Lost World

Lost World

View all episodes in Mythic Cycle.

Season 4: Episode 1

In this epic episode, the party takes on their most dangerous and clandestine mission yet for the South Trading Company! They must survive a furious ocean storm, a narcoleptic ship captain, and a grueling journey to the dreaded “Lost World” to hunt down a rogue mining agent. But nothing could prepare them for the absolute chaos that attacks the base camp walls on their very first night watch. Will the party’s makeshift defenses hold up through the night of their lives? Watch to find out if their capable hands can survive the deadliest night of their lives!

• Arrival at Valen & The Tampered Letter : After their journey through the desert, the party arrives at the coastal fishing town of Valen. While at a local tavern called the Bait and Switch, they receive a letter from the South Trading Company (STC). They notice the wax seal has been broken and intimidate the bartender, Ipstitch, into admitting he read it. The letter instructs the party to head to a remote island for their next mission.

• Securing Passage and Supplies: The party gathers wares for the journey, acquiring items like water-breathing gills and a makeshift fishing pole consisting of a stick and some string. To cross the treacherous seas, they speak with the eccentric Captain Marley. Finding out Marley has sunk multiple ships, they instead hire a gnome captain named Bjorn. They trade their STC letter to the dock master for a ship, and Marley agrees to give them the navigation directions to the island.

• The Treacherous Sea Voyage : The party sails toward the island and hits a terrible storm. They must work together using strange objects to survive a series of ship-bound disasters, including a torn sail (patched with an ivory elephant and stitched), Bjorn falling overboard (rescued with a bean bag and a rope), a hole in the hull (plugged with a bean bag and a spear), and a loose cannon sliding across the deck.

• South Tracding Company Basecamp: The party successfully arrives at the Lost World, a lush, prehistoric jungle island with a walled STC base camp. Inside, they meet the eccentric, accountant Aberton. Aberton informs them that a former top miner named Knox has gone rogue and is smuggling tin off the island. Aberton tasks the party with stopping Knox by any means necessary. They also meet Jasper, the head of mining operations, who offers them armor upgrades and points them toward the volcanic caldera where Knox is operating.

• Night Watch Dinosaur Attack : The party is assigned to stand guard on the palisade wall for the night. During their watch, an undead creature emerges from the jungle carrying a barrel of explosives. The party shoots the barrel with magic missiles, destroying the zombie. The explosion alerts a massive, prehistoric dinosaur that bursts from the trees. The party enters combat, combining their abilities, Eldritch cannons, and the wall’s ballista to heavily damage the dinosaur. Cort spots and smites a second explosive-carrying zombie trying to sneak up. The dinosaur ultimately flees back into the jungle.

• Commendation: Jasper enthusiastically praises the party for their defense of the wall and promises them a squad of five STC soldiers to assist them on their expedition into the deep jungle.

Arrival at Valen & The Tampered Letter

The harsh, blinding wastes of the desert finally gave way to the jagged coastline, leading the weary adventurers to Valen. It was a windy, vital fort city that hung heavily with the scent of salt, fish, and desperate survival. Seeking refuge, the heroes found themselves in the “Bait and Switch,” a boisterous pub reeking of the local fishmongers. Above the bar hung a grim trophy hinting at the dangers of the world: a massive jawbone lined with serrated teeth, each the size of a dagger

As the party rested and recounted their desert exploits, the tavern’s owner, Ipstitch—a small, wheezing man who looked as though he had been dried out in the sun like a piece of salted leather—shuffled over to their table. He brought a fresh round of light lagers and a missive, his eyes darting nervously.

“I wasn’t dropping no eaves none, but seeing as y’all are under the employee of the South Trading Company, I has here a letter.” -Ipstitch

He presented the envelope, addressed to their expedition leader, Zara. But the keen eyes of the adventurers immediately caught the deception. The crimson wax seal bearing the mark of the STC had been cracked, its edges crudely remelted in a hasty attempt to hide the tampering. The Goliath paladin, Cort, rose to his full, towering height, overturning the table as his massive hand clamped down upon the small bartender’s shoulder

“Why did you open it, sir?” -Cort

Ipstitch stammered, his bravado evaporating under the paladin’s shadow.

“I… I am a poor merchant, and I may have seen some of the contents, but I quickly resealed it on your behalf! Information is my specialty of sorts.” -Ipstitch

Unamused by the thief’s excuses, Simbiscuit the kobold decided to escalate the interrogation. With a sudden burst of magic, a dog-sized drake materialized on the tavern floor, its fiery, withering edges illuminating the room as it flared its wings directly in the terrified bartender’s face. The pub fell dead silent.

“I see that. So I’ve read this, and make sure that he doesn’t sell the information or use it to his advantage.” Trembling so violently he nearly lost control of his bladder, Ipstitch nodded frantically, desperately trying to appease the furious heroes.

