The Wild

The Wild

View all episodes in Mythic Cycle.

Season 4: Episode 4

In their pursuit of Knox, the party enter interior of the “Lost World.”

• Welcome to the Jungle: The party descends into the oppressive jungle caldera and backtracks to search for Bang. Along the way, they encounter Oak, a Goliath-Wood Elf druid seeking a new tribe, who joins their party.
• Fate of Doobie: The group locates the body of the hireling Doobie, who died after being dropped by a microraptor. Cort carries his body to ensure a proper cremation.
• Velociraptor Attack: Following a set of footprints to a clearing, the party finds two velociraptors eating a fresh kill. A fierce battle breaks out, and the party dispatches the dinosaurs.
• Out With A Bang: The tragic reality sets in as the party realizes the raptors were eating Bang’s remains. They discover the gnome artificer managed to take down three other raptors before dying in a blaze of glory. Wark violently mourns the loss of his twin.
• Funeral Pyre: As night falls, the party builds a pyre to cremate Bang and Doobie. They share eulogies and say their final goodbyes before resting for the night.
• Triceratops Mother: Journeying south the next day, the party hears snorting and sneaks through the foliage to spot a mother Triceratops guarding her nest of eggs. They wisely choose to back away and circumvent the beast.
• Crafting in the Wild: During a camp rest, the party uses gathered resources. Oak uses his Druidic Jungle Alchemy to craft pepper smoke, while Wark engineers explosive “thorn grenades” out of scavenged razor-vine thorns and sulfur.
• Giant Mosquito Ambush: Investigating a swampy hex, the party finds a rotting, abandoned South Trading Company camp and is ambushed by a swarm of giant mosquitoes. They quickly deduce they must destroy the stagnant pools to stop the bugs from endlessly spawning.
• Coastline Smuggler Tracks: Reaching a coastal inlet, the party discovers heavily disturbed sand and tracks, confirming that ships have been landing to smuggle tin off the island.
• Fishmen Cliffhanger: Following the smuggler tracks inland up a muddy tributary, the episode ends as the party bursts through the treeline and stumbles into a chaotic battle between a Kuo-toa fish-man warband and a horde of undead STC zombies.

Welcome to the Jungle

Leaving the frayed ropes of the Bridge of Destiny behind, the Capable Hands descended onto the floor of the caldera, instantly swallowed by the suffocating presence of the primeval jungle. The heat here was more than just a temperature; it was a profound, colossal force that seemed to strip away the very varnish of civilization. The brilliant artificer Wark, gripping his gear tightly, was driven by a frantic, singular purpose: finding his twin brother, Bang, who had plummeted into the misty canopy above.

With the towering Goliath paladin Cort serving as a stoic vanguard, the quiet orc cleric Ralph trailing behind, and the kobold ranger Sinbuiscuit sniffing out the mud alongside his loyal drake Razor, the fractured party backtracked beneath the shadows of the bridge. The surviving South Trading Company mercenaries—the eccentric Captain Johan and the identical Jims—painstakingly hauled the heavy crates, which included the temporarily disassembled parts of their warforged companion, W00t.

Searching for any sign of Bang or the doomed hireling Doobie, the party picked up a set of tracks heading north. They hacked their way through the dense, dinosaur-choked flora until the unexpected sound of a flute playing soft bird calls pierced the heavy gloom.

Bursting into a small clearing, they did not find their eccentric gnome brother. Instead, they found a towering stranger sitting on a mossy stump, meticulously inspecting the jungle floor. He was a striking anomaly—a Goliath with skin textured like tree bark, yet possessing the distinct, pointed ears of a Wood Elf. Dressed in simple clothes and bearing a sturdy oaken shield and staff, the stranger tossed a handful of gathered foliage to the mud in clear frustration.

“I cannot smoke any of these these are the unsmokable weeds. “ -Oak

The party stared in exhausted confusion. Wark stepped forward, his desperate hope rapidly dissolving into bitter disappointment as he looked up at the massive druid.

“You are not Bang you are not the person we seek we followed the wrong trail. “ -Wark

Unfazed by the sudden interruption, the stranger calmly introduced himself as Oak. He revealed that he was the last surviving member of a unique tribe that had been tragically burned to ash while he was away on a scouting mission. Now wandering the Lost World in search of a new tribe and a way to honor his people, Oak politely asked who the party was so frantically searching for. Wark described his lost twin with a heavy mix of grief and brotherly annoyance.

