"My main strength is my speed. But I am able to slow it down. I can be quite sneaky too which requires an element of slower walking. Also reduces the chance of alerting others of our presence and avoiding combat could make the whole journey faster." Lanu considers for a minute "I am not one to lead, but I am happy to be near the front of the group. If it comes to combat, my fists will be making contact"

Morgid's greasy fingers trace the map spread out on the rough wooden table. The firelight casts dancing shadows on his face, momentarily erasing the glint of avarice and replacing it with a flicker of grudging respect. Sosen's wise words seem to have struck a chord with the hobgoblin scout. He gives her a curt nod, the movement surprisingly devoid of his usual bravado. "Aye," he grunts, his voice thick with a strange mix of relief and grudging admiration. "We are lucky to have you both on this quest, Peregrine & Sosen. Makes a lot more sense to have two sets of eyes on this map, especially with the way the mists shift in these damned swamps. In my opinion, we would find the best advantage if I help one of you two navigate, combining your survival skills with my local knowledge. Sosen has the right of it," he concedes. "At a normal pace, we can probably manage about ten miles a day through the marsh."

He leans back, scratching his beard with a grimy fingernail. A hint of genuine concern flickers across his features as he responds to her questions, momentarily replacing the usual self-serving smirk. "That is the Sunken Boneyard. Nasty place, that. Boggy field littered with the bones of horizonback tortoises. Rumors say the whole area is cursed with evil spirits, though I wouldn't know anything about that, of course." He winks, a gesture that fails to hide the nervous tremor in his hand. He quickly averts his gaze, tracing a finger along another section of the map. "Further on," he continues, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "there's the Crumbling Tower. The ruins of an ancient watchtower from some forgotten empire, slowly being consumed by the swamp. Place is said to be haunted by all sorts of nasty creatures. Not much of a fighter myself," he adds hastily, his voice tinged with defensiveness, "always preferred to keep my skin intact by staying clear of anything too interesting."

"This IS Brokenveil Marsh.  Whenever I hear 'cursed', that usually means an entire viper's pit of vermin - or worse - has moved in an taken residence."  Sosen frowned at the map before looking up at her companions.

"Morgid is being optimistic as am I.  This IS marsh.  Consider it 'swampy terrain' at the best of times.  Chances are we will be wading in swampy water, muck and mire for nearly the entire trek.  And that means a very slow slog.  If you value your legs and feet, you best be prepared to have them soaked until they look like prunes.   AND, when ever we take a rest, checking for leeches will be part of our 'rest'.

REMINDER:  Do not run the long grass along your palm; it WILL cut you.

WARNING:  The marsh will take your lives if you are not very wary and cautious.

Also, do not eat the white speckled mushrooms...  "

The pacing goblin sighes again.  "I could go on and on but, the main thought is -- Brokenveil is not a picnic and it WILL find ways to try to kill us all.  And THAT is before we even get near this fort and attempt a rescue. "    She throws up her hands, "I just need you to understand this is NOT a simple task we have undertaken."

"This is the way I hope we can travel.   HOPE being the key word."  Sosen traces a groove with her nail along the projected travel.  "Between the mists, muck, and everything else in the marsh, we could get turned around in circles in no time.   I am HOPING that -- between the four of us, we can stay 'on track'."

Peregrine surveyed the map once more, looking over the trail Sosen had planned. He was no expert on the marshes and was glad to have Sosen, who was clearly more experienced as a guide.

"A solid plan," he nodded. "So long as we stay together and look out for each other that is. And I'm afraid I can be of little use during the day, though at night, if needed I can scout ahead for future dangers."

"So long as we stay together and look out for each other that is. And I'm afraid I can be of little use during the day, though at night, if needed I can scout ahead for future dangers."

"Never fear, Good Peregrine.  Once we move out and under some of those marsh canopies, it can go from sunny to near pitch black.  Your skills will be more than necessary day or night."

"This is acceptable. Though I do like my legs. They are a weapon in themselves so hopefully the swamp doesn't render them totally useless."

