Devon was not obstructed in any way during his hauling, except for some pain in his shoulder while dragging the creatures.

Night came, and most of it passed by, when the sounds of the darkness beyond seemed to become abnormal. There were sounds, that Devon could not put his finger on. He could not see what it was, but he could hear it.

(got 150 exp)

The noises came from where the bodies had been dumped. The sound of sniffing, some crunching, only to be followed by the distinct sound of a body being dragged through the brush, away from him.

By the time the sun came up, devon was quite tired. He'd lost a fair bit of blood, but his wounds had started to grow crusts by now, thanks to his increased healing speed. He would have to visit the SRT medics to fully heal though.

As the sun came up, he could see two of the satyrs had been dragged off and a third had been eaten from. The last satyr he killed though, the one that had cast magic, was completely untouched beside the wounds he himself had inflicted. It would be relatively safe for Devon to return back to base now.

It was a gruesome sight, but with some difficulty Devon was able to undo the skin of the Satyr, roll it up and hang it under his backpack like a sleeping bag. After that, he started his long travel back to the outpost.

After some time of walking, he arrived. The moment he walked in, the dark elf was the first to take notice. "Oh shit, we thought you died out there. We've been calling you over the radio all night! They break your radio or something?"

(got common non-metal: satyr hide)

"Yeah you should have... Damn. Sit tight, and take off that kevlar." The dark elf went over to the corner of the room where a medkit hung from the wall. Grabbing it, the dark elf shoved over a chair to allow Devon to sit down at the table, where the dark elf unpacked the medkit. "You're a tough one, I'll give you that."

"Eh, sure..." The dark elf took out a potion from the pack, which he put down in front Devon. "Drink up. It will help. Now let me see those wounds."

Take out a syringe, the dark elf filled it up with an anti-infective, which without warning he injected into Devon's leg. After this, he started to mess with the wound on his chest and back, digging out some slight pieces of stone, cleaning them and suturing them where necessary before giving him a fresh wrap of bandaging. Assuming Devon drank the potion, all of this barely hurt at all.