It is morning. There were no further attacks by lizardfolk last night.
Before setting off for the second day of our journey, we inquired about lizardfolk with our host, the farmer. He knew only generalities. There are lizardfolk villages in marshes up tributaries of this river, and humans often trade with these savage creatures, but it is rare for lizardfolk to raid shipping.
The farmer shows no concern that he may be attacked after we leave. This leads us wonder if we were a specific target. The farmer offered a last set of bargains before we departed, squeezing a few more coins from us.
The rivermen loosed our lines and shoved off from the muddy banks. We rest and sleep beneath the sheltering shade of the barge deck cover. Have I mentioned that Will likes to whittle ? Wilhelm that is; offhandedly he’s said we could call him ‘Will’, so we have. He has a dagger, not much of a weapon, barely even metal by definition, but with enough edge and tip that our new friend can do some remarkable work with it. In our down-time, I have seen him take up a formless chunk of wood, and chip away at it to reveal impressive bits of art. He is very intense as he works, and I loathe to interrupt a craftsman in such a state to ask him what he is making.
Journal of Dr. Marcus Grant
Healing Cleric of Pelor, Order of St-Jude Academy (Silabrek)
12th Day, 2nd day down-river from Callia, territory of Ælim.