Nathanael finds his trek across the reddish plain largely uneventful. On the horizon, he sees vast numbers of fiends marching about to the south an leathery-winged flyers above them.
The sweltering heat makes the journey uncomfortable, more so because the small portion of water the wizard has brought with him is steadily dwindling.
Great blocks of black basalt lie scattered about, and fireballs explode at random intervals, shedding light and heat across the land. None of the missiles get close enough to threaten the the young man directly, but a wave of heat ripples his clothing every time one bursts nearby. Even when the fireballs explode far away, their thunder rolls across the plains like a stampeding herd.
After several miles of travel Nathanael reaches a river. Closer inspection of the red, sluggish stream reveals that it's a river of blood coursing across the plain!
Images of tormented faces spring up on the foam caught in the eddies of the river, to be dashed to bits on the rocks. Each such "face" seems to let out a faint scream when the current forces it against the crags, thought that might be simply the splashing of the fluid on the basalt. A muted howling comes from much farther upstream, from the spring in the mountains.
As the horrifying river stretches in front of the mountains where the witches hut is supposed to be, Nathanael has to choose to either cross it or find a way around it.
