The blackened sky rumbles as the rain begins to fall. Ahead looms the mouth of a cave, a gaping hole in the side of this lush mountain, obviously kept so from the thunderstorms which caress this range. Scents of herbs swirl dizzily around you, drawing you closer with the lure of warmth and a seat out of the rain. As you approach, soft sounds of lilting Celtic dulcitones sing into your ear and you realize this cave is inhabited. But the rain is growing colder, and you step inside carefully, surprised at the comfort it seems to embrace you with, and how the smells and sounds draw you inwards..

Enter the Main Laire