Why there are no rich men in Lustria

The steam rose heavily from the jungle floor as Revanche hacked his way through the endless vegetation. "Which way now?" He called to his guide. It was impossible to see past several feet as he could just make out his companions through the morning mists. Viscount Guy Revanche; minor nobleman, treasure hunter, scalawag. Late of the Bretonnian city of Quenelles, who upon hearing of the fabulous treasures of Lustria decided to try his infamous luck against the jungle. And the jungle was winning. Revanche could not recall being so miserable, even when humiliated into spending a night in the dank confines of Parravon’s debtor’s prison, he could at least look forward to escaping the next day into the sunlight. Here, he was not so certain.

His journey had began by taking a ship from Brionne to the Araby port of El-Abid. Once towards nightfall, after just skirting the Shifting Isles of Ulthuan to the west, the crew thought they spotted one of the Black Arks of Naggaroth in the path of the sinking sun. Giving it a wide berth, the ship saw no further adventure. After arriving in Araby, Revanche and his companions, what were left of his old drinking buddies from Quenelles that is, hired a ship for Lustria. Other than a mild storm that blew up from the south, the trip was only long and uneventful.

The shore ward village of Malpelo had been claimed from the jungle years ago by adventurous fools who thought to turn Lustria into a major trading land. Now only a few pirates, traders and various natives from inland visited its docks. When Revanche arrived the thing that struck him first was the apparent poverty of the place. If Lustria contained the fabulous riches that many claimed, then why none of the trappings of wealth? He shrugged it off as timidity or laziness that kept the villagers from finding inland wealth and continued to seek porters for his small band.

The second thing that struck him was the large statue found on the jungle side of the village. Obviously erected by the townspeople, it was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen. At the top of four ten foot columns was a platform, and plopped upon it was what looked to be a huge, fat toad. The toad was crowned with a feathered headdress and wore a fierce look on its rotund face. Revanche laughed out loud at the sight and shook his head in wonder at the dark gods some races worshipped.

The first day into the jungle the party made decent time with no mishaps. However, mid-morning of the second day the trouble began. After traveling along a copse of banana trees for most of the morning, Revanche’s party suddenly came up on a large pole, as if to indicate boundaries within the trackless jungle. Clearing away the leaves exposed the object, a totem of some sort, topped by the head of a large reptile. The porters, those made up of the natives of the area at least, screamed in terror and before Revanche could react had dropped their loads and tore off towards the safety of the village far to the east. His guide explained that it was useless to go after them. The natives believed the totem represented the boundaries of the reptile gods that they worshipped, and they would go no farther. He suggested (hopefully) that Revanche may wish to consider abandoning his search for gold in the fabled cities of the jungle. The viscount scoffed and taking what they could, the party continued on into the leafy darkness.

Several more days of traveling had brought them to where they were now. The morning after the day the natives had ran off they found two more porters gone, along with nearly a third of their water supply. That evening one of his companions, a young gambler from Altdorf named Einrich something, had wandered off for some unknown reason and ended up drowning in quicksand. A poisonous snake had finished off another shortly after. His group was dwindling, and his luck was running out. But Revanche sensed one way or another his journey was ending. Just this morning after crossing a wide river, he had stood on a small hill which rose above much of the lower jungle. In the distant southwest he spotted what at first looked to be just another hill, but taller than the one he stood on. Closer inspection with his glass showed that it was not a hill, but rather a structure of some sort. It looked at this distance to be made of stone, a stepped pyramid rising from the steamy clutches of the jungle floor. Here Revanche knew, was his destination.

A mid-day break found the party in good spirits. All morning the vegetation had been thinning and now they found themselves in a small clearing. They felt for sure they were nearly under the shadow of the huge monolith. Suddenly a scream cut the morning. Turning Revanche saw the feathered shaft of an arrow protruding from the shoulder of Michel, one of his closest fellows. Drawing his sword, Revanche could have swore he saw small blue creatures scurry by in the jungle. As Revanche tended to his friend the other members formed a defensive circle around the clearing.

Although the wound was clean and superficial, the victim screamed in agony. "It burns, it burns"! Paling, Revanche realized the point must be poisoned. With a final gurgling cry Michel succumbed to the poison. More arrows whizzed by, and the guide and another had fallen. "Fall back to the river"! Cried Revanche.

Running headlong into the jungle, Revanche could hear the others running all around. He knew there was little he could do to aid them, but figured if they could get across the river a defensive line could be formed. Suddenly with relief Revanche crashed onto the bank of the river they had crossed only this morning. Coming to his feet he noticed what at first appeared to be a huge statue, with a head similar to that which topped the totem found near the beginning of their journey into the jungle. Slowly the statue came to life, revealing a gaping maw of sharp teeth, the beast raised a giant war club above its head. And Guy Revanche now knew why there were no rich men living on the shores of Lustria.