“He looks like me other than the fact that I’m clean and he’s not he does not know what soap is you’ll smell him before you see him. “ -Wark

Before the solemn tension of the introduction could fully settle, the perpetually odd and emotionally volatile mercenary captain, Johan, stumbled forward. Utterly unbothered by the stranger’s imposing, seven-foot frame, Johan reached up and grabbed the Goliath-Elf’s cheeks with startling, drunken affection.

“You have a very beautiful face. “ -Johan

After accepting an incredibly awkward but earnest hug from the mercenary, Oak looked over the eclectic, battered band of adventurers. Seeing their unwavering determination to brave the deadly prehistoric wilderness to reunite their fractured family, the wandering druid finally saw a glimpse of the tribe he had been searching for. Gripping his wooden staff, he nodded to Cort and Wark.

“I will join you and I believe however I can. “ -Oak

With a powerful new ally officially added to their ranks, the Capable Hands turned their sights back to the oppressive green hell, their desperate search for Bang and Doobie only just beginning.

Fate of Doobie

The primeval jungle beneath the Bridge of Destiny was a suffocating labyrinth of dense foliage and thick, humid shadows. The Capable Hands, now joined by the towering Goliath-Wood Elf druid Oak, hacked their way through the oppressive undergrowth, their eyes scanning the muddy floor for any sign of their lost friends. It was late in the morning when they finally spotted a violent disturbance in the vegetation—a deep, brutal crater smashed directly into the earth.

Lying at the center of the muddy divot was the broken body of the South Trading Company hireling, Doobie. The party gathered solemnly around the unfortunate man, who had plummeted from the dizzying heights of the caldera after being plucked from the bridge by a vicious microraptor. Surprisingly, Doobie did not look terrified in his final moments.

“Even in death he smiles, he has a little flask that he’s holding on to his chest. “ -Dungeon Master

Cort leaned down, prying the metal flask from the dead man’s stiff fingers. He took a quick sniff of the empty container, instantly recognizing the pungent smell of the mercenary captain’s personal stash.

“I knew he was drinking on the job this guy. “ -Cort

Ever the eccentric artificer, Wark calmly produced a pair of brass calipers from his pack to meticulously measure the depth of the impact crater. He noted with a morbid sense of scientific curiosity that Doobie’s thick skull had created quite an impressive dent in the jungle floor.

Nearby, the emotionally unpredictable Captain Johan stared down at his fallen subordinate. Tears welled up in the mercenary’s eyes as he mourned, yet bizarrely, he was simultaneously snacking on a handful of fiery capsicum peppers he had scavenged, crunching loudly through his grief.

“Pretty good. “ -Johannes

The group debated how to handle the remains. A burial would only attract the island’s monstrous scavengers, but gathering enough dry wood for a proper funeral pyre would consume the better part of the afternoon. Looking down at the strange little man, the newly recruited druid Oak offered a solemn, natural blessing over the body.

“Doobie you have become one with the earth and this is your final resting place in your next life may you be more than you were in this. “ -Oak

“Hard to be less. “ -Wark

Refusing to leave the man to the predators of the Lost World, the party agreed to bring him along until they could secure a safe camp for a cremation. The surviving mercenaries, the Jims, prepared to haul the body on a makeshift shield, but the giant Goliath paladin stepped forward to spare them the grueling labor.

“I will carry Doobie. “ -Cort

Hoisting the fallen hireling effortlessly over his broad, armored shoulder, Cort and the rest of the party turned their attention back to the dense, unforgiving jungle, continuing their desperate search for their true objective: the missing gnome artificer, Bang.

Velociraptor Attack

Following a set of smaller, erratic footprints southward, the Capable Hands—Cort the towering Goliath paladin, Wark the frantic artificer, Oak the newly-joined druid, Sinbuiscuit the kobold, and the remaining mercenaries—pressed cautiously through the dense, humid jungle. The thick foliage finally gave way to a small clearing, accompanied by the wet, sickening sounds of tearing flesh and low grunting.

