Jul 31, 2025 4:42 am
Chapter 5: What the Jungle Hides
Much has transpired since Regan and Admiral—unlikely allies—first banded together.
They repelled Donatello the Black and his undead crew, then steered a fey lantern-lit skiff up the Menehune, where half-drowned ruins whispered Makai secrets. Fey children begged them to free Aldran the fossergrim from a sea hag’s grip; in that hunt they discovered a Makai grimoire of hellglass prisons—and an imp sealed within one such orb, hissing half-truths. With Lelay’s amulet Cordey cleansed a mirror’s curse. Then the three charged the hag’s 'great hall'. Admiral fell, Reaver slipped away, and Cordey—grasping the blade—let it devour the hag’s soul to revive the rakasta.
They surfaced from the Fossergrim's Falls and the Babbling Brook into Queen Naidra’s mist. The River-Court monarch scoffed at Lady Oceana’s legacy, set them a riddling contest. Allowed time where Regan found counsel with the old fey Rookstem, who cryptically warned that fey do not choose the "least damning" path but the "prettiest fire," while Admiral, with Cordey, swam back to the falls and the freed fossergrim to inquire about how to best the Queen in the fey challenge. They learn about Nai Nai’s history. Then, armed with knowledge, Admiral and Regan best the Queen and her nobles after Regan turned the demon cursed-mirror on the fey lords, trapping all but the Queen and Lord Etrivel, therefore winning the fey game.
Allowed to pass, they then wisely skirted a lakeside fey revel, abandoned their skiff to travel by foot, and ambushed a boggle procession to rescue a captive boy, along with Khyree and Rowan. Exhausted, they reached a mysterious stone slab—only to be assailed by synchronized packs of eel-hounds. Regan stood while comrades fell; Admiral darted through the jungle canopy, slew the controlling boggle, yet the child died in the melee. Then the slab’s ancient Makai mists rose, whipped into a cyclone that hurled the hounds to their deaths.
Paying Reaver’s steep price, Admiral poured its necrotic power into the boy and dragged him back to life.
Naidra returned with the storm’s calm, thanking for the warning regarding her grandson, and bearing news and veiled envy. She revealed that only Jin’s lantern, by his invitation, can lead the way to the Moonroot Nexus—Lady Oceana’s charge. And then came her warning: beware Lord Etrivel, who would twist all things including the Nexus to his will if given the chance.
...
Now recharged, with the slab behind, the company cuts through the dense jungle toward the ancient Makai temple...
The trek from the slab to the temple should have taken only minutes, yet the cyclone left a mess of obstacles behind.
Splintered trunks lie in tangled heaps; palms uprooted by the wind now bridge ripped ravines. Shattered stone from the ledge litters the ground like dark hail, some pieces marked with the bloody, slick scales of eel-hounds that were slammed into trunks hard enough to leave grisly smears. Where those bodies fell intact, they lie contorted and silent, eyes dulled, tails half-coiled, as if the storm simply plucked the life from them and dropped the husks behind.
Mist clings low, curling around ankles and pooling in the hollows torn by falling limbs. Every few yards the party must hack through a fresh snarl of vines or clamber over a downed tree whose branches still twitch with settling insects. New day light pokes gently through ragged holes in the canopy, illuminating the path in stuttering intervals.
Admiral leads, slinking between trunks. Rowan, face streaked with dried tears, walks beside him carrying the sleeping boy. Cordey fingers his amulet and occasionally mutters Makai words. Jin keeps a wary eye on the jungle while Tasya steadies Mischa over the slick roots. Taresh moves again with his typical focused grace. Regan keenly guards the rear, armor dented but polished clean by Naidra’s healing mist.
The first hint of Makai masonry appears through the jungle undergrowth as moss-covered flagstones half-buried in soil. Soon after, through a break in the foliage, the tiered façade of the temple emerges: time-worn steps climbing to a weather-stained ziggurat, flanked by toppled walls and strangler-rooted ruins. Mist curls across the circular courtyard in front, tracing the labyrinthine carvings etched into the ancient paving.
