dramatic confrontation, with the party's cunning traps serving as a testament to their determination and tactical brilliance.

As the battle raged on within the confines of the unforgiving canyon, Safi, his heart heavy with the burden of his druidic calling, sought to turn the tide in their favor. Clutching the ring he had traded for from Morhen, he was determined to employ its arcane power to summon a protective wall of force. His intention was clear – to ensnare the malevolent Nibenese Templar and her relentless soldiers, to stymie their advance, and to carve out a sanctuary amidst the chaos.

In the very essence of Safi's being resided a profound connection with nature, an unbreakable bond that transcended the mundane. He had devoted his life to safeguarding the delicate balance of the natural world, nurturing its vitality and defending it from all threats. The scourge of defiling magic, a sinister force that greedily drained the life force from the earth itself, was anathema to his very existence.

However, as Safi invoked the power of the ring in his hands, a chilling realization gripped him. The crags, steeped in defilement and malevolence, bore witness to an aberration – a twisted perversion of his own intentions. Instead of the protective barrier he had envisioned, the defiling magic responded with a grotesque and amplified version of his spell, creating a forceful manifestation that wreaked havoc upon the land he cherished.

In that agonizing moment, Safi's heart ached with anguish, torn between the desperation of battle and the agonizing betrayal of his own principles. He watched in helpless horror as the very magic he abhorred surged forth, its malevolence unchecked, draining the vitality from the earth he had vowed to protect. It was a bitter reminder of the sacrifices they all had to make in their relentless struggle for survival. In Safi's eyes, the scars of that moment ran deep, etching a painful testament to the sacrifices and compromises that came with the harsh reality of the Scouring Crags.

With a heavy heart and a sense of profound betrayal, Safi realized that he could not allow the twisted magic to persist. The very essence of his being rebelled against the malevolent force that had sprung forth, desecrating the sacred land he held dear. His fingers trembled as he swiftly removed the cursed ring, its arcane power still coursing through it, and tossed it aside with a vehement gesture.

The ring, now disconnected from his intent, clattered against the rocky ground, and the magic it had channeled began to wane. The relentless force of the amplified spell gradually dissipated, leaving behind a sense of eerie stillness in its wake. It was as if the land itself, once tainted by defiling magic, let out a sigh of relief as the oppressive weight lifted.

Safi's inner turmoil remained, a haunting reminder of the sacrifices he had been forced to make in the name of survival. He gazed at the discarded ring, its once-enticing power now repugnant in his eyes, and made a silent vow to never again tread the path of defilement. The pain of betrayal, both by the magic itself and by the circumstances that had led him to this dire moment, lingered like a bitter taste in his soul. In the unforgiving crucible of the Scouring Crags, Safi had been forced to confront the stark reality that the choices he made could come at a cost too high to bear.

After the Dragon had departed Yuemenka spoke to the party, “You desired information on the Dragon’s levy. Well then, I will tell you this. The Dragon claims the levy every year, from every City-State. Not to offer is to incur its wrath – it will come to the city and will take what it has demanded of its own, leaving destruction in its wake. “Only one City-State has ever avoided the levy: Urik. Hamanu had a means to placate the Dragon. He only did this once, so the price must be high, but it is your only hope.”

After sharing with them all she knew she finishes, “Whatever deal was made by Tyr with Balic, Tithian seems to be making a deal regarding the levy. If Tithian desires his rule to be accepted, he needs to pay dearly. Taking part of the levy would be a good way to cur favor. If more city states accept this deal, Tyr will suffer.”

Yuemenka slipped off her skeletal mask. Underneath was a remarkably young looking woman. She held it out. “Please, take this. If, in your travels, you will ever come to Gulg, present this at the gate. Tell them Yuemenka yet lives, and has ever been a loyal servant. I will await the Oba’s final judgment. Whether she seeks to accept me, or punish me, I am sure you will be rewarded.”