Sending Sinbuiscuit’s loyal drake, Razor, to scout ahead, the party peered through the brush to witness a gruesome sight: two vicious velociraptors were eagerly tearing into a fresh kill on the muddy jungle floor.

Oak acted immediately, raising his wooden staff to draw upon the primeval magic of the Lost World.

“I will command them to be still. “ -Oak

With a surge of druidic power, Oak cast Entangle, summoning thick, writhing roots from the earth that managed to violently ensnare one of the beasts. The second raptor, however, agilely snapped its jaws and leaped to the safety of a higher ridge.

Cort did not hesitate. Gripping his massive warhammer, the Goliath paladin charged the trapped dinosaur. He leaped high into the air, bringing the heavy iron down with a blinding flash of Divine Smite that echoed across the clearing with the deafening thunder of his storm god, Baic. Simultaneously, Sinbuiscuit unleashed a volley of flaming bolts from his hand crossbows, marking the free raptor for death, while Oak magically shifted his form into a massive, snarling Dire Wolf to tear into the entangled dinosaur’s scaly tail.

The South Trading Company mercenaries quickly joined the chaotic fray. Crossbow Jim took careful aim and fired a perfect shot that sailed clean through the free raptor’s neck, piercing both jugulars instantly. A massive spray of hot blood showered over the eccentric Captain Johan, who stood perfectly still, his face spattered in gore as he embraced the violence.

“This is joy. “ -Johan

Meanwhile, Wark pushed his way into the center of the clearing, his eyes locking onto the mangled body the raptors had been eating. The grisly, half-devoured remains belonged to a gnome. The awful truth washed over the party in an instant: it was his twin brother, Bang.

Overcome with a blinding mix of grief, betrayal, and unadulterated rage, Wark threw himself at the surviving, entangled raptor with total disregard for his own safety.

“I punch him in the jaw and then I just keep punching. “ -Wark

Weeping and wailing in the mud, Wark battered the terrifying predator with his bare hands, smashing its scaly face into the ground repeatedly. Driven by pure, raw vengeance, he ignited his weapon with a Green Flame Blade and brought it down in a brutal, sweeping arc, cleanly severing the dinosaur’s head from its body.

“This thing killed my brother and it needs to die. “ -Wark

As the violent skirmish ended and the heavy silence of the jungle returned, the tragic reality of the clearing fully set in. Surveying the bloodbath, the party realized that Bang had not gone down easily. The bodies of three other velociraptors lay dead in the surrounding brush. The eccentric gnome artificer had fought valiantly, taking down three apex predators in a blaze of glory while plummeting from the sky before the final two had claimed him.

Refusing to show the beasts an ounce of respect, the heartbroken Wark meticulously stripped the flesh from the raptor he had decapitated, stowing its bare skull in his bag as a grim, permanent trophy of his vengeance.

Out With A Bang

The heavy silence of the jungle returned as the violent skirmish in the clearing subsided, leaving only the ragged breathing of the Capable Hands. Wark, his heart pounding in his chest, pushed his way toward the center of the muddy battleground. His eyes locked onto the mangled, half-devoured body the velociraptors had been so eagerly tearing apart. It was small. It was a gnome.

The awful, crushing truth washed over the eccentric artificer in an instant. Amidst the scattered trinkets and blood-soaked mud lay the remains of his twin brother, Bang.

Overcome with a blinding mix of grief, betrayal, and unadulterated rage, Wark completely abandoned his usual pragmatism. With total disregard for his own safety, he threw himself at the surviving, entangled raptor, his fists clenched with raw fury.

“I punch him in the jaw and then I just keep punching. “ -Wark

Weeping and wailing in the mud, Wark battered the terrifying predator with his bare hands, repeatedly smashing its scaly face into the earth. Driven by pure, primal vengeance, he summoned the magic within him, igniting his weapon with a brilliant Green Flame Blade.

“This thing killed my brother and it needs to die. “ -Wark

With a brutal, sweeping arc, Wark brought the fiery blade down, cleanly severing the dinosaur’s head from its body.

As the frantic adrenaline faded, the rest of the party—Cort the towering Goliath paladin, Oak the newly-joined druid, Sinbuiscuit the kobold ranger, and the stunned South Trading Company mercenaries, Johan and Jim—surveyed the bloodbath. The tragic reality of the clearing fully set in, but a closer look at the brush revealed a proud truth: Bang had not gone down easily.

