Val spends much of his time on the shore of the swamp high-stepping through the muck, his internal monologue about how this adventure is costing him a fortune in clothing leaking past his lips unbeknownst to him in soft, disgruntled muttering.
"I swear it smells worse than last time," he says when he finally decides to utter something intelligible. "Like it knew we'd be back eventually, and it's just been keeping its most fetid, foul odors held in reserve for our return for the past two decades."
As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, Val's meanderings start to gravitate towards Muun's meager fire, as he makes a repetitive circuit visiting his companions in turn, though he makes a pointed effort to not make eye contact with Quintus. Stopping near Muun, he witnesses the fearless archer from a realm of unending corporeal nightmares seemingly have a meaningful conversation with his owl before the nocturnal predator takes wing once more. He has several remarks that occur to him in response to this, but none of it constructive, so instead he offers advice on keeping watch. "Last time we were here, this swamp was crawling with crocodiles. Big ones. Tremendously big ones. Be wary, I'm not entirely sure how much good arrows would actually do against them."
---
Next, he passes by Jack, who has been impassively staring at Rand's prone form as per Muun's request. Staring at the stripped, mud caked incantrix bound in the rope, Val can see that he is still among the land of the living, as he can see the steady rise and fall of his chest. "I can see that he's alive Jack, but is he OK otherwise? I've knocked people out before, they usually regain consciousness relatively quickly. Don't get me wrong, the less time this bastard has to try and work his stuff the better off we'll be, but I honestly thought we'd be resorting to a rotation of slapping him around to disrupt his concentration to prevent him from casting a spell by this point. He's no use to us dead, but he's also no use to us if he's never going to wake up..."
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Pulling up alongside Tarkus, he simply stands next to the half orc and gazes off toward the horizon. "I want you to know, Tarkus," he says, "that it was never my intent to make you feel foolish or confused, or anything of the sort with this whole business about trying to undo the past. I know it's difficult to think four dimensionally like that. Hell, I'm one of the smartest people that I know, and I still give Jack a blank stare whenever he tries to explain it to me. But we're sitting here in the brink of success, we're about to completely negate all the terrible things that have been wrought in our absence over the past 20 years, as well as all the terrible things that have happened since our return, thanks in no small part to my judgement calls and actions. That said, we still need to contend with Rand when he wakes up, and there's a very real possibility that we might still lose. If that should happen, if we should fall on this verge of success and all these sacrifices that I have been so willing and eager to make were all in vain... Tarkus, there's not enough words in any language to describe my sorrow and regret for what I've done here these past few weeks."
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As much as he would like to avoid having any sort of direct confrontation with Quintus on account of costing him his arm again, there's several logistical issues that need to be addressed. "Quintus," he says on his approach, "I was hoping to pick your brain for some ideas about how we should approach this. We're short on boats or zombified dire crocodiles, so I'm not entirely certain how we're supposed to reach the monastery. And once we get there, what then? I've got the ring from last time, I don't think Jack needs to breathe, you've got that... fish... thing... you did on our previous visit, but that still leaves Rand, Muun, and Tarkus and we're fresh out of potions last I checked..."