Recovering from the exertions of the fight, the party spends that day in drowsy slumber, broken only by the occasional clack of stone, as Iamde goes about shaping his small statuette. The falling of the sun heralds their waking, and the beginning of their travel, once more in the direction of the stone cliffs. That night, the party felt perhaps the best of any since their first day out of the city, flush with a successful combat, and with the taste of fresh meat on their lips. The rest lay stored away in packs, waiting to be consumed.
They journeyed onwards, a second, and thence a third day, taking them to the foot of these great cliffs, the side of a fallen mountain, crumbled beneath the ages of time and the weight of the past. Littering the base of these mountains are great clefts, caves that go down into the darkness, where weaker stone has been driven out by water and time. From within emanates a strange and powerful scent, a musk that hangs over the fetid air at the base of the cliff face.
[spoiler]Add 3 days of food from the creatures (Which were a pair of Sand Hunters). Knock off 3 days of food and water from the extra journey (so food is flat, overall).[/spoiler]