Strewn across the surrounding foliage lay the lifeless bodies of three other velociraptors. The eccentric gnome artificer had fought valiantly as he plummeted from the sky, unleashing his magical arsenal to take down three apex predators in a magnificent blaze of glory before the final two could claim him.

Refusing to show the beasts even an ounce of respect, the heartbroken Wark sat in the mud and meticulously stripped the flesh from the raptor he had just decapitated. He cleaned the bone with grim determination, finally stowing the massive, bare skull in his bag as a permanent, morbid trophy of his vengeance.

Funeral Pyre

The stifling heat of the late afternoon slowly yielded to the heavy, oppressive twilight of the Lost World as the Capable Hands prepared for a grim task. Burying their dead in the untamed jungle would only invite scavengers, so the party resolved to build a funeral pyre. Oak, shifting seamlessly into the form of a massive dire wolf, assisted the group in hauling thick branches and logs from the surrounding brush. It took the better part of the afternoon to dry out the soaked, humid wood, but eventually, they constructed a sizable pyre to hold the remains of both the gnome artificer Bang and the hireling Doobie.

As the sun finally dipped below the jagged rim of the caldera, the eccentric mercenary captain Johan approached the pyre, a lit torch in his hand, ready to unceremoniously burn his fallen subordinate.

“Doobie you were amusing uh bad taste really poor choices in music but alas we shall honor you in your death and I’m sure your family will get some sort of insurance policy taken out by the South Trading Company it’ll probably work out best in their favor that this happens anyway I’ll be sure to file the paperwork thank you. “ -Johan

After his bizarre, bureaucratic farewell to Doobie, Johan turned his attention to the gnome, clearing his throat to offer words for Bang. Wark, his heart still heavy with raw grief and vengeance, immediately stepped into the captain’s path, his eyes burning with a dangerous intensity.

“Sit down Johan yes you are not allowed to say anything for my brother’s funeral I will squish you. I will decapitate you if you say one more word before I say you can speak and I will point to the dinosaur that has no head. “ -Wark

Thoroughly intimidated by the mourning artificer and the grim reminder of the decapitated velociraptor, Johan quietly capped his flask, stepped back, and allowed Wark the floor. Wark looked down at the pyre, his voice tight with emotion as he delivered a heartfelt eulogy for his brilliant, chaotic twin.

“He was a good friend a great fighter he smelled funny and he was funny he was kind he loved his brother he was a good man he was the best twin brother I ever had. “ -Wark

A heavy silence fell over the gathered party—Cort the towering Goliath paladin, Oak the druid, Sinbuiscuit the kobold, and the surviving South Trading Company hirelings—as Wark reflected on the profound loss of his family and his sudden lack of purpose in this untamed hell.

“This is the only reason why I’m here now that he’s dead I can just go back to being a merchant. “ -Wark

Refusing the standard torch from the mercenaries, Wark chose to honor his brother in the most fitting way possible. He pulled out the mechanical sparker from Bang’s gear—the very same Eldritch Cannon flamethrower Bang had rigged in his final moments. With a sharp click, sparks flew, and a gout of fire roared forth, igniting the dry wood. As the flames climbed high into the prehistoric night, consuming the pyre, Wark resolved to keep his brother’s remaining gear and trinkets, planning to dismantle and rebuild them into new inventions so a piece of Bang’s genius would continue the journey with them.

Triceratops Mother

The oppressive heat of the Lost World pressed down heavily on the Capable Hands as they navigated the dense, humid terrain heading south along the muddy banks of a small tributary. Cort, the towering Goliath paladin, led the vanguard, his massive Warhammer held at the ready. Trailing behind him were Wark, still vibrating with unresolved grief and adrenaline from the raptor skirmish, Sinbuiscuit the kobold ranger, and the eccentric South Trading Company mercenaries, Johan and the Jims, who were painstakingly hauling the crates containing their deactivated warforged, W00t.

Suddenly, a heavy, rhythmic snorting echoed through the thick foliage ahead, accompanied by the dull, powerful thud of something massive pawing at the jungle floor.