“Don’t worry about it! I will put it on the tab of the South Trading Company, and a double rounds of lagers for you all!” -Ipstitch

Cort, unyielding in his sense of justice, scoffed at the bribe.

“Wait, so you steal information and you’re just going to charge the trading company for it? That’s not right.” -Wark

Held suspended in the air by the giant’s fist, the terrified Ipstitch could only nod in slow, defeated agreement, leaving the party to finally tear open the compromised letter and discover their next perilous destination.

Securing Passage and Supplies

The salty air of Veilen bustled with fishmongers, offering the heroes their first challenge: outfitting themselves for a perilous voyage to a remote, untamed island. The party scattered through the markets to gather essential wares. Cort, the towering Goliath paladin, stubbornly hunted for proper plate armor, seeking an upgrade to protect him from the coming dangers. Meanwhile, others scoured the docks for potions of water breathing, and Sinbiscuit the kobold embarked on a rather confused quest to find a fishing pole, demanding a highly specialized tool from the bewildered locals.

“I want a water creature stick.” -Sinbiscuit

Knowing they needed a seasoned sailor to cross the treacherous North Sea, the party approached Captain Marley. With sun-drenched gold skin, a salt-stained silk vest, and an undeniably infectious grin, the fluid-gendered captain possessed a striking swagger. Marley eagerly offered their vessel, claiming their ship was perfectly fit for sail. However, the heroes grew highly suspicious of Marley’s nautical competence after a brief, alarming interrogation about their past voyages.

“How many ships have you been a captain of that sunk?” asked Wark. “At least two. Well, I do not sink ships my ships are sack.” Captain Marley replied. “I think we need a captain who actually knows how to sail ships that get to their destination instead of sinking halfway!” Wark concluded.

Deciding that Marley’s track record was far too deadly, the party opted to hire a boisterous gnome named Bjorn to be their captain instead. However, they still lacked a ship of their own. Approaching the local dock master, the penniless adventurers relied on the weight of their employer’s name. Offering their compromised South Trading Company letter as high-stakes credit, they struck a bargain. In a stroke of luck, the dock master even threw in a fishing pole to seal the deal.

“If you buy a ship I’ll give you a fishing pole. I’ll take any collateral you might have and may farewell at sea.” -Dock Master

With a vessel secured and Gnome Captain Bjorn ready at the helm, there was only one remaining obstacle: Bjorn had no idea how to navigate to the perilous Isle of Dread. Swallowing their pride, the party returned to Captain Marley. In exchange for a place on the journey, Marley agreed to serve as their navigator, drawing out a crude map and teaching Bjorn how to chart their course by the stars. With the night sky as their guide, the fully supplied party finally set sail into the chaotic, roiling waters of the ocean, ready to face whatever lay waiting in the Lost World.

The Treacherous Sea Voyage

The sky above the treacherous North Sea bruised into a furious, churning purple as the gale descended upon the Auspice. Driven by the merciless winds, the sea became a liquid mountain range, violently tossing the gnome-captained vessel as if it were a mere child’s toy. Rain sheeted down in blinding gray veils, turning the wooden deck into a slick, heaving battleground where the adventurers fought not against monsters, but against the very fury of nature itself.

Their first disaster struck with a deafening rip. The tempestuous winds caught the main sail, tearing a jagged, gaping hole through the canvas and threatening to leave the Auspice entirely at the mercy of the rolling waves. With the fabric thrashing violently, the party resorted to the bizarre, eclectic souvenirs they had scavenged.

“I need something to keep it from flapping so much, so I pinned down a corner of it with the large elephant ivory statue.” -Wark

“While it’s weighed down I’m going to use the dragon lure that I have to attach to a string and then sew it.” -Sinbiscuit

No sooner was the sail stitched together than a heavy splash echoed over the roar of the sea. The great wheel of the ship was spinning wildly, completely abandoned. Captain Bjorn, the eccentric and profoundly narcoleptic gnome, had fallen asleep at the helm and tumbled overboard! Through the churning foam, his tiny form bobbed farther and farther away.

“I’m going to take a swig from this bottle of rum… for some courage, warmth into this icy water. I’m going to tie a rope around my waist, tie it to the back banister and just jump over.” -Party Member

Diving into the freezing abyss, the brave hero managed to haul the sodden, snoring gnome back onto the deck. To wake their slumbering captain, they employed a highly unorthodox medical technique.

“I will slap him in the face with a bean bag, a very large bean bag.” -Sinbiscuit

“I tuck a stuffed crocodile into his arms.” -Sinbiscuit

Before they could even catch their breath, the hull groaned under the impact of a massive wave, and a jagged splinter ripped open the ship’s flank near the waterline. Frigid seawater began to pour into the hold. Racing against time, the party coordinated an absurd but brilliant repair utilizing the strange cargo onboard.

