Journal Entry — Day 5, Aboard the Iron Lark, approaching the Maw*
I woke to screaming.
Not the kind from nightmares—the real kind. Splintering wood, snapping ropes, men yelling over thunder as rain hammered the deck like a war drum. The storm had found us.
By the time I climbed above, the Iron Lark was already leaning hard, its sails twisting like torn wings. Korrin was barking orders, soaked to the bone, boots slipping across the deck.
"Move, damn you! We lose the mast and we die here!"
No one questioned him. Not even me.
We were thirty men strong when we left port. Adventurers, convicts, bastards, dreamers. Now we were one crew, all soaked in salt and fear, holding the ship together with bare hands and raw voices.
I threw my weight behind the ropes, helping reel in what we could. The sea tried to drown us with every wave, but we spat back. And then, just as fast as it came, the storm broke.
The wind stilled.
And we saw it.
Through the mist and rising sun, jagged cliffs broke the horizon like rotten teeth. Trees like spires. Smoke rising from nowhere. The color of the land was wrong—too grey, too green. It looked like it had never seen light.
The Dead Maw.
"Landfall. Get ready," Korrin muttered. He wasn't smiling.
I'm writing this now as we unload the ship. Supplies are scattered across the dark sand—barrels of rations, crates of iron and powder, a dozen rifles, and a flag we don't believe in anymore. Our boots sink in wet, alien earth. Everything feels... watched.
Command back home said we were to "prison the land"—claim it in the name of some distant crown, strip it for gold, name it glory. They don't know what lives here. We don't either. But we'll find out. Or we'll die trying.
And then it happened.
Thwunk.
A scream. Then silence.
I turned and saw Lerrin—one of ours—staring down at a spear jutting clean through his chest. He gurgled once, then dropped. Blood soaked the sand like ink on parchment.
They came out of the jungle slow. Dozens of them. Tall, wiry, pale-grey skin like stone. Bones painted white. Jagged teeth, eyes like hollow moons. Each one held a crude spear, raised to the sky in eerie silence.
We froze.
And then, we didn't.
Korrin lifted his rifle. So did I. So did the rest of the crew.
No fear. Just instinct.
They want to test us?
They'll find out what kind of devils this continent has just swallowed.
--M.