After rinsing the blood off the deck, Vorman put the buckets back where they came from and then cast a critical eye over the river.  He pointed to the jumping school of fish, which were falling behind.  "Look, they're starting to slack off.  Looks like the squid are getting full.  We shouldn't have too much more trouble with them tonight; we're ahead of the pod, now.  Barring a rare waterdrake or evil naiad or something like that, we should only have to worry about threats from land."<br/><br/>It wasn't too much later that the sound of distant, primal drumming echoed between the mountains, some Dark tribe somewhere nearby, celebrating or giving homage to their savage gods.  It sounded distant enough that there was likely to be very little threat to them, but it served as a reminder that the land was no longer strictly theirs to roam at will.