Much has transpired since Regan and Admiral—unlikely allies—first banded together.
They repelled Donatello the Black and his undead crew, then steered a fey lantern-lit skiff up the Menehune, where half-drowned ruins whispered Makai secrets. Fey children begged them to free Aldran the fossergrim from a sea hag’s grip; in that hunt they discovered a Makai grimoire of hellglass prisons—and an imp sealed within one such orb, hissing half-truths. With Lelay’s amulet Cordey cleansed a mirror’s curse. Then the three charged the hag’s 'great hall'. Admiral fell, Reaver slipped away, and Cordey—grasping the blade—let it devour the hag’s soul to revive the rakasta.
They surfaced from the Fossergrim's Falls and the Babbling Brook into Queen Naidra’s mist. The River-Court monarch scoffed at Lady Oceana’s legacy, set them a riddling contest. Allowed time where Regan found counsel with the old fey Rookstem, who cryptically warned that fey do not choose the "least damning" path but the "prettiest fire," while Admiral, with Cordey, swam back to the falls and the freed fossergrim to inquire about how to best the Queen in the fey challenge. They learn about Nai Nai’s history. Then, armed with knowledge, Admiral and Regan best the Queen and her nobles after Regan turned the demon cursed-mirror on the fey lords, trapping all but the Queen and Lord Etrivel, therefore winning the fey game.
Allowed to pass, they then wisely skirted a lakeside fey revel, abandoned their skiff to travel by foot, and ambushed a boggle procession to rescue a captive boy, along with Khyree and Rowan. Exhausted, they reached a mysterious stone slab—only to be assailed by synchronized packs of eel-hounds. Regan stood while comrades fell; Admiral darted through the jungle canopy, slew the controlling boggle, yet the child died in the melee. Then the slab’s ancient Makai mists rose, whipped into a cyclone that hurled the hounds to their deaths.
Paying Reaver’s steep price, Admiral poured its necrotic power into the boy and dragged him back to life.
Naidra returned with the storm’s calm, thanking for the warning regarding her grandson, and bearing news and veiled envy. She revealed that only Jin’s lantern, by his invitation, can lead the way to the Moonroot Nexus—Lady Oceana’s charge. And then came her warning: beware Lord Etrivel, who would twist all things including the Nexus to his will if given the chance.
...
Now recharged, with the slab behind, the company cuts through the dense jungle toward the ancient Makai temple...
The trek from the slab to the temple should have taken only minutes, yet the cyclone left a mess of obstacles behind.
Splintered trunks lie in tangled heaps; palms uprooted by the wind now bridge ripped ravines. Shattered stone from the ledge litters the ground like dark hail, some pieces marked with the bloody, slick scales of eel-hounds that were slammed into trunks hard enough to leave grisly smears. Where those bodies fell intact, they lie contorted and silent, eyes dulled, tails half-coiled, as if the storm simply plucked the life from them and dropped the husks behind.
Mist clings low, curling around ankles and pooling in the hollows torn by falling limbs. Every few yards the party must hack through a fresh snarl of vines or clamber over a downed tree whose branches still twitch with settling insects. New day light pokes gently through ragged holes in the canopy, illuminating the path in stuttering intervals.
Admiral leads, slinking between trunks. Rowan, face streaked with dried tears, walks beside him carrying the sleeping boy. Cordey fingers his amulet and occasionally mutters Makai words. Jin keeps a wary eye on the jungle while Tasya steadies Mischa over the slick roots. Taresh moves again with his typical focused grace. Regan keenly guards the rear, armor dented but polished clean by Naidra’s healing mist.
The first hint of Makai masonry appears through the jungle undergrowth as moss-covered flagstones half-buried in soil. Soon after, through a break in the foliage, the tiered façade of the temple emerges: time-worn steps climbing to a weather-stained ziggurat, flanked by toppled walls and strangler-rooted ruins. Mist curls across the circular courtyard in front, tracing the labyrinthine carvings etched into the ancient paving.
