Thanks, says Brask to Burik.  He stands for a while, watching the flames dance around the burning creature, then he takes his watch.

At this point it's about 4 or 5 hours until sunrise, and the rest of the night passes by without incident. The sun shows itself a little earlier on this side of the mountains, and it spills its golden light through the trees surrounding the clearing. The wildflowers perk up, welcoming the light and warmth. Birds begin to sing, and a gentle breeze spreads some of the ashes through the trees on the other side of the clearing.

You begin to pack your things up and prepare for another day of travel. Everyone, roll a nature check.

Nature 3

Nature: 15

Brask looks up at the sky and his surroundings.  He doesn't know much about nature, but here goes:  11

You start heading north again, following the rough trail through the woods. At times the trail fades to almost nothing but a game path, but with the sun off to your right during the morning, it's easy to navigate. By afternoon, though, with the sun high overhead, it becomes more difficult to figure out which way you're going.

Effort is confident that she is continuing north, and eventually she spots a very small stream through the trees. It's not more than two or three feet wide - just some babbling water over small stones and fallen branches. It seems to be flowing northward, though.

You follow it for a bit, and it connects with another tributary, growing into a 10-12 foot wide brook. It's still shallow, but flowing faster. You start to see more wildlife living along it - frogs and turtles basking in the afternoon sun, a few small fish darting in-and-out from sunken trees, and yellow flowers dotting the banks where the grass meets the mud. 

You've been walking six or seven hours now, and are in desperate need of a rest. There are plenty of opportunities along the water's edge, with mossy patches and logs to sit on. 

In addition to resting, you can do anything else you'd like in the forest. Look for edible plants, hunt, fish, practice with your weapons, etc. 

Despite his general lack of familiarity with, or fondness for nature, Brask is enjoying the walk.  The fresh air, the exercise, and the warm sunny weather are making for a very enjoyable day.  As he goes along, he will attempt to stomp the occasional basking frog, mostly because he enjoys giving them a scare than because he particularly wants to catch or kill a frog.

So, he asks Effort as they go, this... er... 'Promise' guy we're going to save.  Rich, are they?  Well connected?   I'm thinking about getting paid for this.  Saving someone's life usually earns a reward, after all.  I'm sure Sam will pay up in time, but Sam's a long way away, yeah? 

I'm assuming they will all chat on and off during the day about various things.  In the period between, Brask will entertain himself with some hunting.  He's a terrible hunter and with his armour he can't sneak to save his life, but he'll give it a try.  Survival 15

Effort looks at Brask askance, and then starts to laugh.  "Promise?  Rich?"   She laughs some more, and it's a rich, deep laugh from her belly, not at all faked.  When she manages to recover her breath, she wipes at her eyes and shakes her head.  "Not unless something has significantly changed since I saw him last.  We were both members of the same tiefling street gang in Gorta.  I thought he died when we lost a local turf war.  But even before that... rich is the last thing I would have called any of us."  She sobers up a bit.  "I want to help him because he's my friend.  But he was always hiding something from the rest of us, even back then... and I guess this has something to do with it.  I don't know what this cult has their sights on him, but if they do... I owe it to him to get him out of this mess.  He's a blood brother to me, and part of the reason I'm where I am right now."

She doesn't add, bound to a fiendish patron for the rest of her life and perhaps afterwards, on a quest for answers and vengeance with little hope of resolution.  Still, it's not that she holds any bitterness towards her former companion.  Well, maybe a little, as she thinks pensively on it.  There was a reason she'd been quick to assume he'd been part of the evil she now hunted.  A bit of an old wound that had been poked at, a scab ripped off.  If Promise had made it out of that attack alive, why did he never try to find me?  To help me?  Weren't we all friends?  How could he have left Cheer and Freedom to die like dogs in the dust?  How could he have left me like that?  She tamps down on the bitterness welling in her heart, feeling Cadmael's swirling gaze resting on her.

Now you're beginning to remind me of our patron as well, the bird observes.

Abruptly, Effort pulls her head up, coming out of her thoughts.  "This camp won't make itself," she says brusquely to Brask.  "Go scouting, make sure nothing threatening is coming towards us," she tells Cadmael, then stomps off to try and determine a good place to set up a camp -- despite being perhaps the least person qualified to do so.  It's a way to burn the restless energy heating up her blood, at least.

Cadmael Scouts: Perception 23
Effort tries to find a place to make camp: Survival: 2 + Guidance 3

(haha, let this be a lesson that rage camping makes for a poor experience...)

Brask, you have very little success hunting. You try to sneak up on a few frogs to have some fun, but they jump away from your clanging armor before you can get within a few feet. You don't seem to mind terribly, though. It's nice during this part of the day and the dappled sunlight along the stream is undeniably relaxing.

Effort, as you start to think about things, you feel something welling up in you. It's not anger or sadness or any identifiable emotion. You feel it coursing through your veins all the same. 

Some darker clouds start to roll in as you rest by the stream. They don't bring a lot of rain - some drizzling now and again - but Cadmael has a tough time scouting as high as he's used to. He doesn't find anything unusual. 

