The sun rises over the Belomisian forest, and I carefully store my archaeology tools back in their box. Waiting for the morning, unable to sleep, I was working on cleaning and authenticating an old vase, and I was delighted to uncover the incredible shine of the rarest omiscan treasures below the layer of dirt. I take this as a great omen of the day to go, and I have a spring in my step as I walk to the first Gate of the jungle.

The weather is still a little cold, but hacking at the lianas never fails to warm an archaeologist up. They fall apart fast, and I start my trek in the jungle.

And then I hear a scream. It’s a fellow explorer, one I’ve never seen in the forest before. She looks quite young, and distraught, at the bag that’s slowly sinking in the pit of quicksand at her feet. It could be worse, it could be her in there.

Hit by inspiration, I produce a Guzmania Pollenis flower out of my own bag, slip it through the handle, and pull. The stalk holds and I salvage the bag — success! My fellow archaeologist pulls an ivory and emerald omiscan knife out of it and, thanking me profusely, sticks it in my hand. I give her advice about spotting quicksand and go on my way.

It seems I was right about the day being lucky! Before noon I find a chest and out of it, I dig some rare treasures of my own.

A wooden relic, and a Cetlcitli calendar plate. I secure both into my bag and keep going, straight to the temple, a smile on my face and every one of the worries that haunted me at home, entirely forgotten.