With the undead, Sickle, and the gnome on the other side having secured a rope across, Sir Darak, Sedrik, Yroc, and Azaka head back across the bridge (bowing to the statue) and to the jungle on the far side. They seemingly are not interested in any "rope" bridge.  Sedrik pulls his leather jerkin off, leaving only a thin shirt underneath, which he also pulls off, as he pulls an axe out of his backpack. Sir Darak looks around the jungle suspiciously, but, having been in the jungle for almost 3 weeks, he doesn't get any sense of any immediate danger, and chopping wood in this heat in armor would be crazy.  He pulls his chain shirt off.  Azaka raises an eyebrow at the two bare chested men as they get to work.  Not being a slouch, she takes turns as stops to take a breath are had.  Soon enough they've cut down and trimmed five stout logs just under thirty feet long each. They take a few swigs of water and then, get to hauling the logs across the bridge. Sir Darak hauls two, one on each shoulder, as Azaka and Sedrik take one. Yroc and Ham take the last couple. Bowing at the center of the bridge is awkward with two large logs on his shoulders, but Sir Darak accomplishes it ease.  

Perhaps a total of two hours later the group has a span of wooden beams across the gap, secured with a bit of rope. After crossing, looking back at their handy work, Azaka says, "This may help others in the future.  I am pleased with this work." 

The group picks up their bags, and pushes onwards into the jungle, Azaka keeping your path near the river canyon. 

The rest of the afternoon passes uneventfully and soon enough you set your evening camp. You all go through your camp routines, though Sedrik and others need to do a bit more without Gregory around. Kasaaptu has less to do than usual without Hammu to manage.  At one point the group has a good laugh as one after another, Badger, then Sedrik, then Sir Darak seem to have troubles putting a tarp up over Badger's hammock, the string untying several times. Sedrik smiles at Sir Darak, "Maybe we should spend a bit more time practicing our knots and less swinging our swords tonight?"  

Azaka then finds herself cursing at the fire. She's managed to get it started a couple times but it keeps going out and she sits down to start it once more. 

Sickle comes back from his usual short walk, barefoot, his feet covered in dirt, "Ok, where are my boots?"   

Whem no one answers, Sickle will scour the area, looking for his boots. Perception: 13

After a while, Badger starts to wonder: why so much bad luck all at once? This in turn reminds him of Ellywick, one of the gnomes from his home burrow, who used to like playing secret pranks on Badger, and then tease him by asking him to 'divine' the source of the 'bad luck'. Could one of his companions be a secret prankster? They'd all been so serious before! Perhaps the newcomer, Ham?

With these suspicions, Badger nonchalantly sat in his usual pose by the fire with his spellbook, but rather than meditating on his research, he cast Detect Thoughts and started scanning certain members of the group, looking for surface thoughts of trickery. Judging that he can extend his concentration long enough to scan all ten members of the group, he starts with the newcomers Ham and the zombie, then moves on to the next most likely candidates, Kasaaptu and Yroc. (If finding nothing) he then considers the less-likely sources Silas, Boris then Sedrik. (If he still finds nothing) he pauses before continuing, thinking how unlikely the ultra-serious Azaka or Darak would be to play pranks, or Sickle to feign stealing his own boots, and instead spends the last few moments scanning for any other sources of thought in the area...

"Perhaps one of those monkeys are afoot.... No pun intended. Why far are we from our destination?" Silas questions as purify the food and water. 

Badger sits next to the sputtering fire that Azaka tries to get going.  He is quiet, like he's deep in thought.  Sickle notices his boots sticking out of Silas' backpack, his bag's top open over by his hammock. 

Badger:

Kasaaptu:  

 Badger, you're interrupted as someone shoves you roughly from behind.  You turn around to see Silas standing there looking at you.  Silas looks down, somewhat cluelessly as you glare back at him.

 "Azaka, you spoke of trickster gods in these lands, how mischievous are they?" Silas questions. 

Oho! So that's it! Badger fumes. Silas is feigning innocence by asking Azaka about monkeys and trickster gods, while secretly passing around the camp causing mayhem. A flimsy deception, far too insipid for gnomish perspicacity. At last his true colours are revealed! My prediction is finally clear - the cards - the Abjurer and the Berserker - he pretends to be a protector but is in reality an agent of chaos. Well, you can't hide from a seer! Let's see how he likes the taste of his own medicine...

Badger casts Minor Illusion to create the sound of a whisper audible only to Silas. He aims for a sublime, deific male voice that calls Silas' name, identifies itself as Torm, and requests him to leave the camp and walk toward the river canyon. If Silas responds, Badger will cast Invisibility and follow him.

Azaka crouches by the fire, cursing quietly as a stream of smoke pours off of her fire, flames again licking slightly on the wood.  Boris and Sir Darak are setting up hammocks after finally getting the tarp over Badger's hammock tied.  Ham crouches against a tree, seemingly in quiet prayer.  Silas, as Badger glares at you, you hear a voice quietly right next to you, it's deep, and slightly melodic, and says, "Silas, this is Torm. You must leave the camp and walk towards the river canyon."  Sickle is walking towards Silas' backpack, a frown on his face, while Silas and Badger stand near the fire looking oddly at each other.  Kasaaptu has stopped pulling out her cookware and is looking at Badger with curiosity. The air is warm and humid as usual.  Yroc is setting up his rain catcher. The undead creature stands fairly still, just outside the ring of hammocks, its dead eyes staring lifelessly into the camp. 

