Impromptu supplies are gathered and a hasty camp is setup. A low fire smolders around sodden wood, reinforcing the chill creeping into the adventurers bones. The clinging fog and constant drizzle insures that even the bedrolls are dampened in short order. Ustalav is not a forgiving land and the marshes of the Shudderwood exemplify this.

Saidou and Samara are unable to find purchase among the slick mossy vines and thin branches. When they do find some that may support their weight, their vision is obscured to the point of being useless, or the contortions they must hold to stay on the branches will drain what little energy is left in their sore limbs.

Though the senses of each guard are tested with every creak and scratch, the night goes by without incident. By morning, the party is slightly more rested than when they went to sleep, but their nerves are raw, their clothes and equipment are soaked through and a a cold wind has begun to pickup at the head of the oncoming storms. Despite the gusting breezes, the fog clings to the forest floor, refusing to give up its apparent need to sap every ounce of warmth from anything alive within the marsh.

The sun is not visible above the canopy and likely will not be making an appearance this day. For now, they are alive, and that seems like a surprising thing on this morning.

Haznut packs up, choosing to eat his rations while sitting on his chest. Giving a small shudder with the cold sinking into his bones, he groans and stretches.

"Morning everyone, I'm glad all of our watches went over without a hitch. Saidou, remind me to go shopping with you next time we're in a town with camping supplies, there's a few basics I forgot."

Vostiun wakes and stretches. His body creaks like a much older man's. Wordlessly he sits and eats his rations while Sargon bathes nearby.

Kon wrings the dampness from his bedding before tying it off to his pack again, "Unpleasant evening.  I've camped with my family in dryer forests.  During a summer rain even."  He downs the last of his morning water, tea too weak to even be called tea, wrestles back a gag, and stows his cup.

Standing and readied, Kon looks about at the clearing, "Let's make sure we don't leave anything here.  Toss the burnt wood under the brush or deeper into the wood.  The kami don't often like people making their homes worse.  If there even are kami dwelling nearby."  Grumbling he mutters half heard complaints about the past, "And let's hope we can find where we're going before the rain begins.  If we can find anything helpful along the way, long branches by the trail for example, we should consider bringing some along."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:56, Wed 11 Oct 2023.

Haznut sets about digging a hole big enough to bury the torches under the mud, making sure to cover it back up. “Good idea Kon. I’ll take care of the leftovers from the torches for the little bit of fire we were able to make due with.”

For those of you that this pertains to, what are you doing for your Rest and Daily Preparations (Core Rulebook p.480)

[Kon would have donned his studded leather again for the last watch, since the party would be moving out after waking.  Main gauche will be wielded when setting out]

Haznut Ingut rolled 17 using 1d20+4.  Survival, Cover Tracks of the camp. Once finished with covering up the camp, Haznut is re equipped with his armor, his shield on one arm, and his chest over his free arm’s shoulder. Sword still sheathed, not peace knotted, and his flail holstered on his other side.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:43, Sat 14 Jan 2023.

Samara stops carving her name and a message in one of the trees and pretends she wasn't just doing that.
'Samara was here 4722'

Samara hums a tune as she gets her pack together, but is quick about it, ready to go when the others are.

Saidou's morning routine would be carried out within sight of the others, though not within the boundary of the camp itself. Stretches and a kind of "Hide and Seek" exercise with his companion familiar, as the two play; a colorful purple sock tied into a flag ribbon around a twig, to be hidden in "Plain Sight" by Spirit, and that Saidou was calling back to his feet after locating it.

After his morning ritual of play, Saidou returns to his traveling mates for a short breakfast of rations, adjusting the straps of his leathers and seeming a bit fresher and less cross than the day before.

"Signs of rain aside, dampness and shadow muck, at least this place felt less openly hostile than sleeping at the orchard inn. I wonder why that's the case?

"I think the mutilated dog was actually a pretty open declaration of hostility."

[Vostiun keeps his familiar abilities set to Speech and Cantrip Connection: Guidance.]

Saidou side-eyes Vostiun, stretching one arm up into the air as Spirit tugs a back-strap tight. "I don't know if you had trouble, but back in town I couldn't sleep well. There was quite a hidden ominous feeling about the place. Here, even with the threat of goblins and boggy death, I found my post-watch rest to be exactly that... rest."

"No, it seemed pretty normal to me," Vostiun says with a shrug.

"Those of us who can hide in plain sight have it easy," reminds Kon, "I can pose as human, and you are a human.  Saidou can't turn off the shadow thing, or the grey skin thing, or" he rambles on, listing a few other quirks which call a surprising amount of attention in comparison to the usual races.

"No, Sadie definitely has the right of it! That place had an aura of evil about it. It was hidden, lurking under the surface. Sure, Goblins or someone else may have put something up to warn away trespassers, but at least they were up front and honest about it."

"I imagine at least a small part of the lingering hostility you felt was the result of the acrobatics around the farmers."  Kon shrugs, "Couple that with everyone here being a human and, well, you kind of stand out yourself.  Back home oddities like you or me are accepted," he mumbles out an aside (for the most part), "but even there, a lot of folks prefer their own kind unless you prove your worth.  And while I don't treasure the work, my family's role is the important task of smoothing over the relations between the spirits of the land and the people trying to live there.  It's boring, but it usually came down to this same sort of isolated solidarity of a village not trusting something that wasn't their own."

Hefting his pack again, ensuring everything is in place for the journey, Kon turns back, "I'm not saying people don't appreciate your efforts.  I'm just saying that sometimes you need to show them that despite the fur," he glances to Saidou, "or shadows, you're still just a person.  Deeds, not words is the point.  Lots to be said, little to be trusted.  Especially on our first few hours through an out of the way village."  With a shrug he turns back toward the path, "Perhaps we can tell the people about something interesting on the way back through, or show them something helpful, to garner trust.  We may not be heroes to them, but if we do something that favours them at least you two shouldn't feel like outsiders anymore."

"My acrobatics? Really? I think you give them far too much credit for innocence and not enough criticism for their actions." Samara stomps her foot in frustration, splashing both her and Vos. Scowling, she growls, "I'll wager we get a more honest response from the Goblins, if not friendlier."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:02, Mon 16 Jan 2023.