“I am going to use a jewel chalice bearing Mot’s likeness to bail out the ship.” -Party Member

“I have a large octopus spear that I can help wedge the bean bag into the side of the ship.” -Cort

With the gnome captain revived, the hull plugged by a massive bean bag, and the sails holding true, it seemed they had survived the worst of it. But the storm had one final test. A heavy crack of snapping hemp signaled that a massive iron cannon had torn free from its moorings. It instantly became a multi-ton pendulum of death, sliding wildly back and forth across the rain-soaked deck and threatening to crush anyone in its path.

The artificer Bang, ever eager for destruction, proposed a characteristically dangerous solution to the loose cannon.

“I will rapidly create a shaped charge… so that when I ignite the mining explosives, the cannon is blown off of the ship.” -Bang

Thankfully, the rest of the party intervened before the ship could be blown to splinters. Combining their remaining eclectic artifacts—using the heavy ivory elephant, the sturdy octopus spear, and a length of thick rope—they managed to pin the deadly cannon in place.

Battered, soaked to the bone, and surrounded by the chaotic aftermath of their patchwork repairs, the heroes finally saw the storm break. As the dark clouds parted, the untamed, primeval coastline of the Lost World came into view. They had survived the North Sea, but the true nightmare of the jungle island was only just beginning.

South Tracding Company Basecamp

The treacherous sea voyage finally behind them, the heroes set foot upon the shores of the Lost World, a primeval nightmare of untamed jungle and towering beasts. Stepping past the massive wooden palisade of the South Trading Company’s base camp, they were greeted not by civilized comfort, but by the sweltering, oppressive heat of a clear-cut wasteland. Here, the boundary between the chaos of the wild and the order of the Maercant was drawn in mud, sweat, and the endless toil of desperate men.

Seeking their contact, the adventurers entered the main administrative office—a stifling, corrugated tin-roofed shack. Inside, amidst the sprawling chaos of curling maps and scattered papers, stood Aberton, the Chief Accountant. He was a bizarre contradiction to the wilderness: perfectly groomed and wearing an immaculate, starched white shirt, yet inexplicably missing his trousers.

“Where are your pants?” -Bang

“Are you the capable hands?” -Aberton

Ignoring the inquiry about his missing pantaloons, the fastidious accountant demanded the names of the party. After meticulously recording Cort, Bang, War, Ralph, Simbiscuit, and a temporarily powered-down W00t in his ledger, Aberton laid out their true, clandestine purpose. A brilliant former STC mining agent named Knox had gone completely rogue. Seduced by the dark, chaotic power of the island, Knox had retreated into the untamed interior, rejecting civilization and utilizing dark necromancy to mine tin and smuggle it out from under the company’s nose.

“I need you with the most discretion possible to stop this from happening… use extreme prejudice with Knox by any means necessary.” -Aberton

Leaving the eccentric accountant, the party ventured toward the heart of the camp: a sprawling open-pit mine coated in chalky white dust. To their horror, dozens of reanimated corpses, clad in tattered STC uniforms, mindlessly hauled heavy baskets of ore from the excavated earth. Overseeing this grim operation was Jaspers, the ambitious head of mining operations.

“I am in charge of the mining operation… Are you new recruits? We’re the capable hands.” -Jaspers

“You know Knox, he was one of our best, a good soldier… one of the best miners that I’ve ever seen… but this island, it changes men.” -Jaspers

Eager to see the rogue wizard dealt with, Jaspers gladly assisted the party with their logistical needs, outfitting the towering paladin Cort with a newly acquired suit of half-plate armor to withstand the island’s terrors. Jaspers pointed the heroes toward the distant volcanic caldera where Knox was believed to be hiding. However, before the party could trek into the deadly jungle, Jaspers informed them they had one immediate duty: they were to take up arms and man the night watch on the palisade walls, standing guard against whatever prehistoric horrors lurked in the dark.

Night Watch Dinosaur Attack

The humid air of the Lost World was thick with the scent of damp earth and night-blooming jasmine. High above the jagged, swaying canopy of the untamed jungle, the moon hung like a polished shield of bone, casting a pale glow over the clear-cut wasteland before the South Trading Company’s base camp. The capable hands—Cort, Bang, Wark, Ralph, Sinbiscuit, and a temporarily powered-down W00t—stood their assigned watch atop the rough-hewn log palisade, peering into the oppressive darkness.

The quiet symphony of nocturnal beasts was suddenly broken when a lone, stiff-gated figure emerged from the long shadows of the treeline. The humanoid trudged forward, clutching a heavy, ironbound barrel of mining explosives to its chest.

