“Burt…”

You lie half asleep in your sleeping bag, it’s almost dawn and you hear a faint whisper. You ponder for a moment, wondering if you’re dreaming about someone trying to catch Burt’s attention, or if Burt is just muttering his own name in his sleep.

Deep in the Sunshade Mountains…

This cursed shard. There is no doubt this is the artifact my father attempted to carry to Amalhasu. Even after wrapping it in layers of cowhide the mere presence of it brings up memories of that oaf. It’s heavy. I feel it draining my power, my very soul, as I carry it through these forests.