The wind picks up with force, whipping rain about with it. It feels as if the wind is coming from the direction of Omu, pushing back against the party as they press forward. In the moments between gusts and howls, the party can hear creatures flitting about the canopy as if the jungle is pulsing with life. The day wears on, but the party advances, undeterred.
As the day crawls to a close, the jungle parts to reveal Omu, a dead city surrounded by cliffs. They have finally arrived. Perched along the cliffs rest hunched figures: gargoyles carved to scream for eternity. Welcome to Omu, adventurers.
The group discusses whether they should camp near the city or in one of the nearby buildings. Meanwhile, Malcolm scouted the area as a lion, searching for trouble. The nearby areas proved abandoned, so he rejoined the group, and they agreed to explore the guardhouse. They slipped past a defunct iron portcullis to discover the remains of campfires and a wall adorned with graffiti–in Common. The group rests with four walls guarding them for the first time in a long time.