Wark, ever the pragmatist with a suddenly bloodthirsty streak, immediately stepped up beside Cort, peering into the thick brush.

“This is a pig guys it’s a pig we should eat dinner. “ -Wark

Oak, the newly-joined Goliath-Wood Elf druid, raised a hand to halt the party. Deeply attuned to the primeval rhythms of the wild, he recognized that the sheer weight behind the sounds belonged to an animal far larger and more dangerous than a simple boar. Slipping silently through the giant ferns, Oak parted the leaves to scout the clearing ahead.

There, bathed in the dappled sunlight piercing the canopy, stood a colossal Triceratops. A magnificent mountain of muscle, armored scales, and three wicked horns, the beast was aggressively pawing the earth. Beneath her massive, defensive stance lay a clutch of large, leathery eggs. She was heavily agitated, her flared nostrils taking deep sniffs of the wind as she tried to triangulate the scent of the intruders encroaching on her nesting grounds.

Slipping back to the group, Oak frantically motioned for the adventurers to halt their advance and back away slowly.

Wark, whose grief had momentarily been replaced by a chaotic hunger, looked down at Sinbuiscuit in utter confusion.

“Why are we backing away from a pig it’s unnecessary to fight this I want to see can we eat a pig though. “ -Wark

Sinbuiscuit, attempting to clarify the situation through kobold logic, quickly corrected the grieving artificer about the sheer scale of the beast waiting just beyond the trees.

“It’s a large horn tricerat it’s not a pig it’s a pig with more horns it’s a horny pig horny tasty more horns the more horns the tastier it is. “ -Sinbuiscuit

Oak shook his head, urgently explaining in a hushed whisper that it was a highly territorial mother protecting her brood. A fight here would be a brutal, bloody affair that served absolutely no purpose.

Still gripping his weapon tightly and remembering the adrenaline of beating a velociraptor to death with his bare hands, Wark glared at the thick foliage.

“Can I punch it. “ -Wark

“I agree we shouldn’t bother a mother with child move around to avoid. “ -Oak

The druid gently but firmly guided the volatile artificer away from the clearing, deciding that the best course of action was to cross the tributary entirely to put the running water between them and the fiercely protective dinosaur.

“I like to talk to smaller creatures less trouble if they don’t like what we tell them. “ -Oak

With a silent nod of agreement from Cort, who had no desire to needlessly risk the lives of Johan and the surviving Jims against a prehistoric tank, the Capable Hands slipped quietly into the water. They waded across to the far bank, successfully leaving the terrifying mother to her nest and continuing their grueling march through the untamed wild.

Crafting in the Wild

The setting sun cast long, bruised purple shadows across the damp tributary as the Capable Hands found a rare moment of respite. Nestled in a relatively safe crevice near the rising mountain ranges, the party—Cort the towering Goliath paladin, Wark the grieving artificer, Oak the druid, Sinbuiscuit the kobold, and their hirelings—set up a modest camp. Jim and the other mercenaries were instructed to set up small perimeter snares to catch any wandering game, preparing to hunker down for the night.

Captain Johan, however, found his own way to unwind. Pulling a familiar metal flask from his coat, the eccentric mercenary began to eagerly guzzle its contents, seeking to drown out the horrors of the prehistoric jungle. Wark, his patience completely depleted by the day’s tragic losses, marched over and snatched the flask right out of Johan’s hands.

“You are on duty do not drink on duty show some decorum be a better example for the gyms. “ -Wark

Dumbfounded, Johan’s mouth went slack as he stared at his empty hands, his buzz instantly killed.

“You have taken my joy. “ -Johan

Leaving the pouting mercenary behind, the adventurers turned their attention to survival and preparation. Oak, deeply attuned to the flora of the Lost World, tapped into his Druidic Jungle Alchemy. Mashing together fiery capsicum pods and fibrous cinchona bark he had scavenged from the jungle, the towering Goliath-Wood Elf crafted a potent, acidic pepper-smoke bomb. Understanding the heavy emotional toll the day had taken on the surviving twin, Oak approached Wark and offered him the newly made concoction.

“I see your pain use this to seek vengeance. “ -Oak

Wark accepted the acrid smoke bomb, his eyes still dark with the memory of the velociraptors that had eaten his brother, but his voice was steady.

