Looking over the orc remains before she departed, Cinder would find a few gold coins and a couple large red scales... possibly dragon scales from the shimmering of them. The rest of it was slavers gear... chains, ropes, gags, plugs, collars, bindings. Some of it looked like it might be pretty fun to play with if not for the fact that the orcs would have simply degraded, humiliated, and abused her, and there would have been absolutely no safeword.<br/><br/>While she was sunbathing a satyr happened by. While it was tempting to walk up and introduce himself, he thought better of it noticing the bow and arrows within hands reach. Her scent was intoxicating, he was sure she was receptive to just about any advance from anyone, but he caught the wafting scent of orcsblood from her and from further south. She was on edge, and it wouldn't do to spook her and end up pinned to a tree. One of the very few times in the satyr's life, reason for self preservation won out over the passion in his loins and the chance to rut with such a fine female. He did not simply leave though, he would climb a nearby tree and watch her, taking his sketchbook from his rucksack and with a charcoaled stick, begin sketching her form. At first, he simply drew her as she was on the rocks, to get her proportions correct and to have her etched in his book for posterity. With subsequent sketches, he would sketch her in various provocative poses and with various phalluses in hand. In one she would be nuzzling a massive chub, trying to awaken it with kisses, while in another, he drew the curvaceous half-elf trying to put the entirety of his own exaggerated girth into her ass, drawing her with a face of strained bliss and still others she was embraced in a lover's arms or trying her best to take on the entire city watch. He was inspired to put down many, many charcoal drawings into his precious notebook, until finally she awoke and went on her way. He followed her from quite a distance, always making sure to hide if she looked back towards him. She smelled of a killer, and he wanted to make sure that if and when he decided to reveal himself, he wouldn't be killed for it.<br/><br/>As Cinder approached the stone rings, the trees opened into a clearing with a massive hill in the center. Judging the distance, the hill seemed to be squared off and about three hundred paces to a side. Thick gnarly brambles covered the hill sides on the east, west and south facings. The north facing was a crumbling eroding mess of loose gravel and dirt, that would prove dangerous to climb up on foot. Cinder could spot game trails trough the brambles that proved to be the way up to the top of the hill, even if the sharp thorns caught at her clothing and scratched her skin.<br/><br/>Atop the hill, was the stone ring she had seen from the tree so far away. The stones were black like obsidian, but even obsidian reflected the sun with flat glass facings, these stones, seemed to absorb all the light around it. Most sites like these would have an arcane circle or dais used to perform profane rituals, usually involved in taking a virgin's womanhood and or repeatedly fucking her into bliss and sometimes, submission, as the sexual acts generated the mana needed to power magics involved. Here though, it was simply a grass clearing. It was odd. This should be the place, it matched Durnan's descriptions, but then again, he had heard it from someone else. Maybe they omitted something- ah... there it was... Cinder looked down on the north side of the hill. When she had circled the hill in her initial scouting, she didn't see the hidden bend and pathway. Looking down, she could see a desiccated foot of a man. Durnan had mentioned there was a cave-in. It was going to be a lot of work digging out the entrance, especially if this loose dirt filled in the holes she tried to dig out.