(Speed Post)

Kei 

"I can offer some assistance with the movement of the head, but I fear only momentarily. Perhaps in the very difficult areas." 

He goes on to explain that, withe the help of his cittern, he can get the head to float for 10mins at a time. Casting Levitate as needed. ((Limited amount of times))

The weight isn't a problem so much as its girth. The skin can be stuffed into the bag of holding, but the head is to wide to jam into the bag without breaking the skull. It probably weighs 150 pounds, and is very bulky and cumbersome. 

"Head very important," answers Valignat.

Gerrard:

"Right.  Well, best speed back to the Queen with the proof of kill, then," replies Gerrard to LIzardman.  He lifts his side of the improvised sling for the crocodile head and asks, "Who would like the *honor* of helping me haul this skull back?"

Kei 

"Seeing that the others are shorter than a bar stool, I'd say it's either me or our lizard friend. Doesn't leave a man much choice." He reluctantly picks up the other side of the sling. "It would be my honour" he says with more than an ounce of sarcasm.

He stows his shield on his back and his cittern slung over his chest. Considering the feat they just pulled off, he is rather quiet as they stomp along. Perhaps the lack of treasure weighs on his greedy mind.

It is early afternoon. You'll likely have to spend at least one more night in this dismal swamp. The insects are out in full force. You set off again, back toward the lair, tracing your steps back through the Hool Marsh. Valignat leads the way; Kei and Gerrard carries a huge head between them.

Hours pass; light begins to fade. You anticipate at least a couple of hours march in pitch darkness before you arrive at Valignat's muddy, miserable "sleeping place".

That's when you hear the noise - many voices, in unison, singing and chanting. It is off to the east, in the direction of the river. Whatever the song is, you can't make out the words at this distance, and it seems rather discordant. 

Dwal

Dwal will do his part and help haul the head back. 

Once they reach the sleeping place, Dwal will set himself down and take a breather.

Upon hearing the voices chanting Dwal will try and pick up the words or at least the rhythm of the chant. 
Investigation: 8
Arcane: 14

Dwal will speak in a low whisper. "Whatcha think those folks might be doing?" he asks the Lizardman.

Gerrard:

Looking down at his armor, heavy burden, and the swampy terrain, Gerrard says quietly, “I am not prepared for a stealthy reconnaissance, but i think some investigation is warranted.”

Kei 

"Let's get a better look at them." He waves his empty hand and suddenly a hoot echoes from a distant thicket. Trill flies straight to Kei's outstretched arm. "Hello little one. Time to work our magic again." He thrusts his arm upwards and sets the owl to flight. 

"If we dare pause a moment, I can take a look at this bunch of chanters". A line of concentration forms on his brow as his eyes turn a milky white. The group recognise this to be Kei's link with Trill. He watches, through Trill's eyes as the bird gains altitude.

Perception 19

You're still more than an hour's march from the sleeping place. It'll be very dark soon.

Dwal listens carefully to the sounds - they seem humanoid, and arcane, but he can't make out any of the words.

Trill flies up, and spies five human women dressed in orange, performing some sort of ritual in a circle, by the river bank, perhaps five hundred feet from you. A raft is pulled ashore nearby. A dead child lay inside the circle, together with flowers and the entrails of some animal. Wisps of deep purple flicker within the circle. They sing and chant in an unknown language.

Peri:

(Assuming Kei describes the scene with the skill of a true bard)

"Hmm. Sounds kinda like a funeral, but there usually isn't any flickerin' lights. I'm thinkin' it might be some necromancy or ritual sacrifice, or some related evil summoning. Either way, we'd be best off avoidin' the scene, out of respect if it's the one and out of caution if it's the other." The thought of a dark rite being performed within earshot recalls to his mind the fiend from the dwarven settlement, and his skin prickles all over.

Dwal

"To my understandin', water and such are part of rituals that involve life. I heard tell of folk trying to bring the dead back by sacrificing beasts and using the energy of water ta aid in the ritual." Dwal says offhandedly. "I ain't sayin' that is what this is, just sayin' cause the way things are done."

Gerrard:

"Doesn't sound like a threat directly to us," responds Gerrard.  "Should we leave them to their ritual and continue towards the sleeping place?" he suggests.

The exhausted party trudges onward, leaving the women in orange to their ritual. (As it fades into the distance you do hear strange and unsettling simian bellowing sounds begin to mix in with their chants and song.)

The last ninety minutes are made in near pitch darkness, as you continue to lug the cumbersome head. The insects continue unabated, and perhaps even attracted to the huge hunk of croc meat you carry.

You finally arrive at the "sleeping place", which is as you left it. (Make a DC 15 Wisdom (Survival) check to receive any benefits of a long rest. Otherwise, the insects were again too relentless to give you proper rest.)

Peri:

Peri volunteers to take the first watch so that the casters can get a full night's rest (if the insects allow). When it's his turn to sleep: Survival 10

Kei 

Trill sits atop the croc head, happily eating the bigger of the buzzing insects. "Damn bird, couldn't you do that whilst flying instead of sitting on this already heavy load?" He barks at Trill in a mocking voice. Appreciative of a few less bugs, Kei leaves the owl be. As they traipse towards the 'sleeping place' in complete darkness, he contemplates illuminating the area with magic but decided that darkness is as much an ally as foe with their current cargo.

Arriving at the muddy hollows he drops his side of the sling with an audible sigh of relief. "Thanks for your help Crocodile Hunter!" he winks (not that anyone can see it) at the halfling. "Wake me if you need to. I'm going to try and get some sleep." He huddles down in the muck and attempts to fall asleep. When finally comfortable he whispers to Trill "Keep an eye out for us little friend".

Survival 22

Gerrard:

Exhausted, Gerrard beds down and tries to get some rest.

Survival:  11

Dwal

Shrugging his shoulders, Dwal moves along with the party. Upon hearing the "simian" sounds Dwal will try to block them out in his mind by reciting some incantations, in technical terms.

"Sleep requires a pinch of sand, Hold one's hand at a 90-degree angle, reciting the words needed, and toss the sand towards the target," he mutters to himself.

Upon reaching the "sleeping place" Dwal will help get things ready, the best he can, and take his turn on watch.

Survival: 12

and with that roll-Dwal is exhausted :P

Oceanus: Survival: 19

 Only Kei and Valignat get a Long Rest. The rest of you now have one level of Exhaustion. (Disadvantage on all ability checks.)

The night is uneventful other than one anxious eyeful Peri received on his watch, when a massive swarm of rats - numbering in the thousands at least - raced through the entire area from north to south. It last just a couple of minutes, and then it was over. 

Dwal

Upon waking Dwal is surlier than normal. "Let's get this over with."

Dwal will take his turn carrying the head. 

Peri:

After his watch Peri again crawls into his hole, and again fails to get any sleep. The instant the sky begins to lighten he stomps out of his filthy den and begins angrily stuffing his pack. "All right, everybody up! Let's get this head back to the Queen before it gets any riper! I've got a date with either a boat captain or my mattress, and at this point I don't care which wins out. Oh, and all the little sunflower seeds all over the ground? Don't eat 'em. They're gifts, not from the gods but from a galleon's worth of rats." Peri hoists his pack and, as soon as the others are ready, stomps off toward the lizardfolk lair, his good humor erased by fatigue, grime, and wet boots.