Vitha nods her head in response to Vandeyr and Tor. She shrugs and responds to Tor's question in draconic to Vandeyr. "Heading straight across may save time, or may get us killed. To take the path to [home] as the heron flies, crosses the territory of the great black Chardansearavitriol." She said, one hand caressing the black scale that you can now see hanging from her belt.

"If he sleeps, we may pass with no issue. If he wakes, he will kill and eat us." She says with a shrug.

In common, she answers Tor, "Path southwest save time, but most danger."

Rawlings looks at the guide warily.  At least they were told the direction in case this one sends them in the wrong one.  As Tor mentions cutting across, she replies, "Whichever keeps us the driest.  The prisoners look like they are doing alright since Brother Siegfried healed them, no need to hurry that much."

(sorry!  crossposted)

Rawlings nods to Vitha, a bit more appreciation for her and turns to Tor, "See?"

Vandeyr goes a bit wide around the eyes. "I'm sure we're best off avoiding the dragon. Go 'round. We're not in a rush." 

"Ain't that the truth, we're definitely not in a rush to bump into any dragons," agrees Tor. "West it is then." He gestures in that direction with open hand, looking at Vitha.

"Lead the way."

(Great dragon name btw.)

(I wish I could take credit, but that's his official name)

Vitha rises with an easy grace. As with the other lizardfolk, she moves with precise, sudden movements. One might call them jerky if they weren't so purposeful. She turns her head this was and that to see the party with both eyes.

Finally, she tilts her head to look up at the sky and tastes the air with her tongue. In her sibilant draconic she tells Vandeyr, "The weather will break soon, but it will not be DRY, as your asked, for two moons at least, probably three. Another storm will come by nightfall. The Storm Lord must be irritable. You will be uncomfortable in that," she says with a wave of a clawed hand at your party. It's unclear if she means your armor, your clothes, or all of the above. "Still, probably safer for your fragile skin to keep it on."

In common, she says to the rest, "Follow. Storm Again by Night."

Brother Siegfried makes note of a great black dragon lairing so close to Leilon.  A problem for another day, if at all.

(If there's anything you'd like to do before you leave, go ahead and post it)

The day passes uneventfully. The rain comes and goes throughout the day. The chill-but-not-quite-cold rain of an early spring day. The sun is never seen, just a vague lightening of the grey sky. In the few times when Vitha leads you through an open sky, a darkening to the west promises another storm before nightfall.

Vitha leads you smoothly through the Mere, mostly silent but occasionally points out signs of a passing crocodile or warns of a giant leech hiding in the water behind a rock, and once droppings of a hydra, though she notes they're a few days old.

At midday, you pause on a wide flat stone sticking up out of the water. Vitha spears a fish casually as she approaches. She holds the still wriggling fish out to the party. "Fish?" She offers

Vitha constantly pointing out potential dangers was useful, but did not make Tor feel any better about their mission. The Mere was best left well alone and, although he had trekked through places like this before, it was always reluctantly. Perhaps it was all the water. He needed solid ground beneath his feet, which were already feeling damp despite the quality make of his boots. Always invest in good boots.

"Fish sounds good," answers Tor. "If we can find any wood dry enough to start a fire."

He will scout about the immediate area searching for appropriate firewood.

Survival: 17

Quote from EMIW >>

Vitha constantly pointing out potential dangers was useful, but did not make Tor feel any better about their mission. The Mere was best left well alone and, although he had trekked through places like this before, it was always reluctantly. Perhaps it was all the water. He needed solid ground beneath his feet, which were already feeling damp despite the quality make of his boots. Always invest in good boots.

"Fish sounds good," answers Tor. "If we can find any wood dry enough to start a fire."

He will scout about the immediate area searching for appropriate firewood.

Survival: 6

 Vitha seemed confused at first then nodded, "Ah, forgot need food burnt. No dry wood near without magic."

She spears a couple more fish, clubbing the head of each on the rock, before squatting down and slicing all but one open with her razor sharp sickle. She carefully removes the head, bones, and guts of the fish, which she tosses back the water, but on the opposite side of the rock from where the party rests. There's immediately bubbling in the water as a minor frenzy of fish come too eat the offal. "Razor fish." She comments offhandedly.

She takes the fish filets and offers them to party. "Remove danger. Safe, like for hatchlings before grow adult teeth."

The final fish she simply bites the head off and swallows.

Rawlings watches with interest as the lizardfolk spears her fish and does everything with such efficiency.  Her feelings towards this woman has greatly improved and is glad she has accompanied them in this wretched place.  She wonders how they live in the swamp like they do, but figures they are much more suited towards it.

As she offers the fish to the party, Rawlings takes one of the filets, nods to Vitha, and eats it raw.  An interesting taste, but filling all the same.

Tor sighs. Raw fish it would have to be. 

After taking a few bites he admits "I've had worse."

He's eaten food at both ends of the spectrum, and definitely prefers something in the middle ground.

"I remember the time our supply line was disrupted for a full month. By the time our rations reached us they were full of beetle grubs. It had been so long that the grubs were fresher than the rations, so..." he pops a bit more fish into his mouth and speaks around it. "Down they went. Speaking of rations," he adds, reaching into his pack. "I'm not just going to eat raw fish the whole time we're here. Anyone for hardtack? Jerky? Dried fruit?"

