Our plan to stop the singing almost works. Sure, we appear to be accomplices in the murder of a dryad, but you can't make an omelette without breaking any eggs. Besides, one of the Seela continues to sing.
Salvador leaps in to action! He dashes forwards and, not distracted by any nearby defenceless animals, casts colour spray on the stubborn Seela. It works! The Seela is stunned in to submission, the song stops, and, well, the whole forest is consumed by an almighty fireball, as our instigator transforms in to a black, tentacled creature and vanishes.
The Seela turn to ash, their remains crumbling to the ground. The trees turn to ash, crumbling to the ground. There are no signs or sounds of wildlife, the nymph we visited earlier is gone. Everything in the forest that was living, flora or fauna, is now ash. They're all dead, Dave. And it's all Salvador's fault.
This is really taking Salvador's instincts to murder innocent fluffy critters to a new level, taking out a few bystanders—and a whole forest, I suppose—with them, but at least he's consistent.
There's not much to do but move on, really. We head through the fire forest—well, it's neither on fire nor a forest any more, more of an ash plain—towards our destination. After a long while of relatively uneventful travelling we reach a shanty town on the edge of some expansive marshland.
There are refugees outside of the shanty town, and inside are traders selling boats for crossing the swamps at vastly increased prices. The locals are clearly exploiting the plight of the refugees fleeing the Ragesian army for their own gain.
'Hey, Salvador. After destroying an entire forest, how do you fancy creating another major ecological disaster and drying out the swamp? This time, it could actually be beneficial!'