Horace was deep in conversation with a fisherman Jack recognized from the lakeside. He had been one of his first customers when he set up camp nearby.
“Yo, Jackie! I was just talking to this fine gentleman. Go ahead, tell him what you told me.”
The fisherman nodded. “Well, here I was, fishing as usual, when the ground starts shaking. Next thing I see, those folks over there,” he pointed to a group fighting an ornithopod, “were fighting off an allosaurus. You can still see where it came out of the jungle.”
“How long ago was this?” Jack asked.
“’Bout 40 minutes, I’d reckon.”
Horace grinned, tossing the fisherman a silver coin. “Thanks, old man.”
“Much appreciated,” the fisherman said, pocketing the coin.
Without missing a beat, Horace turned and started toward the broken trees the fisherman had pointed out. Jack followed, the dense green gradually swallowing them as they entered the area the allosaurus had rampaged through. The air felt heavier here. Shattered branches and deep footprints littered the ground, while fresh sap oozed from the gouges in the trees.
The terrain ahead had started to reset. It was healing unnaturally fast—new growth already sprouted where the allosaurus had stormed through, but the process was slow enough that traces of the creature’s wrath still lingered.
“Give it a few more minutes, and even these footprints will be gone,” Jack muttered, watching as small shoots of greenery crept over the ruined path.
“Then we’d better move fast. We need to figure out where the allosaurus is headed.” Horace stepped forward, eyes scanning the scattered debris. “Let’s go.”
As they pressed deeper into the forest, the remnants of the fight began to fade, swallowed by the jungle. The path was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the soft crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional creak of a branch.
Jack’s eyes darted around the shifting shadows. “So, what now?”
“There are a few possible scenarios. One, Papa Allosaurus was out hunting, leaving the baby with Mama Allosaurus. If that’s the case, we’ll have to lure her out before we can get anywhere near the nest.”
“Great,” Jack muttered. “And the other scenarios?”
“We might get lucky and find only the baby, but we’ll have to hope it hasn’t grown too big to handle.”
Jack swallowed hard, realizing how thin their plan was.
Horace chuckled darkly. “It’s the beauty of New World quests, Jack. You never know what you’re gonna get. We’ll adapt on the fly.”
Jack nodded, silently hoping Horace’s confidence was more than just bravado. “How’d you even look for leads?” Jack asked, trying to distract himself from the gnawing unease.
“Easy,” Horace shrugged. “Walked around, shouting I’d pay one silver for anyone who saw the beast. You?”
“I visited a few campsites looking for—”
Horace abruptly slapped a hand over Jack’s mouth, cutting him off mid-sentence. His other hand pointed toward the darkening tree line ahead. Jack’s pulse quickened. He couldn’t see anything, but Horace’s tense posture said it all.
Horace motioned for Jack to duck down and crawl forward. “Nest’s close. You smell that?”
At first, Jack couldn’t tell, but then it hit him—a faint, sickly odor of rot, carried on the breeze. His stomach twisted. The smell was getting stronger.
“What do we do?” Jack whispered, his voice barely audible.
“You check it out,” Horace whispered back.
Jack’s eyes widened. “Me?”
“You’re practically a walking bush in that getup,” Horace pointed at Jack’s earthy camouflage. “Besides, you’re quieter. You’re perfect for the job.”
Jack grimaced. Horace, with his broad frame and clanking armor, would be about as subtle as a boulder crashing through the underbrush. Jack, on the other hand, was lighter, quieter—but still far from thrilled about sneaking up on an allosaurus nest.
“Fine,” Jack muttered, slumping his shoulders in defeat.
Horace flashed him a grin. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get back in one piece.”
But there was a tremble in Horace’s voice that betrayed his nerves, and Jack shot him a glare. Part of him wanted to call out, make enough noise to draw the beast’s attention and give Horace a taste of fear. But instead, he sighed and accepted his fate.
He felt a little ridiculous carrying out the stealth mission with the pot hive strapped to his back. It was almost as large as he was. He put it down under a nearby tree before setting out.
Creeping forward, Jack felt every muscle tense with each step. The sickly sweet smell of decay grew thicker, almost tangible in the air now, clinging to the back of his throat. His heart pounded in his ears as the nest came into view, a massive crater-like clearing in the forest floor, surrounded by broken trees and scattered bones. He dropped to his belly, crawling the last few feet, careful to stay low as he peered over a fallen log.
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The nest was little more than a deep hole in the ground, surrounded by trampled vegetation. Inside, a small allosaurus was hunched over the carcass of an ornithopod. It tore into the carcass, pulling strips of meat with its sharp teeth while its mother watched protectively from nearby.
Jack blinked, finding it hard to reconcile the sight before him with the brutal, relentless predators he’d seen battling players countless times. There was something disarming about how the parent allosaurus watched over her young.
So, it’s the first scenario—a baby and its mother.
Jack scanned the surrounding terrain, making mental notes about the layout: the steep ridges, the dense foliage, the potential hiding spots. But before he could get too caught up in his thoughts, he silently cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner—he could just record the scene. He quickly started a video, focusing on the terrain surrounding the nest.
Suddenly, the allosaurus pup lifted its head, sniffing the air. Jack froze, his heart skipping a beat. Maybe it had caught his scent. The baby’s nostrils flared, its gaze sweeping the area, but the mother didn’t seem to react. Still, Jack knew this was his cue to leave, before he ended up as dessert.
