You all retire to the inn and relax in your own various ways. Grimma chats quietly with Miralda in the common room while sharpening her sword. Dolgrim enjoys a pipe. Oberon and Fenwick are up early for some crossfit in the stables. At least the morning has brought better weather - clear skies and a touch less humidity. Miralda has prepared a traveling lunch for you all - jerked grouse, cheese and fresh bread, in a small sack for each of you.
Following father Rhall's directions, you head northeast, along a well-traveled, forested path. The travel is easy and you see no sign of anyone or anything. After a couple of hours the forest thins and the path slopes upwards and widens, still damp from the heavy rains. The sound of rushing water is ahead. "That must be the ford," Grimma says. "Due south will be our temple."