In a few quick bites, Vitha finished her fish. She pulled a gourd from the pouch hanging from her belt, pulled a cork from the top and drank.

After a moment, she spoke to Vandeyr in draconic, "If we leave now, we will arrive at [home] after dark and in the midst of another storm. It may hide our approach, but it will also hide any rot trolls, and they seem to be able to smell prey--even over their own stench. About three hands' drop of sun [hours] south," she points with a clawed hand, "there is a strand of willows, large enough to shelter until morning, it lies within sight of [human] tower. At least, it is within sight when there is no storm."

Vandeyr nods. "Shelter first. To the willow trees. Can we see the tower from those trees? If not, that's fine. I'd like to know what the tower looks like. Can you draw the walls and such to describe it to us?" 

Vitha shrugs, "If the storm is not too bad, you can see the tower. It is black and gold stone, broken at the top so the wind howls through it and cries mournfully through it. Its only a few paces across on each side, and maybe 100 paces tall, but inside...," She trails off seeming at a loss how to describe it. "As a young hunter, it was a challenge of bravery to see how long you could stay inside... Inside it was bigger than it should have been, and... warped. Our elders scared us with stories of hatchlings traveling inside and being lost forever... After being inside myself-- I believe them."

(Assuming everyone is ready to move on? If not, we can retcon)

The remainder of the day is much less comfortable: the sky grows darker, the rain harsher, the swamp deeper, and the vegetation thicker. A moment's inattention leads to a face full of thorns or a drop into waist deep water. And the path that Vitha takes is clearly the easiest. In passing, she notes, almost apologetically, "Boat would be better. But all boats cut to make sleds."

After what seems like days, but couldn't have been more than a couple hours, Vitha leads you into a small clearing, surrounded on all sides by massive willow trees. It's less than 10 feet across, but after the claustrophobic swamp you've just been traveling through, it feels like a mile across. While it's more open, that also means the rain is falling harder here. There's room under the willow trees to build a make-shift shelter to keep the worst of the rain off. You could also build a fire if you had any dry wood.

Vitha gestures for Vandeyr to follow her and leads to the southern edge of the willows, pulls aside the hanging branches and points. In draconic she says, "There is the tower. Though I doubt you can--" before she can finish there is a fork of lightning arching across the skies above, illuminating the swamp. From the shelter of the willows, you can see that the rest of the way forward seems to be open water, broken here and there by tall tufts of marsh grass and stones that speak of sunken ruins. To the east, you can see the beginning of a mangrove forest. But dominating your attention, directly south a black tower stuck straight up towards the sky like a broken bone or claw reaching up. The afterimage from the lightning seems burned into your sight.

For Vandeyr:

Vandeyr stares out into the night where the tower had appeared for that instant of lightning. The rain falls, and he continues staring. It takes him a full minute before he turns back to the clearing and begins trying to find fallen branches and such to dry out with his magic before setting it alight. 

"You've given me much to think on, Vitha. Tell me everything you can about the tower. Who may have built it, who's lived there, any guesses about its purpose. I need to know." 

Rawlings welcomes the semi-shelter from the rain.  She has never been so wet in her entire life.  Feels more wet than if she had gone swimming... this is to the bone!  In a more sour mood than normal, she watches Vitha and Vandeyr head off to chat about something.  She almost doesn't even want to rest, just wants to get where they are going and be done with it.  Wouldn't the tower be a dry spot?  She looks to the others to see if they have seem to have the same outlook.

Quote from nschrock >>

Vandeyr stares out into the night where the tower had appeared for that instant of lightning. The rain falls, and he continues staring. It takes him a full minute before he turns back to the clearing and begins trying to find fallen branches and such to dry out with his magic before setting it alight. 

"You've given me much to think on, Vitha. Tell me everything you can about the tower. Who may have built it, who's lived there, any guesses about its purpose. I need to know." 

 Vitha shrugs. "Elders know more, but all kin [lizardfolk] know the tale of what you call the Mere of Dead Men and we call [the Marsh]. A [human] tribe lived here long, long ago. They went to war, as [humans] always do. One of their powerful shamans, seemingly sick of the fighting, caused the oceans to rise and drown both the [human] tribe and their enemies. The remains of the tribe's buildings are all around. The tower was their chieftain's hut. He was so proud, his hut still rises above the water."

You know enough history to recognize that she's telling a history of Uthtower (https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Uthtower).

***
Brother Siegfried sniffed at and sampled the raw fish.  On a sailing journey long ago, some far travelers had taught him how to slice and eat raw fish from the open sea.  He was long out of practice, but to his recollection it was something that could only be done safely with saltwater fish.  Trusting that the brackish Mere was ‘close enough’ he said a quick prayer to Chauntea and gobbled it down.

***
He spent the evening at the willows in prayer, contemplating the trial ahead and the deathly magic that consumed these foul trolls.  There is a darkness here… perhaps it is the destiny of the Swords to champion the power of life in these sick lands.