 Silas sighs as he pulls his bedroll from his backpack, "I am not one for what you call jokes or tricks. I am not one who's easily fooled. Also do I look like someone who can steal boots without everyone seeing me do so?" Silas will move exaggerated to emphasis his scale armor that makes stealth quite difficult, "Now I'm going to sleep, i'll sleep where everyone can see me if it ease your minds. Sir Darak if I may just make a minor request and ask you use your paladin unique ability to sense if anything too unnatural is afoot?"

Azaka responds to Silas, "The trickster gods? I don't know too much about them, but yes, mischievous is a good word." 

Silas sees Sickles boots in his bag and has to remove them to get to his bedroll. 

Sir Darak Darkhall: Having finished his tasks, the Paladin approaches the others, casting his piercing gaze first upon the Undead, next the Lizardman, before surveying the rest of the area. Calming his mind, he calls about the wisdom of Tyr as he activates Divine Sense.

Jaw clenched, Darak strides toward the zombie. Between gritted teeth, he demands, "Trickster God's or not, your story does not add up. Just happen to speak Giant, do you? You say you're from a town in Cormyr? I know the country well - tell me what you know of it? In fact, you'll tell me everything there is to know about yourself. Your entire life story if necessary. Now speak!"

Insight: 3

Intimidation: 11

The undead's mouth drops open, then closes. Its hands raise up slightly defensively, "Woah there brave knight. I'm not having the betht month. But I will tell you. Where thall I thtart?  I gueth I wath born in the city of Evening-th-tar. My mother and father had a thmall home and raithed Tre'th'th'ym, which made them very good money. We lived on North Th'tar way next to ol'Maggy who ran a th'laughter houthe. The Tre'th'thym would coth't theveral lion'th...the gold coin'th of Cormyr, and were a plea'th'ure to be around my whole childhood.  When I wath old enough, my parent'th could afford to thend me to a univer'th'ity, and I went to Arabel to attend.  I completed my th'chool and joined a role in the government. The country is ruled by a monarch, with the Regent Alu'th'air Obarskyr in charge, and the high wi'th'ard  who lead'th the countrieth force of war wizard'th, Mondagal, ath a primary advi'th'or. Thome people have been talking for a few year'th that we th'hould be run by a council, and that a monarchy is out of th'tyle, but it doe'th'n't theem to get much traction. In the government, my role was to a'th'i'th't with minor task'th around logging and recording logi'th'tical information for the purple dragon'th, the army, and war wi'th'ard'th."   Mandra stands back, putting her hands on her hips, with a "now what have you got to say" stance. 

"I barely understood half of it," Silas states as he grabbed the boots and tosses them over at the barefooted then gets his bedroll.

Sir Darak Darkhall: Sensing no untruths, the Knight's suspicions are assuaged for the moment. He replies, "Perhaps what you say is true - perhaps not. Either way, you could still be an unwitting spy, your soul bound to some dark force that is using you without your knowledge. With luck, the Aarakocra have a Shaman or Seer that can make sense of what's happened to you."

Sickle catches the boots, still confused as to why Silas took them.  “What’s going on around here?”

When Sir Darak finishes, Sickle says, “My friend, I understand your distrust, but let’s be glad for now at the thought of one less soul gone to feed this evil power. It hadn’t occurred to me, but as you said, getting her to someone who can perhaps discern the source of her...departure from the normal order of things lately.”

You all hear a strange "snickering" sound, mixed with some giggles, and turn to look up into a branch as a small, cat sized dragon with big yellow butterfly wings, its tail wrapped around the branch.  It seems to be giggling or laughing. 

It's begins speaking, strange almost musical language and with several lisping and humming sounds as it speaks in Sylvan.  Everyone stands around looking at each other, not comprehending. 

Mandra the undead of all people speaks up, "It thay'th that we can all take a prank pretty well.  We've been good th'port'th, and tho it will talk with uth for a time." 

Kasaaptu gives a giggle in response to the strange and beautiful creature

Sir Darak Darkhall: His hand moving reflexively to the hilt of his sword, the Paladin refrains from drawing the blade as he instead activates Divine Sense. Slightly perturbed, Darak says, "What is the meaning of this, Sir... Feline?"

Badger is slightly abashed as he realises his suspicions were misplaced, and more than slightly surprised that Mandra speak Sylvan as well as Giant. How many more languages does she know? But seeing the mini-dragon in the tree peaks Badger's curiosity, and he quickly forgets about the pranks and the languages in order to ask a question...

Urgh, Mandra, can you ask if it can warn us of any dangers ahead before we reach Kir Sabal?

If there are no other questions from the others, Badger will also ask if the creature knows the location of any 'lost city of Omu' or knows of anyone that might.

Sickle reaches for his staff at the sudden appearance of the tiny dragon.  Seeing the wings he warns the others, “Be careful with this one. The, uh...” he pauses, embarrassed, “...the monkeys warned me about him saying he, uh, ‘ruined their fun’ “.

he finds himself wondering if he should be careful himself of believing a band of monkeys on a bridge.

He addresses the beast through Mandra.  “Tell it that we come peacefully, looking for the source of an evil that plagues the world. Ask them if it knows anything about a Soulmonger.”