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With Wolfram's suggestion that the group make camp inside the creepy evil prison for a dead god dismissed without debate, they enjoy a cup of joe and set forth into the swamp. The plan to go around having gone horribly awry, each man and woman finds the waist - or neck - deep water a cold, terrifying, necessity to get wherever it is they are going. Here the group looks to MWG, the guide, for direction. The hours pass quietly, each person entrapped in the horrors of their own mind.
On the eve of dusk, with hope long gone, and the likelihood of passing the night mired in the muck, one of the hirelings spots an improbable stretch of dry land, upon which is constructed a minor fortress, by local standards. A thatch building lies safely in the center of a circle of sharpened poplar staves wreathed in thistle and razor vine.
Approaching, Wolfram calls out, and is greeted by a dart from a blowgun. When he comes to in the morning, Karl fills him in. The family inside - the Wettengels - is wary of trespassers and instinctively aggressive, but the rotund squire wooed them with his salt-of-the-earth honesty, and the entire group was received and fed and offered shelter for the night. Aside from the drug-induced headache and a touch of dehydration, Wolfram is no worse for wear, and happily inhales the breakfast of scuttlefish and cabbage soup.
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Aside from Wolfram's drug-induced sleep, meeting the Wettengels is a small bit of luck for the Saltmarsh group. Once they here where you are headed they shake their heads and inform you that you have been walking in the wrong direction, and are almost 10 miles south of where you want to go.
"It's easy if you are not from here to get lost in our swamp. No straight paths, and the sun can play tricks with you."
They know the territory of the tribe who call themselves the Makers, and have heard rumors that they occupy a large structure build centuries ago that's a day's trek west of here.
"It's a dark, ugly place" says the Wettengels husband. "My brother and I dared each other to explore it when we were kids, back before the lizards took it over. I'm not ashamed to say that we both turned tail and ran after just getting our first glimpse of those spiky towers."
You thank the family for their hospitality and directions by spending a few hours the next morning helping to rethatch their roof and replace several boards in the wall of their barn. With so many hands, the work is actually quite pleasant and easy, although you do break a sweat as the sun begins to climb into the sky.
Before you leave, the wife takes you to a nearby spring and tells you to fill up your waterskins.
"Out from here ye won't find any water that's fit for drinkin', not in the direction you're going. Best fill up here."
You thank the family for all their help and head out, knowing you'll have to spend most of the day waist-deep in water and fighting off insects.
With the Wettengels properly wished-well, the party sets off once more, brimming with confidence and breakfast. The island is barely out of sight, however, when they are clearly getting lost again.
Wolfram guides the group through the swamps, fairly certain that you are following the directions provided by the Wettengels and the other lizardfolk tribe.
As night approaches the ground around you becomes a bit drier and easier to move across. You enter a clearing and see what looks to be a large, moss- and vine-covered boulder ahead of you. Upon second look, you see that it is not a boulder, but some kind of giant sculpture, easily twelve feet in height. From your vantage point across the clearing you can't tell what it is a sculpture of, however.
"We should be cautious. If this is a religious totem of some kind, it may be guarded. Let me approach it quietly on my own, to check it out."
Moves with Grace disappears into the underbrush as she sidles up near the boulder to get a better look. At first glance, it appears to be an enormous sculpture of a head of some sort, but not that of a human. At she notes several reptilian features, but it's hard to tell without getting closer and removing some of the vegetation that obscures it.
"Very good, Moves," Wolfram calls out while the ranger goes to investigate the statue. The old cleric's knees are killing him, and he happily sits down in the dry clearing. A moment later he's flat on his back, snoring softly.
Katherine looks around and shrugs. Everything seemed so different... foreign. She silently wished that Allysen were here. Allysen had been her anchor, reminding her that she wasn't alone. But now she was alone, even among her companions. She was the odd one out, the alien. She was more than two centuries out of date, and everyone that she knew and loved was gone.
One of the men-at-arms comes up from the back of the line and sees Wolfram lying down.
"Should I tell the others that we're making camp here?" he whispers quietly to the leaders of the group.
It's hard to tell whether he is whispering because he doesn't want to wake Father Argyle, or he is nervous about being heard by something more threatening.
MWG winces as Wolfram calls out, possibly giving up her advantage of sneaking toward the statue. Once she sees it, not wanting to possibly desecrate an idol, MWG just goes back to the group. "It appears to be a statue of some kind of reptillian humanoid, but I didn't find anyone living nearby."