Having successfully gotten their attention, the Mayor dumped a seemingly impossible amount of information on them. The sketch-pad on the Mayor’s easel turned out to be entirely full of “hidden dangers”: way too many poisonous or swarming insects and their hives; snakes of what felt like every color; a gruesome array of things that would burrow into you if you didn’t carefully prepare where you slept; jam-packed pages of pictures of poisonous plants; water-based ambush predators galore; a frightening assortment of deadly vines, trees and other plants; and, for good measure, a handful of things that liked to jump down on you from the trees.

It was clear to Arn that the Mayor’s approach was carefully crafted to make it wholly impossible to ignore certain lessons. For example, although he never said so, the Mayor clearly didn’t intend for them to remember every picture of every poisonous plant – rather, he used the pictures, along with way-too-graphic descriptions of hideous burn-like rashes and oozing flesh, to reinforce the message to not touch any plant you didn’t recognize. Similarly, the single page of drawings of deadly jungle fruits was crammed so tightly that they were hard to see, much less remember, but after the Mayor was done describing a type of parasite that burrows out of a victim’s eyes, the group would gladly starve to death rather than eat anything but the small handful of things the Mayor mentioned he would cover later.

Along the way, the Mayor frequently told them to buy such and such “from Silver Tongue,” including just enough information that that not doing so was completely unthinkable. For example, after discussing the parade of insect-horrors, the Mayor casually said, “don’t try to cheap out of buying Silver Tongue’s medical kit unless you want to dig things out of each other’s flesh with your daggers. The tools in the kit might be all that keeps you sane.”

Arn’s determination to absorb everything the Mayor said ran into a few snags. For example, when one of the Mayor’s comments made Arn realize that his somewhat baggy traveling leathers (bought before his body type changed), were an open invitation to flesh burrowers, he started to panic about his limited funds. Suddenly, the Mayor was in Arn’s face. “I’ve had people vomit and I’ve had people run, but I can’t remember a day-dreamer. You some kind of idiot?” Arn stuttered, “uh sorry sir, was just wondering if I could save money by testing out whether my class-given regeneration will dissolve burrowing insects. You wouldn’t happen to know where I could get some burrowers in town would you?” The Mayor looked to the heavens and said, “Maisy, I’m trying, I really am. I don’t want to let you down. But maybe it’d be kinder if I just killed some of em, starting with this big bastard. Just this once?” The Mayor looked back at Arn and explained, “ain’t no kind of healing that does that. You think your going to dissolve an arrow in the gut too, or maybe you have some special insect-only skill? Look Arn, if you had all the brains in the world – which clearly you don’t – you’d still make fatal mistakes if you second-guess what you need. Just empty your damn purse on Silver Tongue’s counter and buy whatever-the-Hells he tells you too. He ain’t a saint, but he won’t sell you crap you don’t need. The stuff he sells you now costs a fraction of what he hopes to sell you next time. Wants you to trust him, you see?”

The Mayor turned back to the group. “You are all still here. Stupid brave like the rest. Well, the jungle is one thing, but I’m not without mercy. I can hear the big bastard’s stomach rumbling from here, and I need to take a piss. We’ll take a 30-minute break, but first, the most important damn thing I’m going to tell you. Alys, the map please.” Alys grabbed a thin tube, unrolled a square map over two feet long per side, and secured it to the easel.

The Mayor nodded to Alys and resumed, “Silver Tongue sells this for 55 silver. Most expensive damn map I’ve ever seen, but it won’t rip and won’t tear. Has a better chance of surviving than you do. We’ve recovered like-new maps off skeletons. Alright, well the bright blue area back here is called the Ever-Swamp, they say it’s the gateway to the Heart of the Jungle. You can see the bright blue glow for miles. Well, not you all; you’d be dead long before you see it. Reason I mention it, the mana springs are somewhere in there. They say the mana is so thick that mages have killed party members casting spells while they dream. The mana gradually gets thinner the further away you are from the springs. People say all kinds of idiot things about where the forest ends and the jungle starts – the moss grows a certain way, you start to see such and such herb, but its all nonsense, the mana just gradually increases the closer you get to the Ever-Swamp and the springs. You hit the forest, and shit gets real pretty damn quick. A lot of the forest is pretty damn wet, and parts of the jungle are dry. Its all the same, one step increases your chance of dying as much as the next.”

The Mayor took a sip of ale and pointed at what must be the forest trails Arn had heard about. “Hundreds of years ago, the kingdom decided to support harvesting beast gem-hearts, herbs and what not. They buried a network of enchanted stones that absorb mana from the soil. Some mages don’t like to walk on em, but I’m told only a master can feel the difference. The stones kill the plants well enough though, and keep the paths clear. Mostly. Nothing lasts forever. Sometimes they explode, but hey, you already knew the jungle wasn’t the best place for the unlucky right? Upside of the stones being all touchy, is nobody tries to steal em, so we still have paths all these years later. You get far enough south, the mana is so thick, any stones that got placed failed long ago. So this east-west path up here, it is called The Edge of Madness, and is considered the dividing line between the forest and the jungle. Think I’ve made clear there ain’t nothing special about it, but maps need boundaries, so there it is.”

