Your dreams do not come easy, your mind is filled with horrors of foul abominations. The poison that the tiefling stuck you with must have had lingering affects that even the talents of River could not detect.
You wake up feeling no more rested than when you lay down. Glasur rubs his bleary reddened eyes, as he links the pikes back to the vessel and then takes it back into more open water.
The travel for the next day is uneventful and you see what must be your goal.
The riverbanks have flattened. Stunted gray trees cling tenaciously to rocky hills beyond. The sun is setting, and the dire pike are thrashing against the white-water current. And then in the distance, you see it—a twisted rise of dark stone, its lower third carved into perfectly aligned upright slabs. As the peak disappears into the descending dusk, the pillars appear to hold up the dark sky itself. The temple lies before you, a day’s march away. It is dark again as Glasur pulls the boat to moor.
[sblock=OOC]
[ame=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TD_pSeNelU]YouTube - Willie Nelson - On the Road Again[/ame][/sblock]