Aria withdrew two of the werejaguars' cloaks, and took two minutes to identify them with the monocle - as even magic items with a readily guessed function generally had some command word or mentalization to activate - before handing them to the humans, along with a pair of her daggers.<br/><br/>After leaving the humans to fly out of the cavern and under the open sky once more, she found it easy enough to follow the slain village woman's directions - flying back south along the cliff face to the waterfall where they'd first come to the cliff, then following the stream from the base of the waterfall until it spilled into an expansive lake.<br/><br/>Mosquitoes buzzed thickly at the shores, where broad-leafed trees overhung the edges of the water. Algae and scum floated upon the surface, but it seemed clearer beneath.<br/><br/>Just west of the lake's center, a tiny island dared to breach the surface, consisting only of three banyan trees whose branches overhung each other and the water's edge all around. In the shady triangle between the trunks stood what struck Aria as an out-of-place: a rectangular, finely carved table topped with a soft violet tablecloth, fine silverware, and glass or crystal goblets and plates. One might've expected such a setup amongst elven nobility or the wealthiest house of Waterdeep, not in the Maztican jungle.<br/><br/>And it was three pale-skinned elves who sat along one side of the table: the central one bore pale blue skin, white hair, black breeches, and a silk shirt of intricately interwoven azure, green, and and white. Sitting at his either arm were two elves of pale golden complexion, one each visibly male and female, for they were naked to the waist. They sipped a honey-colored wine and laughed politely as the sky-skinned elf regaled self-importantly with some tale or other, making theatrical gesticulations in between hearty mouth-bursting bites of green grapes.