Rooms

  Passing from the main path north, the boughs grow denser and the canopy

becomes heavier, smothering the light from above until an oppressive gloom

begins to settle over the ill-maintained path through the forest.  The caws

of crows and screams of hawks and their prey supplant the songs of jays that

are more common in the Arkanian southlands.  Gnarled roots burst from the

packed earth at uneven intervals, threatening to trip the unwary along the

meandering trail.  Glowing eyes seem to glint in the deepening shade, but

nothing is ever there when your eyes settle upon them.