The heroes retire for the night, Anjie to her room whilst the other three find a comfy spot with near the common room fire, sharing the place with two other who seem to have their own place to stay but choose to rest here. However they hold back, allowing the saviours of Moha to pick the best spots before settling down themselves. The night at least is uneventful, and you wake early in the morning. You are offered breakfast, meagre by the standard of the previous night, a few crusts of butter fired bread. Not for lack of gratitude, the locals simply lack the coin to properly express their thanks. A few coppers of your own would no doubt buy something better if you wished: lean cuts of meat thrown into the pan, or a serving of black pudding.<br/><br/>Outside the Goblin’s Grapes, Moha itself is stirring to life. The merchant who helped against the swamp beast, with that one crossbow shot before needing to retreat, has emerged and is getting ready to leave, south away from the Skirith lands, and after he events of yesterday who can blame her? The villagers meanwhile are disposing of the swamp beast’s corpse, a large pyre having been contracted just outside the confines of Moha, on which the wet corpse now smoulders, requiring constant attention from reluctant volunteers. The rest of the villagers try to avoid the smoke, and debate what to do about their fire food situation, as the task demanded almost all the village’s reserves. Hayden is considering offering coin if an unused building is torn down, provided it is not made of rotwood, but fey seem tempted by his offer. Still, it is not winter, and so this problem is not that urgent yet, so the solution may simply be a wood cutting expedition, once Lady Murn has recovered, which is said will be in just under two weeks.<br/><br/>The bodies of the korija are another problem. Burning is obviously not an option, not that anyone wants to, there’s a belief that fire should be kept away from such creatures, even in death. Instead their bodies are bound tight with rope, many stones are gather, a task with which the children eagerly help. These are bound into four pouches of cloth, which are then attached to the korija. Finally a craft is procured, simple in design, but it floats, which is enough. Now all that is needed is a volunteer to take the raft out a fair distance from the village, and commit these bodies to a grave of shallow water.<br/><br/>Zita’s hut is a few miles from Moha, but the route will take you into the marshes. Ideally the journey will take no more than two hours, but that is assuming you run into nothing and have fair weather. The sky is clear, with just a patch of cloud, but the swamp holding no surprises is less certain. The three villagers who went to investigate the greyhorns found one missing; a blow to be sure, that could have fed many people or fetched a dozen silver, but with the rest of the herd accounted for the loss a single bull won’t be the end of Sherga. Tentative measures have been made to scout the edges of the swamp, since both monster attacks seemed to have come there. Nothing out of the ordinary was seen, two hawks are hovering above a hill, and they have been known to attack humanoids, but only rarely. Apart from that no dangers were spied, just rabbits and the odd ripple of a trout, but it is doubtful they moved that far away from the safety of their village.