Morgid nods in agreement with Sosen's proposed route. A hint of relief washes over his face, replaced quickly by a calculating glint in his eye. "Agreed," he mutters, his greasy finger tracing the map. He scratches his patchy beard with the same finger before picking a piece of roast meat stuck in his beard and plucking it into his mouth. He licks his lips then takes a hearty swill of spiced wine, remnants drip disgustingly from the corners of his mouth. "Sticking to that path gives us the best shot at reaching Fort Venture in one piece." He leans back, eyeing each of you in turn. The flickering firelight dances across his face, momentarily highlighting a flicker of something akin to concern. "Now, about the pace," he begins, his voice laced with a hint of apprehension. "We can take a normal pace, maybe ten miles a day like Sosen suggested. Or go slower, safer for sure, but," he leans forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "we can push a bit harder, maybe cover fifteen miles a day. Get us to Fort Venture quicker, but..." he trails off, letting the unspoken dangers hang in the air. A bead of sweat trickles down his temple, betraying his underlying anxiety. It's clear: a faster pace increases the chance of getting lost in the treacherous marsh.

"I think I would rather arrive alive than fast. I don't mind travelling slower, gives us more chance of arriving at the right destination in one piece"

"Slower is better.  Alive even more so."   Sosen looks about those leaning over the map.  "We have a map and a path and a plan... at least until we get to the fort.  Unless there is something else, we can leave at first light in the morning."

 Folsen, 5th Thunsheer

The first tendrils of dawn strain through the murky sky, painting Urzin in an ethereal grey. A hush hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the mournful croak of a lone frog and the distant chirp of unseen insects. Here, on the fringes of the traveling village, a motley crew gathers, their forms cloaked in the pre-dawn shadows. Sosen mutters a silent prayer to Xalicas, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. Crouched beside her, Morgid meticulously examines his well-worn map, his clawed finger tracing a winding path through the treacherous marsh. Lanu stands perfectly still, her dark form almost vanishing into the twilight. Only the faint glint of moonlight on her head betrays her presence. Peregrine leans against a wall, a short bow strapped to his back. A tense anticipation hangs in the air. This is no ordinary expedition. They are on a mission entrusted to them by Ogre Lord Buhfal II, to delve into the heart of the Brokenveil Marsh and find the missing seer, Bol'bara. The silence is finally broken by Morgid's raspy voice, a hint of nervous energy crackling through his words. "Alright, time to move. Remember, I lead the way, Sosen keeps us oriented, and stay quiet. We don't want to attract any unwanted attention." With a shared nod, the party sets off towards the marsh. Morgid, his senses attuned to the environment, takes point. Sosen follows closely, her eyes scanning the surroundings for landmarks and potential dangers. Lanu glides silently behind them, her keen senses alert for any sound or movement that might indicate a threat. Peregrine brings up the rear, his eyes taking in everything, his mind already formulating backup plans should the need arise. As they approach the outskirts of Urzin and the leading edge of the marsh, the oppressive weight of the unknown settles upon them. The air grows even thicker with humidity, the stench of stagnant water heavier in their lungs. The gnarled trees seem to reach out with skeletal fingers, and the silence is broken only by the occasional splash or rustle in the unseen depths. The party knows this is just the beginning. The secrets of Brokenveil Marsh await, and their resolve will be tested in the days to come.

(Sosen roll Survival with advantage +5 for slow pace)

(Everyone roll a single d20 as well, representing the morning, midday, & evening leg of your day)

Lanu walks in near silence, holding back her grumbling over the boggy terrain. Her head whips to the side with every rustle, half expecting to see something come leaping out at the party, but after the first hour of this, she gest more used to it. Still on edge, but less jumpy at every noise. She places herself in the middle of the group, her long arms able to reach enemies who come from the front or the rear.

(D20 roll, 5)

Sosen Survival Check (Combat Log):   With Advantage = 21   +5 == 26

Sosen looks back as the giant turtle slowly moves further away; knowing it will be long gone from this spot by the time they return.  'If we return,' she mentally corrected herself.   'Not wise to put one's eggs on the plate before having a plate to put them on.'

She grimaced as she stepped in a deeper spot and the murky water soaked her leggings.  Head on a swivel, Sosen scans the immediate and midrange surroundings; noting changes in the marsh others less familiar might miss.

Peregrine watches from behind, seeing every movement his travel companions make while trying to survey their surroundings, making sure nothing changes. His eyes make it easier to see better in the environment darkened by the swamp.

