Titans Beneath the Purple Storm

Provision Against the Jungle

Before leaving the ancient lands, the party foraged for plants and compounds that could serve as insect repellent. They prepared what they found and stored it carefully before turning back towards the railway tunnels.

The route promised a return to worked stone, but the primeval jungle had one final passage to demand.

The Dryad’s Road

A figure emerged from the trees—or perhaps from the substance of the trees themselves. She appeared to be a dryad and stood across the route, barring the party from passing through the living wood.

Weapons remained lowered. Karl spoke with patience and charm until the spirit relented. Roots shifted, branches eased apart and the party passed without bloodshed.

The Storm That Followed

Looking back, the party saw enormous purple clouds gathering over the jungle. Thunder and lightning rolled with unnatural violence, and the storm seemed to be following their route.

Then the noise stopped. The silence was complete and peaceful for only a moment. Across the jungle came the creak of tortured trunks and the crash of falling trees. Something vast was moving towards them.

Utabo Walks

A colossal creature forced its way through the ancient growth. The party understood—or was made to understand—its name: Utabo, a demigod and god of dinosaurs.

He was not merely a great beast. The jungle yielded before him, and the storm framed his approach as though the land itself recognised a primordial sovereign.

A Possible Killer of Gods

Behind the party came another monster: a warped union of dragon and demon, enormous enough to face Utabo. Its name and nature were unknown. The terrible possibility that it hunted gods was no more than an immediate impression—but nothing in its appearance made the thought seem foolish.

The two titans advanced directly towards one another. Whether drawn by ancient hatred, territory or some primordial conclusion, neither acknowledged the mortals below.

Flight Through the Underbrush

Tooth met claw beneath the violet sky. Trees split, the ground shook and the party made the only reasonable choice: they ran.

They forced their way through the underbrush, alert to every venomous plant and unseen predator while the battle thundered behind them. Near nightfall, they escaped the ancient lands by the same route through which they had entered.

On the tunnel side, they marked the hidden entrance. One day they might return. For now, the primeval land—and the outcome of its divine battle—remained behind them.