The lost city

The romanticism of a lost city is too tempting for you. So what if you failed the last time you tried to find it? That just means you'll know where not to look this time!

You head north towards the mountains, a series of cruel peaks that cut into the skyline like a series of shark's teeth. It's cold there, but you prepare by purchasing some warm woolen clothes and furs at a village. Then you make your way to a town at the foot of one of the mountains, which you visited the last time you came searching.

"Hello Dmiras," you say, stepping into the small library. The old man sitting behind the desk starts up at the sight of you.

"Well, well," he says, "if it isn't Sir John! I'm surprised you've had the courage to return!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's supposed to mean that the mayor's still angry since he caught you in bed with his daughter, and that the blacksmith's still angry since he caught you in bed with his wife, and that the priest's still angry since he caught you banging the both of them in the temple, and-"

"I get the picture. But at least you're happy to see me, eh Dmiras?"

"I wouldn't put it quite like that, but no matter. I suppose you're here to have another go at finding Arok Carr, hmm?"

"That's right. Can you tell me anything new?"

Dmiras is the foremost expert in the world on the lost city, having even moved to this town because it's near the reputed location of the place. "Well," he says, "I've been doing some thinking, and I looked over the scrolls again. Do you know, I think we were barking up the wrong tree trying to go over the mountains. I think you want to go under it instead."

"Under it?" you say. "How the hell does that work?"

"I found a parchment that says 'Only the wise man, who can walk the path through darkness and looks to the right, can find the way to Akor Carr'. Hence, I think, a tunnel."

"I don't suppose you know where this tunnel might be, do you?" you say hopefully.

Dmiras grins and, walking to a map that hangs on the wall, triumphantly pokes his finger at a particular spot. "Right here, if I'm correct. Ah, it's a pity John; I'd come with you to look, but I'm too old these days to brave the journey."

"Don't worry old man," you say. "I'll let you know if I find anything."

You borrow the map from Dmiras, buy the provisions you need, and set out immediately. You don't even stick around to see if the mayor's daughter or the blacksmith's wife are still interested in you; after all, it could get messy if you get caught again.