The third time they came to the little village, they knew something was wrong. It’s easy to get lost in the endless forests, especially without any navigation equipment (Warns auspex now only makes grinding noises, and only manages a weak red blip in irregular patterns), and circling back once could happen easily. But twice? After the fifth time, there was no doubt. This is no natural phenomena.
This little village deep in the forests, on the edge of a large, open swamp. Just a small collection of primitive wooden huts, arranged in a crescent-shaped cluster embracing a small open space next to the swamp. A few open boats drawn up on land, no signs of modern technology. Abandoned, seemingly in sudden haste, as tools were scattered around and half-eaten food was still on the tables. Long rotted, and covered with mould, but still: food! Fire dealt with the mould, and the burnt, crispy remains were delicious. The following bouts of sickness were less enjoyable.
But it seems as if no matter which direction you head off in, you always come back. But it’s more than just paths winding around and back, this is certified “Weird Stuff”. Havelas opens his minds eye, and tells of the fabric of reality being twisted. It’s like you’re trapped in a bowl.
A bowl where the world is drained into a vortex, hidden somewhere beneath the village.
A focused search reveals hidden trap-doors in many of the huts and houses, revealing a small network of dark, earthen tunnels beneath the village. The air smells musty and cool, and you hear the distant rhythms of drums from deep beneath the ground.
It seems as if the only way out… is down.