The Shadows of Falcon's Hollow
Caleb finds his bolts intact, as though they didn't collide with anything, lying out in the street. After quickly ransacking the area for kindling and oil, what little there is of it, the group heads out into the woods. Northwest. They feel something tugging them in that direction, a simple...pull. Like water flowing downward, or a compass spinning to north. Gentle, but there. It feels good to follow it.
Even without that tug, though, they'd have been able to follow the trail. Dozens of people walked this way, taking slightly different paths, but all trending the same direction. They weren't paying any attention, it seems - there are footprints and scraps of cloth, broken branches, even one spot where it looks like something blundered straight through a huge thornbush on the way. Like what was pulling it out into the forest was stronger than any aversion to pain.
The shadows are so thick beneath the trees. You try to stay out in the light, but it is hard, and the darkness is so thick.
Finally, at around noon, you approach a hill, and see all the tracks, of humans and animals, converging onto it. It's a large hill, tall and steep, covered in grass with occasional trees dotting it. At the top is a stone statue of a man in armor, the details of which can't be made out from the base of the hill. Around the side of the hill, to the east, is a cavern entrance, leading deep enough to go out of sight.
It looks exactly, exactly, like the cavern mouth that many of you saw in the night.