He crawled back toward his pot hive, keeping low, his pulse racing with every rustle of leaves. His eyes darted constantly over his shoulder, half expecting the mother allosaurus to charge out of the trees at any moment. But to his relief, the only sounds were the distant tremors of her moving away. Maybe she had gone hunting, or perhaps simply wandering off to do whatever it is allosaurs do when they’re not guarding their nests.
When Jack returned to where he’d parted with Horace, he found him trying to hide. In the short time he’d been gone, Horace had managed to arm himself with a couple of small branches, holding them awkwardly in front of him like some sort of makeshift camouflage. Jack couldn’t help but smirk. Jack wondered whether the branches provided a placebo crutch or whether they actually boosted Horace’s stealth.
“So, how’d it go?” Horace asked, keeping his voice low but eager.
“There’s one adult in the nest—probably the mother—and she’s feeding her young,” Jack said, handing over his video feed. “I got footage of the whole thing.”
Horace watched the clip, nodding. “Yep, that’s the mother. Good news for us—two parents would’ve been a nightmare. This way, we only need to deal with one. One of us will distract her, and the other grabs the infant.”
Jack arched an eyebrow. “How are you so sure that’s the mother?”
Horace shrugged, clearly uninterested in explaining his reasoning. “It’s just a guess, but a good one. Now, let’s talk next steps. We need to find some good terrain to lay a trap, preferably downwind.”
Jack’s suspicion grew. “And who’s going to be the distraction?”
Horace gave him a sly grin but didn’t answer directly. “We’ll see when the time comes, buddy. Right now, focus on the preparations. You set up camp and make sure we’ve got all the buffs we need. Once that’s done, we’ll figure out the rest.”
Jack could tell that Horace had already made up his mind, even if he wasn’t saying it. He sighed, trailing behind as Horace marched off, shovel in hand. Whatever the plan was, Jack knew exactly who’d be the bait.
*
You’ve played [Angry Void]
Success rate: B
+100 bard XP
Audience bonus: +50 bard XP
Two wolves snarled at the edge of the fire's glow. They’d been drawn by Jack’s new song, Angry Void. Their glowing eyes shifted between Jack’s ocarina and the fire that kept them at bay.
With two test subjects right in front of him, Jack started playing [Sonic Valley]. The tune spiraled through a series of eerie, dissonant arpeggios. The wolves, as though caught in the song’s pull, swayed slightly, their snarls fading as their movements became sluggish. As Jack neared the midpoint of the song, he stumbled, hitting several wrong notes. The wolves snapped out of their confusion, startled by the sound. With a growl of panic, they turned and bolted.
Jack groaned, lowering the ocarina. "Oh man, I keep messing up this part."
Shaking his head, he began to slowly practice the tricky section. The hardest part of [Sonic Valley], like [Angry Void], lay in its strange intervals. It wasn’t a melody that came naturally—it was designed to throw the listener off, requiring precise fingering on the ocarina. For one note that was half-a-step sharp, Jack had to cover a hole only partially, which took immense control. One little movement and the whole song fell apart.
A rustling in a nearby bush sent a jolt of tension through Jack. He straightened up, thinking that the wolves had returned. The tension ebbed away when Horace emerged, muddy and disheveled, with a shovel slung over his shoulder.
With a grunt, Horace collapsed next to the fire. Jack moved toward the pot, already filled with water. "You look half-dead," Jack said, smirking.
“Feels like it,” Horace muttered, stretching out with a sigh. "The trap’s set, at least. What about you?"
Jack gestured toward a small pile of clay spheres set carefully away from the fire, along with the ingredients he’d gathered for their next meal. "I’m all set too."
Horace stared into the flames, his expression tight, eyes far off. “Good. We’ll need every advantage we can get."
Nodding, Jack set about preparing the stew. He grabbed the [Grass Fruit], [Snow Dandelion], and [Sparkberry] and hesitated. It had taken him hours to locate the ingredients in Ariadne’s recipe. Each and every one of them was uncommon. Still, they needed the buff, so he threw them into the boiling water. The smell was fresh but slightly tangy.
Congratulations! You’ve crafted [Survival Stew].
[Camping] has strengthened your meal.
+430 bushcraft XP
Survival Stew (Common)
Crafting grade: B
Ingredients: [Grass Fruit], [Snow Dandelion], [Sparkberry]
Item description: A nutritious, tasty meal crafted from wild ingredients.
Item effects:
+3 stamina per second for 10 minutes.
+3 HP per second for 10 minutes.
Survival buff: Prevents stamina and health loss for 15 minutes after leaving camp. Buff wears off upon entering combat.
Spark of Stamina: +50 stamina for 1 hour.
Breezy Step: +10% movement speed for 20 minutes.
Durability: 3
The stew was perfect for their needs—nothing fancy, but it would help him run faster and longer. Jack filled two bowls, handing one to Horace.
“Here. I also whipped up these.” Jack tossed a set of cloth patches to Horace. “Ran over to Erwind and used all my bushcraft XP to learn the recipe. They’ll give you a bit of a speed boost. It’s not much, but better than nothing."
Horace accepted them, though his usual bravado seemed lacking. “Thanks, Jack.”
Jack didn’t miss the hesitation in his friend’s voice. Normally, Horace would be cracking jokes or bragging about their chances. Instead, his words felt hollow, as though he was trying to convince himself.
Jack raised an eyebrow. “You scared?”
Horace straightened up defensively. “What? No! I’m just… trembling with excitement! Thinking about all the loot we’re about to get from this quest.” He forced a laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Jack chuckled and held out his hand. “Right. Loot. Well, let’s get this over with.”
Horace grabbed his hand, shaking it firmly. “Yeah, let’s go, Jack. We’ve got this.”