SicariusSicariiStuff/text_adventures · Datasets at Hugging Face

So that's exactly what you do. On your right are three of those miniature stepped pyramids, each the size of a small house. Vines are crawling over each one, with small trees sprouting from cracks in the rock. All three structures are capped with one of those strange statues you noticed earlier, almost like a Buddha with ram's horns, although there is no time to ponder the actual cultural references on display here; the Woban will be reaching the top of the hill any second now, and the only way your strategy will work is if you can disappear inside one of these buildings before he sees you.

Therefore the one nearest you will have to do. You are happy to see that the opening is unobstructed, even if the interior is completely dark. With a quick turn to the right, you pass through a doorway that has perhaps not seen another human being step across its threshold in centuries, if not longer.

A single shaft of light falls into the dark space, but otherwise you are unable to see anything else inside the chamber you have just entered. You back up until you are completely out of the light, and then you drop to your knees, hoping you won't be giving yourself away by your heavy breathing; if you aren't able to quiet yourself, that uphill sprint for your life may prove to be your undoing yet.

And as it turns out, you've found this spot just in time — the Woban is now running up the same ancient street you just vacated.

But then his footsteps come to a stop just outside your hiding place.

"‘O na i‘a make! Ke pa‘ani nei ‘oe i na pa‘ani o kahi keiki, hnh? E loa‘a wau ia ‘oe, a laila luku wau ia ‘oe!"

He sure is going on about something! Unfortunately, it sounds like he's figured out that if you couldn't outrun him, then you must be hiding.

It takes all of your willpower to suppress your labored breathing; the Woban may not be able to see you, but he can certainly hear you if you don't take control of yourself. For extra measure, you also scoot further back into the darkness until you hit the rear wall.

You can hear the Woban outside, still on the overgrown street in front of the three dwellings. What is he doing? For the first time since this encounter began, you wish he'd say something, because then you could determine with more certainty where he is out there. His silence is driving you crazy with suspense.

Then he appears in the doorway like a living shadow, silhouetted by the bright sunlight of the mountain plain. He merely stands there, holding the spear to his side and sniffing the air. He's trying to smell you! All you can do is hope that a Woban's sense of smell is no more developed than a human's — that, and you hope the purpose of the third eye is not to allow him to see better in the dark.

But then, with a grunt of disappointment, he turns and exits the doorway. This is followed by the sound of his footsteps jogging down the ancient street, away from your hiding spot.

It worked! You fooled the Woban, and now he has no idea where you are. The next problem you have to face will be getting out of here unseen — and then somehow scaling up the mountain to the summit temple, which is of course the entire reason you are here. But these are problems you'll have to break down into their constituent elements, managing your way through them one at a time.

Before you can act, though, you need to gather some intel. You stand up from your kneeling position in the dark, with the intent of slowly advancing toward the door so you can peer outside and see where your adversary has gone. But as you rise, something leathery brushes your cheek.

"Holy crap!"

Your reaction is almost involuntary, and you regret the exclamation as soon as you make it. But the consequences are irreversible: you have just startled a hidden colony of bats, and now they are fleeing out of this cave-like chamber in a flutter of fur and fleshy wings.

Please don't let the Woban see this. Please don't let the Woban see this. Please don't let… .

But it's too late. You hear his footsteps pounding the ancient paving stones, running back toward your hiding spot.

"Ua loa‘a wau ia ‘oe, ka‘u i‘a make!" he says. "‘Ano ua lilo ‘oe i ‘aha‘aina a ko‘u makua kane!"

You have no idea what he just said, but you know it can't be good.

THE END<|endoftext|>

<|startoftext|>The next afternoon sees you slowly threading your way through the thick tropical forest, trying not to slip down a steep, wet slope.

You spent the previous night camping high in a mountain pass, where you found a tiny spring emerging from under a mossy rock. The spot was on the fringe of the same type of high-elevation grassland as the bald summit where you had drawn your map, and chances are if you had reached it any earlier in the day the place would have been hot as an oven. But in the evening, when you stumbled across it, your little campsite was cool and pleasant. Your ten-year-old REI backpacking tent was more spacious than the Zodiac had been the first night, and so your first full day on the island ended pleasantly. If the Wobans were throwing themselves another party, you were now too far away to hear it.