Effort's camp isn't much more than a nice patch of moss next to the stream. She tries to lay a few branches across a crook in a tree to give them some cover from the rain, but they keep sliding and falling into the stream below. Frustrated, she gives up after a few minutes.

The clouds move through quickly, thankfully, and you're left with a few hours of daylight. You can stay here for the night, or push further upriver before nightfall.

"Well guys, what do you think?"  Effort says, by now feeling both tired and restless.  "The last time we camped by a river, it didn't end so well for us.  I'm seriously considering climbing up a tree and tying myself to it this time around."

You worry too much, says Brask, sitting down and getting comfortable.  Shit can happen anywhere.  This place is fine.  

Brask has a glaive that he took, probably from some idiot doggie.  He's going to spend the last hour before sunset attempting to catch fish in the stream using said glaive.  You can take the original survival roll if you like, or this one:  survival 18

Brask, despite using a weapon clearly not designed for fishing, is able to hack and slash some fish in the stream. He ends up catching 3 (each time you or someone else consumes a fish, gain a point of inspiration).

Brask stores the fish in a cool place, and will cook them for breakfast tomorrow morning, one each for himself, Effort and Burik.

(How long does the inspiration last?)

He also takes second watch again; Perception 9

"If you say so," Effort says, trying her best to set up her camping equipment in a way that will best keep off the rain.  After a few frustrated tries of trying to light a fire with a tinderbox and damp wood, she gives up and uses thaumaturgy to force the campfire to life.  "I apologize for being on edge.  But returning to Gorta, though necessary, doesn't make me feel great at all."

Burik tries to find a slightly raised section to bed down on after having a quick look around for some berries, roots, and mosses to make a simple froth out of. (Survival 20)

"Travelling back to places that haunt us is never easy. Regardless of the reason. I hope your friend is alright, though I would not put too much stock in it. Those on that list rarely seem to live long."

Perception for night watch 9

Cadmael will help watch during the evening: Perception 22
And Effort would attempt to keep watch as well, for whichever shift she had: Perception 16 + Guidance 3

Inspiration lasts until you use it. You may use it to gain advantage on any roll.

Burik is pleasantly surprised when he finds a patch of blueberry bushes near their campsite. He collects more than enough for the party, along with some tubers, wild onion, and some garlic scapes. 

After a restful night, you all wake to a light fog. The rain has stopped and the sun is already shining as it emerges to the east just above the hills. It's the most relaxing night and morning you've had in awhile, and breakfast is the best you've eaten since Tyssora's cooking. Fresh fish with garlic and onion followed by handfuls of plump but still slightly tart blueberries. You all feel fantastic as you pack up your things and set off once again to follow the waterway northward. In addition to inspiration, everyone has 1d4 to add to a roll of their choice.

The stream turns into a river rather quickly. It widens throughout the morning, and by early afternoon the flow has slowed and it looks rather deep. It turns ever so slightly to the northeast as the landscape flattens and the mountains once again vanish from sight, far off to the west now. As you begin to think about breaking for a bit, the trees become less dense and you emerge into a meadow. The river flows right through the center, and you can start to make out some movement about a quarter of a mile up ahead. You get a little bit closer, and discover it's a small riverside village with a much larger building at the center. Getting closer still, you realize the fixture isn't a building at all - it's a boat that takes up almost the entire width of the river. It looks to be about three or four stories high. You find yourself surprised that the water here is deep enough for it to travel, but it doesn't seem to be stuck. Planks extend downward, and two smaller boats are attached to the front with a series of chains. 

As you approach, the villagers don't seem surprised to see strange travelers emerging from the wilderness. There aren't many humanoids around the outskirts, and there are only a dozen or so small shacks along the water. Most of the activity is around the boat. There's no market to speak of, but there are people seemingly bartering - carrying boxes and sacks back-and-forth to the water's edge. Some go onto the boat, some come off. Most are humans wearing drab, sometimes dirty clothing. As you get closer, though, you notice some smaller figures heading up the planks. They appear to be...goblins.

Effort, in good spirits after the long rest and the meal, grins as she spots the goblins on board.  "Goblin traders?  I'm liking this place more and more by the moment," she says.  "Why don't we introduce ourselves and see what this city is about?"

Burik moves to cast some magic, or to swing his hammer, you're not sure which. But he seems wrong-footed by Efforts words. He instead adopts a very defensive stance as she moves forwards, never putting himself in position that puts a goblin behind him.

Noticing Burik's movements, Effort's grin becomes sharper.  "Many a people would attack on sight a thing that they fear to be evil.  Is it any wonder the tieflings of Gorta had to band together on the streets just to survive?  I would guess it's the same for many a goblin.  At least these fellows have done well for themselves.  I want to talk to them.  I'm even a bit envious," she says, looking back at the ship.  "They live openly, and in comfort, and the humans that so like to look down upon their ilk are the ones dressed in rags here.  It feels… like a kind of justice to me," she says wryly.