“My vengeance is done I’ll take it then consider it for protection. “ -Wark

Sitting by the dimming campfire, Wark sought his own form of therapy through engineering. He laid out the remaining trinkets and mechanical pieces belonging to his fallen twin, Bang, intent on keeping his brother’s chaotic genius alive. Combining Bang’s spare parts with the wicked razor-vine thorns he had carefully harvested earlier that day, Wark began to tinker. Using sulfur he scraped from the ancient volcanic rocks nearby, the brilliant artificer devised a terrifying, explosive new weapon.

“What I want to build is a fireball with those thorns… it’s like a grenade of those thorns a thorn grenade if you will. “ -Wark

By the time the jungle fell completely dark, Wark had successfully engineered three deadly razor-thorn grenades. Armed with potent natural alchemy and devastating new explosives, the Capable Hands finally rested, better prepared to face whatever prehistoric horrors awaited them the next morning.

Giant Mosquito Ambush

The oppressive heat of the Lost World only worsened as the Capable Hands sludged their way southeast into a flooded, swampy stretch of the jungle. The tributary they had been following fanned out into stagnant, oily pools of black water. Rising from the muck were the skeletal, rotting frames of an abandoned South Trading Company camp. Moldering canvas tents clung to the structures, and smashed supply crates slowly dissolved into the damp earth.

As Wark investigated the ruined camp, the stagnant pools began to bubble. Suddenly, the humid air was filled with a deafening, metallic whine. A dark cloud of giant mosquitoes—winged horrors the size of small birds—erupted from the greasy black water in a sudden, violent frenzy!

The ambush was terrifying not in its brute strength, but in its relentless numbers. The giant insects swarmed the party, inflicting painful, irritating stings in a miserable death by a thousand cuts. The massive Goliath paladin, Cort, waded into the thick of the swarm, swinging his heavy Warhammer. At first, his weapon merely splashed uselessly into the water, but soon he found his rhythm, battering the massive bugs out of the sky as their ichor coated his armor.

“I’ve just been thoughtfully going just smash smash smash. “ -Cort

Nearby, the kobold ranger Sinbuiscuit desperately tried to fend off the bloodsuckers with his hand crossbows, while his loyal drake, Razor, snapped its jaws to catch the bugs mid-flight. Overwhelmed by the biting swarm, the kobold shrieked as they descended upon his scales.

“Ow ow ow quit it quit it leave me alone quit it. “ -Sinbuiscuit

The brilliant artificer Wark quickly deduced the terrifying reality of the skirmish: the mosquitoes were endlessly spawning from the stagnant pools of water. To win, they had to destroy the source! Wark unleashed the fiery fifteen-foot cone of his fallen brother’s Eldritch Cannon to scorch the closest pool. Then, ignoring the danger, he leaped toward another winged horror, igniting his weapon with a Green Flame Blade. He cleaved the giant mosquito completely in twain, and the emerald fire leaped from the severed bug directly into a nearby pool, evaporating the murky water instantly.

Seeing the artificer’s success, the newly-joined druid Oak summoned a blazing sword of pure fire into his hands. Striding purposefully toward the nearest festering puddle, the imposing Goliath-Elf raised his fiery blade.

“I’m going to attack the darkness. “ -Oak

Oak plunged the flaming sword directly into the water. Steam and vapor violently exploded outward as the pool boiled away, instantly incinerating the mosquito larvae within.

“I feel no sadness. “ -Oak

With coordinated strikes, explosive magical fire, and brute force, the Capable Hands systematically destroyed the remaining pools and swatted the last of the giant bugs from the sky. As the metallic whining finally ceased and quiet returned to the swamp, Oak curiously picked up one of the fried insect carcasses, letting his primal survival instincts take over.

“I’m actually going to take a bite and just see how it tastes. “ -Oak

Chewing thoughtfully, the druid grimaced, noting it tasted mostly like his own cooked blood. Wiping the mosquito guts from their gear, the exhausted party left the ruined camp behind and continued their grueling trek toward the island’s coastline, vigilant for whatever the Lost World would throw at them next.