It hadn't all been fun and games, though. Yesterday, after you had stopped to sketch the map, your progress had been slowed unexpectedly. Getting down from that grassy bald had been simple, but the next little summit in the ridgeline was steep and cliffy. Going over it was not possible, and you could see no further signs of a trail, so you saw no option but to descend a few hundred feet and find an easier way around this part of the mountain. Regaining all that lost elevation was discouraging, but then you discovered the spring and all was forgiven.

Now, almost a full day later, here you are making your way over the third summit in the chain, and although this one is higher than the other two it has been completely wooded so far. Without a trail to follow, you have been forced to thrash your way through the thick vegetation. There is no graceful way to travel in these conditions, so you have been taking your time.

Although the tower-like main summit is now maybe half a mile away, you can scarcely see it. Actually, you are slowly working your way down toward a large blank spot on your map, where you have little idea what to expect. When you had stopped to sketch your map yesterday, you were able to see a good swath of the island, but not the parts that were concealed by the various mountain summits. It looked like there had been a sizable gap between the third and final peaks, but you had not been able to see what that gap contained. Whatever is there, you're about to be wandering through it in just a matter of minutes.

And so, after another fifteen minutes' worth of scrambling down steep, moss-covered slopes and crawling under fallen trees, the terrain flattens out. You continue forward, marveling that after all that ridiculous toil over the wooded summit, the vegetation is thinning out again here in the broad space between the mountains.

You are tired, dirty, and hungry — as well as intrigued by what is opening up ahead of you. The forest trees thin into scattered shrubs, and once again you are walking across a baking-hot grassland. This one is immensely picturesque, though. It is a high-elevation plateau, broad and mostly flat. The main summit spire rises almost five hundred feet above you, but you have arrived too late in the day to be in its shade. And dotting this tropical prairie are the remains of an ancient complex of buildings.

Various weeds and vines crawl over the cut-stone structures like a riot of snakes. The place is like an archeologist's wet dream, the remains of a civilization that had until recently been completely unknown to modern academia. The artistic and architectural styles on display here seem to be a mishmash of global influences: humble dwellings that resemble scale models of Mayan pyramids, rows of toppled Greek columns, eroded statues that seem to depict a horned cherub, like a satanic Buddha or something. You could spend a year exploring the place — but only if some rich fat cat thought there was something worth collecting here, and was willing to bankroll your expedition.

As impressive as the lost city is, the rocky tower is downright intimidating. How the heck is anyone expected to get up that thing? This is a challenge that is going to require some thought.

Perhaps you should start looking for a place to camp. As awesome as this plateau is, you see no sources of water here, so you'll need to venture back into the woods to search for other options. You decide to look along the northern side of the plateau, where based on experience you expect to find a verdant and moist slope leading down from the highlands. Hopefully you'll stumble across another spring — or better yet, a pool. You could use a good rinse.

So, veering northward, you soon reach the point where the terrain begins to slope downward, and trees once again become larger, albeit sparsely populated. You are wading through ferns, exalting in the fact that you have just spotted a glint of sunlight off a pool of water just ahead of you, at the foot of the hill. The terrain is gentle and open, water seems to be in abundance, and there is a good view of the mountain spire that stands between you and victory. The odds are good you have just found tonight's campsite.

You run like a giddy child to the edge of the pool. You can see right away that it is not a natural pond, but a square-edged reservoir of some kind, yet another artifact from the ancient city. Happily, the water is clear and clean. You bend down to splash its cool goodness over your face.

But what you fail to notice — until it is much too late — is the figure that rises from the ferns just around the corner. It is only when it begins to move forward through the vegetation that you turn and see it — a Woban, with tattooed and deeply tanned skin, a bone necklace, grass skirt, and a long spear. Above all, the most distinctive feature is that eerie third eye that sits directly above the bridge of his nose. You surmise he had been hunting, waiting among the tall ferns for his prey to come, when you bumbled into the scene instead.

"O Manu o Ke Kaua ko‘u inoa!" he shouts. "I keia la wau e lilo i kane, aka mua au e ku i ka pa‘akiki. Pono e luku au i ka holoholona ae hanai i ka io i ko‘u makuakane. E ho‘omakaukau ia ‘oe iho e make, holoholona!"