What a party!

Arriving at the satyr camp, 3 more were there, all engaged in drinking and competition. Feeling welcome, the party, except Leenia, quickly dove into the drink and games. Some of strength, some of accuracy, and some of chance.

When dinner was served, everyone enjoyed a hearty meal and after more drinking and competition, the party fell into a deep, almost drug induced, sleep.

Waking the next morning, they found the satyr's throats had been slit and a band of elves surrounding them. Ekeraath's hands had been bound.

Quickly opening a dialog, the party was informed the satyr's would soon have slit their throats and taken everything they had. Had there not been 2 elves in the party, they would all be dead now.

The head elf provided the following information:
When it was obvious we would not be able to defeat the Darkness, we retreated to the comfort of our ancestral home, this forest.
Shortly afterward, a large tribe of Dragonborn also sought to retreat here. Understanding their needs, we allowed them a large swath of forest, some distance from here. For almost 1000 years, we have lived in peace with them. Even when they cut down large sections of forest to farm on, we understood their needs despite our distaste for it.

Recently, things have changed. Game has become scarce and several of our patrols have been found dead, with what appear to be dragonborn inflicted damage. They claim the same, missing patrols, elven damage, etc. Our relationship with them has deteriorated to the point armed conflict is almost inevitable.

As we wrapped up, the party was being transported to the Elven King.