Coastline Smuggler Tracks

Leaving the ruined, mosquito-infested remains of the South Trading Company camp behind, the Capable Hands decided to divide their efforts. Knowing the critical importance of resource management in the unforgiving caldera, they left the eccentric mercenary Captain Johan and the surviving Jims behind at the camp to set snares and forage for food. Cort the towering Goliath paladin, Wark the brilliant artificer, Oak the newly-joined druid, and Sinbuiscuit the kobold ranger with his loyal drake Razor, pressed onward toward the coast.

Slogging southeast through the thinning, swampy tributary, the oppressive green canopy finally broke. The dense jungle gave way to the roaring, churning expanse of the ocean as the party stepped out onto the coastline of the Lost World. To their right, the shoreline aggressively rose into an impassable, jagged stretch of rocks. To their left, a wide, sweeping sandy beach stretched out, curving into a natural, sheltered inlet.

Oak, familiar with the treacherous waters of the island from his own recent arrival, immediately recognized the inlet’s tactical value. It was a perfect, hidden sound for a ship to drop anchor unseen. Walking out onto the wet sand, the towering Goliath-Elf druid knelt to inspect the ground, his sharp eyes picking out a chaotic mess of overlapping footprints and deep grooves dragged through the shoreline.

“There’s more than just us use the same area… there’s even more tracks not from my ship. Looks like this area has been used. “ -Oak

The grim reality settled over the party. The heavily disturbed sand was undeniable proof that other ships were actively making secret landings here, moving heavy crates of raw tin off the island in a massive, illicit smuggling operation orchestrated by the rogue wizard Knox.

Wark, ever the pragmatic merchant, stared at the trampled beach, calculating the sheer scale of the stolen company profits slipping through their fingers.

“Strange there’s a lot of miner trafficking yes don’t love that nope it’s bad bad for business. “ -Wark

Realizing that following the coastline further west into the sheer cliffs was impossible, and that any smugglers returning to their ships would have to pass through the inland routes, the party knew their only option was to find where the tin was originating.

“All right let’s go back. “ -Wark

Turning their backs on the crashing waves and the open sky, the Capable Hands plunged back into the dark, sweltering heart of the jungle. They were determined to backtrack up the muddy tributary and follow the smuggler tracks directly to the source of the corruption.

Fishmen Cliffhanger

Backtracking up the muddy tributary and leaving the crashing waves of the ocean behind, the Capable Hands pushed deeper into the oppressive, sweltering heart of the Lost World. Cort, the towering Goliath paladin, led the vanguard, followed closely by Wark, the brilliant but grieving artificer, Oak, the towering druid, and Simbiscuit, the kobold ranger with his loyal drake, Razor. Having wisely left Captain Johan and the mercenaries safely behind at the camp to forage, the streamlined party followed the heavily disturbed smuggler tracks northwest, their boots sinking deep into the wet earth.

As they trudged further inland, an unnerving change washed over the environment. The relentless, deafening hum of prehistoric insects and the constant chatter of the wild abruptly ceased. The jungle went dead quiet, save for the wet, heavy squelch of their own footsteps in the mud.

Creeping through the dense foliage to investigate the eerie silence, the party pushed past a thick wall of massive ferns and burst out into a terrifying spectacle. Before them, the muddy trail had been transformed into a chaotic, nightmarish bloodbath.

A brutal skirmish was already raging between two terrifying forces. On one side stood a warband of Kuo-toa—bulbous-eyed, slimy fish-men who croaked madly as they hurled heavy, weighted nets over their enemies. Facing them was a shambling, horrifying horde of the walking dead. They were reanimated South Trading Company miners, their rotting bodies still clad in tattered company uniforms and coated in pale, chalky tin dust.

The Capable Hands watched in stunned horror as the horrific clash of order and chaos unfolded. One of the mindless STC zombies lunged blindly forward, only to be expertly caught by the neck and pinned by a fish-man wielding a long, specialized pincer staff. Nearby, another bloated, undead fist squelched violently into a Kuo-toa’s shield, unable to pull away from the sticky, shimmering goo that thickly coated the wood.

Faced with the sudden, overwhelming threat of both the island’s fanatical amphibious natives and the rogue wizard Knox’s undead laborers, the eccentric artificer Wark gripped his magical arsenal. Staring down the massive horde blocking their path, he instinctively declared the only logical solution to the nightmare unfolding before them.

“I cast fireball. “ -Wark