After clearing out the mossy citadel of wood and mud, the party decided to continue towards where they believed their destination to be. In the distance, along the swamp’s edge, a large ebon boat sat lonely at the dock. Quietly, the group edged forward. Faint music struggled in the dense humid air, and the silhouette of a lone figure appeared sitting on the upper deck. Dead orc-like beasts sat chained to the oar wells, motionless.
Jimrick disappeared in a blink and stealthily made his way to the dock. The music stopped, and a large Duskbeast leapt from the ferry to the dock sniffing the empty air. The Hin froze while the beast breathed foul air into his face. “Grask! What is it boy? What do you see?” Thankfully, the beast had no answer for the Ferryman.