(D20 roll, 13)

The oppressive mist clings like a shroud as you press deeper into the Brokenveil Marsh. Waist-high water, opaque and brown as a bruise, stretches endlessly in every direction. Reeds rise like a silent army in the distance, their tips barely visible through the swirling fog. The spongy earth squelches with every step, sending icy tendrils of water up your legs. The air hangs heavy with the scent of decay and the ever-present drone of unseen insects. Morgid leads the way, his keen eyes scanning the treacherous landscape. Though he navigates with the confidence of a seasoned scout, his brow furrows with concern as he surveys the path ahead. His map, clutched tightly in a calloused hand, looks more like a relic than a reliable guide, its edges frayed and the parchment damp and wrinkled. The path ahead, if you can call it that, disappears into a treacherous expanse of mud and reeds, a known breeding ground for marsh flies the size of small birds and lurking predators with razor-sharp claws.

Four grueling hours have passed since dawn, each step a battle against the sucking mud and the relentless heat that seems to emanate from the swamp itself. Just as fatigue begins to gnaw at your resolve, a sudden sound pierces the monotonous symphony of buzzing insects. A gruff voice, laced with a Dwendalian twang, cuts through the mist. Through a parting in the tall reeds, you see them – a patrol of six Dwendalian guards, led by a weathered veteran sporting a grizzled beard and a gleaming breastplate. They awkwardly hack their way through the marsh, their faces grim and determined despite the difficulty traversing the marsh. Morgid sinks to a crouch, his voice a low rasp. "Dwendalian guards. Most likely searching for goblinoids from Urzin for interrogation. We can't risk being caught – the tensions between our people and theirs are high. What should we do?"

Sosen looked to her companions and gave a slight movement of her hands to indicate they should follow her.   For now, the thought was -- better to seek cover and concealment rather than a head on encounter.    Moving as silently as possible, Sosen moved into the clump of trees and growth to the NorthNorthWest.

Stealth Roll:  11

Once all are into the trees, Sosen would ask if Peregrine Eyes could use the shadows and tree cover to ease forward enough to listen to the patrol.  To see if they say anything that would indicate why they are so far into the marsh and so close to Urzin.

 COMBAT LOG Stealth Roll:  16

Lanu is normally quite stealthy. But she is not used to this boggy marshy conditions. Her longer limbs seem to get stuck more in the mud so she is making more squelches than she would like as she moves off to hide (stealth, 4+5=9) She then whispers to the group "Is the plan to avoid them, or to eliminate them before they get a chance to react?"

Sosen looks at the mud encrusted monk.  Whispering she asks, "You have experienced barely half a day of trudging through the marsh.  You now have an inkling of how the waters and muck can hamper even simple movements.  Think you can go full 'battle mode' without the marsh impeding your motion and skills?" 

The goblin looks at her bedraggled companions , " I do not expect Morgid to throw himself into a battle.  That means the three of us versus 7 of the Dwendalian.  The odds in our favor are questionable at best."

Sosen sighs and looks out through the marshy mangrove, "Now, with the momentary edge of surprise, perhaps we can whittle down the odds more in our favor... and I would prefer to NOT have a roaming patrol coming up behind us in the days ahead."  

A beat of silence hangs heavy, broken only by the relentless drone of marsh insects. Morgid glances down at his calloused hand, the map clutched tightly within it appearing even more worn and fragile in the dim light filtering through the mist. He straightens slightly, a hint of defiance flickering in his gaze. "Maybe I ain't the bravest warrior out there," he says gruffly, his voice laced with a surprising amount of determination, "some might even call me a coward. But I’m a survivor, I ain't one to lie down and die quietly. I’ll defend myself if I have to…at least long enough to save my own skin. We gotta figure out a way past these Dwendalian dogs, and quick. They’re not known for their mercy towards goblinkin."

As an answer to the full battle mode, Lanu launches a swift punch to the air next to Sosen's head, before whispering "My feet are not the only weapons I have. That being said, if there is a way to have them at disadvantage that would be ideal. Or just keep moving as they are headed in the other direction to where we want to go and with their full armour, must find it harder than us in this swamp so will likely stop for more rests."