“Eyes up, something’s coming tonight!” -Cort

As the undead sapper lumbered toward the wooden walls, the artificer Bang didn’t hesitate. Pointing his fingers toward the creeping threat, he unleashed a volley of glowing magic missiles that streaked through the night sky. They bypassed the zombie entirely, striking the wooden crate dead-on. A thunderous, concussive blast shattered the quiet night, raining bits of gore and splintered wood against the palisade.

But the explosion was only the beginning. Sinbiscuit’s summoned magical drake came fluttering back to the wall in a panic, relaying a telepathic warning to the kobold.

“Very large heading this way right now.” -Sinbiscuit’S Drake

“Ready the cannons and the ballista! Keep an eye out for any more explosives!” -Cort

The jungle shuddered. A nightmare in scales burst through the treeline, a mountain of lean muscle and prehistoric hunger. The massive dinosaur stomped into the clearing, reared its terrifying head, and sniffed the air, enraged by the noise and hungry for flesh.

“I’m gonna hunter’s mark the big guy… and I will shoot it with my bowy bow.” -Sinbiscuit

Arrows flew from the kobold’s bow, finding their mark in the beast’s thick hide. Beside him, Ralph the orc cleric channeled the divine power of his chaotic deity, unleashing a blinding Guiding Bolt that seared into the dinosaur with devastating force.

“Cravy crawers!” -Ralph

War, standing resolute beside his twin brother Bang, readied his weapons, determined to shield his squishy sibling from the towering prehistoric threat.

“I am the wall that protects him.” -Wark

Meanwhile, Bang casually deployed his Eldritch Cannon, a glowing force ballista that unleashed a crackling bolt of pure magical energy. The blast struck the beast squarely in the forehead with staggering, critical force, rocking the massive creature back on its heels.

“Yeah, and I kept you safe again.” -Bang

Noticing the rest of the party had the dinosaur distracted, the keen-eyed Goliath paladin, Cort, activated his Divine Sense. Through the chaos, he detected a second undead sapper attempting to sneak through the shadows. Cort vaulted over the palisade defenses, charging the zombie and bringing his heavy warhammer down with a blinding flash of radiant Divine Smite, neutralizing the threat before it could detonate.

Battered by the relentless barrage of magic and steel, the dinosaur’s advance faltered. The STC soldiers manning the wall’s heavy ballista finally found their range, sending a massive bolt deep into the creature’s neck. With a gurgling whimper, the beast turned and bounded back into the dense jungle, fleeing into the night.

Commendation

The heavy, humid air of the Lost World settled once more as the thunderous footsteps of the fleeing dinosaur faded deep into the prehistoric jungle. Atop the rough-hewn palisade, the capable hands—Cort the towering Goliath paladin, the twin artificers Bang and War, Ralph the chaotic orc cleric, the nimble kobold Simbiscuit, and the momentarily powered-down warforged W00t—caught their breath. The shattered remains of the explosive-toting undead lay scattered below, a grim testament to the perilous night watch they had just survived.

A loud cheer erupted from the weary Maercant soldiers stationed along the barricades. Pushing his way through the celebrating guards was Jaspers, the ambitious head of mining operations. His eyes were wide with sheer disbelief at the incredible martial and magical prowess the adventurers had just displayed. Striding directly up to the towering Goliath, Jaspers snapped a crisp, respectful salute.

“Sergeant? Well today you earned your stripes, sir. We’ll be happy to keep you on the wall, leader of men. Anytime you’re within my charge, I’m happy to give you the resources that you need to get your job done.” -Jaspers

Cort, recognizing the value of a strong alliance in this hostile wilderness, immediately pressed their advantage to negotiate for reinforcements. Tasked by the fastidious, pantless accountant Aberton with venturing into the deadly interior to extricate the rogue wizard Knox, the party knew they would need all the help they could get. Jaspers, eager to support such formidable warriors, readily agreed.

He assigned them a dispatch of five South Trading Company hirelings to serve under Cort’s command: two crossbowmen, two pikemen, and a capable captain named Johan.

“Well you’ll take care of my men, I trust, more or less… Please, bring him back alive. I trust you’ll keep my men safe.” -Jaspers

The squad was a motley crew of STC conscripts. Their captain, Johan, stood at the ready, but the rest of the ranks offered a comical redundancy: three identical soldiers named Jim, Jim, and Jim, alongside a perpetually ignored, silent recruit named Doobie.

With their eclectic supplies from Veilen gathered, Cort fully outfitted in his new half-plate armor, and a fresh squad of STC soldiers at their backs, the heroes looked toward the distant volcanic caldera. They had survived their first night defending the base camp, but the treacherous journey up the river into the heart of the Lost World to hunt down Knox was only just beginning.