The Mayor looked away from the map and stared intently at the group. “Any of you have any brains at all, you won’t go all the way to The Edge, much less cross it. You follow the paths, pick a spot, harvest herbs, kill or run from whatever shows interest, maybe harvest a few gem hearts, and maybe get back with everyone and still earn good coin. This map isn’t perfect, only permanent stuff is marked, swamps and what not. Stuff like a colony of Blade Apes, the location of that sort of thing shifts from time to time. Downside of a map that will outlast you, that stuff ain’t marked. So if you agree to be smart, I’ll recommend a spot for you to harvest, and show you a hopefully non-fatal route. If the Gods are cruel and you end up somewhere else, Silver Tongue includes an up-to-date map with stuff like the Blade Ape colony marked. He packages it with the more expensive one; two maps for one crazy price, but don’t even think about asking around for a cheaper solution. No one will sell you one, and if they did, you’d get lost and die. Alright, go get food.”

* * *

Arn slurped his soup with gusto, thinking about ordering a second. It was good. The rest of the group . . . was having trouble. “There are other options is all I’m saying, places where things just try and kill you, not burrow out of your eyes,” said Val. Pepper snorted, “we’re here, not 100 miles away at the caves of whatever-the-fuck or the ruins of who-gives-a-shit.”

Arn, not paying much attention, raised the bowl to his lips to make sure to get every last drop. Keana made a disgusted noise and let him have it. “Holy Hells Arn, we all know your crazier than a caged ferret in heat, but how can you flipping eat after hearing all that?” Arn snorted, “what, you thought the Sar thing was my first rodeo? I trained like that for near on a month. Hells, I got Masochist level two from the Sar thing. During the slarn hunt, I stabbed myself in the stomach to trigger my rage-like skill – twisted the blade too. If Elder Dannis had thought of burrowing bugs, it would have been part of the training program. Terrible oversight that. So yeah, I can eat. But I’m no kind of normal I know – you all figure what’s right for you. I’m going in regardless, doing what the Mayor recommended, but whatever you decide, I’ll still wish you the best.” After a solid 10 minutes of angst (and another bowl of soup) the group headed back down without firm decisions from anyone other than Arn and Pepper.

The Mayor greeted them brusquely. “All right, sit. I haven’t got all day. Well, we covered hidden and deceptive threats earlier. That is one of three groups. The second group is beasts that wander out from deeper in the jungle. And we aren’t going to cover those at all. There are too many possibilities. Once you figure out your dealing with something beyond your wildest prayers, you’ll run or you’ll die. Probably both. Making good progress now, right? The next category is pretty easy too – easy to tell you about anyway. No mystery about these critters for the most part – they’ll try and eat you straight off, you’ll fight or you’ll die. I’m gonna flip through our next picture book real quick and just go over a few little things. Might want to pay attention though, because sometimes the little things matter. Little things like ‘if a dracolisk tenses up its neck, get the Hells out of the way because a whole lot o acid is coming’ or ‘if you see one silver warg, realize it wants to be seen and guard your back, because they are a whole lot smarter than the black ones your used too.’”

After the Mayor blitzed through the drawings, he stretched and announced “all right, that’s it for me. Alys will show you some of the gear you’ll want. I don’t need your coppers, but I worked for everything I’ve got, and so will Alys, so tip well. You won’t need it where you’re going.” With that, the Mayor simply grabbed his ale and walked up the stairs.

When he was gone, Alys turned to the group and spoke in a soft but confident voice. “I’m sorry about my grandfather. I’m told he wasn’t always this way, but . . . well, he gave you good advice. The course should be longer, but we’ve been thanked by returning adventurers many times. I know you’ll be back too! I have a few things here on the table that will help. Silver Tongue makes suggestions, but he keeps everything in the back, it is much easier to see stuff in front of you. We mostly just have the Mayor’s recommended survival gear here with a couple of exceptions, so you’ll have to talk to Silver Tongue if you need skinning knives or things like that. Take a minute to stretch, gather round, and I’ll go through some things when you’re ready.”

As young and innocent looking as she was, it struck the group as more than a little odd hearing Alys talk about the tools of carnage, but she did so efficiently, covering time-delayed fire stones, enchanted cans she called “grenades” that cast darkness, blinding light, fear or web and a host of other items. She went well beyond anything the Mayor mentioned, touching on a wide range of subjects from sensible herb storage to making sure that you didn’t blow yourself to bits by failing to secure harvested gem hearts. When the group finally bid her goodbye, they tipped generously and went back up stairs for dinner.

* * *

Later that night, Arn nervously shifted the bottle of wine to his other hand and wiped sweat from his palm, before knocking on Keana’s door. Keana opened the door with a wide smile and took the bottle. “Arn! You brought me wine! Good boy! I snuck out for a little shopping of my own and have some surprises for you!”

Keana reached over the nearby table and grabbed a bandana. “Close your eyes big boy!” Arn did so, excitement rising, as Keana blindfolded him and took his hands. “Ok, now stick your hands out like this Arn! Good, now one second!” Arn held his hands out, and felt metal . . . bracelets (?) clink around his wrists. Arn suddenly felt Keana’s hands on his chest off to the side and reached for her lustily . . . missing. “None of that Arn! I’ve got a special evening planned. I may have been a child at the House of Leather and Lace, but the girls all talked. Don’t you worry a bit, half the customers were Masochists! I know just how to take care of you! Here, take this, and bite down.” Arn stuttered, “Keana wait. Its not like . . .”

In the next room over, Val briefly worried that he heard a little girl screaming.