Session starts on September 3, 1136 at 6 pm, Southern Atlin Coast
Luke and I hiked about a mile inland last night before setting up camp. He was in a strange mood, cracking weird jokes that felt extra funny in the middle of the quiet night. It made the hike feel like more of an adventure. As we sat under the stars it made me wonder if Rick had done the same with his friends while on the many adventures he had told me about.
When I woke up the next morning, Luke was gone. At first, I felt a jolt of panic, but as I tuned in to the sounds of the forest, I realized he was far off somewhere, it was the only explanation, I found his tracks heading East, but they were hours old. There were no signs of anything odd other than the absence of Luke. A part of me felt relieved, like I could move at my own pace now. Free from the burden of worrying about the stupidness of Luke. But what would I tell Belda? Assuming that I make it back to the Twins in one piece. I felt lighter, freer, and more excited to see what the day had in store.
With a fresh wave of energy, I picked up the trail along the small creek that Luke and I had planned to follow, hopefully, leading to the cave. Hours passed as I worked my way through the thick, humid plants. The air felt alive, with the heat of the jungle all around but still touched by the faint ocean breeze. It was quiet, but in that quiet, I could feel the thrill of what might come next.
After some hours of trekking on the slight uphill creek path, I stumbled into a clearing where the water pooled into a wide, shallow basin…
That’s when I heard someone approaching.
I froze. I wasn’t sure if they were friend or foe, so I slipped behind the thick trunk of a tree, steadying my breath and knocking an arrow just in case.
A young man came into view, walking slowly with his head down, eyes scanning the forest floor like he was looking for something. He looked about my age—maybe a little younger—but there was something odd about the way he moved, focused and deliberate, like he was on a mission.
I waited until he passed the tree I was hiding behind, then stepped out from the brush, bow still drawn.
“Stop,” I said, not trying to sound threatening, but not hiding my suspicion either.
He turned slowly, hands raised. He was dressed in simple robes, the kind I’d seen monks wear. He carried little with him, just a satchel and a walking stick that looked more ceremonial than practical.
I asked him what he was doing out here, and he said he was searching for an herb—something rare, something he needed to help heal his master who’d fallen terribly ill. His voice was calm, but there was urgency in his eyes.
He asked me to help him look. I told him I didn’t have time for that—I had my own problems to deal with. But he kept pressing. Said the gods would smile upon anyone who aided him. I didn’t care much for the gods at that moment.
The arguing went back and forth until I snapped and shoved him hard to the ground.
He hit the dirt, but to my surprise, he sprang back up like nothing had happened—quick, graceful. Not the reaction of a scholar. The way he moved… it was clear he’d been trained. Martial arts, probably.
Before I could say anything else, a rustling noise from a nearby bush caught both our attention.
A bear exploded from the underbrush and barreled toward us, its roar shaking the ground. It went straight for the stranger.
I didn’t think—I loosed my arrow and rushed in. The fight was brutal and loud, the bear clawing and growling, swiping at anything it could reach. We fought side by side, and eventually I got the kill. The clearing fell silent again, the only sound was our ragged breathing.
I carved out what meat I could from the bear—if I dried it it could last a few days—and as we caught our breath, the stranger finally introduced himself. Burt. I told him my name in return.
We talked for a while. He told me more about his master and the illness. I told him about Luke—how he disappeared, how I wasn’t sure if he left on purpose or was taken. I even told him about that stoner captain Jacob and the cave up north, the one said to hold treasures and maybe even a baby dragon.
Burt thought the herb he needed might be inside the cave too. He suggested we team up. I wasn’t sure at first, but I figured having someone who could fight and move like that wouldn’t be the worst thing.
I asked if he’d seen anything unusual on his way south—if he’d passed the cave—but he hadn’t noticed anything. So we made our way north, sticking close to the creek.
Every once in a while, I used a trick Rick had taught me. If I focused hard enough on the trees, the wind, the animals… I could sense the presence of nearby creatures. It was draining, but useful. Each time I tried it, I only felt normal jungle life. Until the last time.
I was exhausted, but I reached out one more time—and there it was. A heavy presence, thick and cold, just off the creek trail to the west. It was the same feeling I’d had before Andalie was attacked by the undead.
That had to be the place.
Burt and I veered off the path, pushing through thick brush and vines. As the sun dipped low, we finally found it—an opening in the rock, about a mile from the trail, almost entirely hidden behind hanging vines.
We stepped inside. The air changed instantly—cool, damp, and still. A few steps in and we were in complete darkness. I drew my longsword, its magical glow cutting through the black.
Burt stared at it like it was the first time he’d seen magic. Maybe it was. I didn’t explain. We had more important things to focus on.
The cave walls were jagged, the air cold and echoing. We passed through winding tunnels until we stumbled into a chamber—and that’s when we saw them.
Rats. Massive ones. Dog-sized. I nearly pissed myself. We quickly got out of the cave to regroup and calm ourselves. Thankfully the rats did not pursue.
We wandered back to the creek, not far enough away from the rats if you ask me, and rested. I set up my hammock and both Burt and I eventually fell asleep.
We woke up early the next day, before the sun had risen. We agreed that It was time to man up and delve further into the caves.
We reached the entrance and plunged into the darkness. I drew my sword, illuminating the dank dark and eerily quiet hallways.
We ran into the rats soon enough. They rushed us, and Burt and I fought back-to-back, blade and stick flashing. One managed to survive the initial clash and tried to run. It shrieked but I finished it off a second later.
We pushed on, deeper still, until we came across a wooden door. From behind it, I heard strange, garbled voices. Not human.
I opened it slowly—sword ready—and saw a cluster of goblins, ears pressed to the door, doing exactly what we were doing.
The second they saw us, they scattered, bolting through another door and yelling in some guttural language that echoed down the dark corridors.
Not pursuing them, we decided that we should scan this floor more thoroughly. We arrived in a small room littered with sarcophagi. We made the mistake of opening one and a skeleton, clad in armour, attacked Burt. I finished it in one stroke and bones came crashing to the floor loudly. Burt noticed a dagger that the skeleton had been holding, it layed on the ground. He picked it up to examine it.
Session starts on September 4, 1136 at 12:30 pm
