Ruk’nor’s crew had incredible endurance. For six or seven hours a day, with only a short break when the sun reached its zenith, the riverboat moved along the Toringa powered by the rowers. Oars splashed water more in the afternoon than in the morning, as the crew sometimes tired. This usually occurred when the river narrowed or was joined by another branch of its basin.
Aralim learned, a few days into their voyage, that the Toringa was the longest river on the continent, according to the captain and a few of the passengers. It not only connected the Eye of Maga to the Stormy Sea, but then ran for hundreds of miles to the west, toward Numa’nakres and the Yurna Mountains. He tried to imagine that the waters that flowed around their rowboat were the same waters that had rained on Rema.
Once, they saw Primals on the rainforest riverfront, pulling moss off rocks and snatching bugs from the scattered soil beneath. The furry white creatures stopped to watch the boat sailing by. The crew of Ruk’nor’s vessel grabbed spears and planks of wood in caution, but the primates didn’t hurl rocks or sticks at them, or make any move to follow. That evening, down a jungle slope, they spotted the flickering signs of distant firelight. Though in Rema the Primals were considered base animals, Aralim had heard of humans who hadn’t mastered fire.
More than halfway to the Eye of Maga by the rise of the 12th Moon, they found the river narrowing along a steep jungle rise. The sailors seemed familiar with it, calling out, “Here we go again,” as they shoved oars off rocks and gradually climbed the gentle rapids.
They slammed off one rock, but made it to still waters a few minutes later. Aralim had clung to his staff and the side of the boat, splashed by water, but they had made it. Ruk’nor sent a man below to examine the damage. The cargo-hold was a crawlspace, but the man returned only a moment later. “We’re taking on water,” he said.
Ruk’nor had them put in to shore a few minutes later. The cargo had to be unloaded and then the crew all put their backs into dragging the vessel out of the water. Aralim helped out, though he wasn’t as strong as he had been in his younger days.
“The Eye is only two or three days away,” Ruk’nor announced as he examined a detailed map of the river. “It will take a few days before my ship is river worthy again. If any of you would like to hike, I would understand, though I would ask that you pay part of the remaining fee, as we got you this far.”
The passengers discussed amongst themselves. One man approached Aralim’s group, eying the well-armoured guards. “If you and your warriors will be walking, we would benefit from the safety.”
Aralim shrugged. “We paid for passage to the city, and we’ll wait for it.” He preferred to be patient rather than risk the dangers of the jungle without a proper guide.
Ruk’nor was glad to hear the news. “I’ll crack open a vintage bottle this evening, and we can all have a little festival of our own to pass the time. The repairs will be handled as quickly as possible by my loyal crew.”
That evening, there were a few more campfires in the Toringa River Basin than just the Primals. Aralim couldn’t help but feel that the Primals were out there, in the shadows of the nighttime forest, watching their camp. But they camped in peace, nonetheless.