(https://inkarnate-api-as-production.s3.amazonaws.com/Lgrgjz5qUGcdF9cC6LgfLU)<br/><br/>The road was long and dusty, having been forcibly cut into the thick foliage by axes, machetes, and the marks of cart wheels along the path. Along the way, some workers were cutting down more trees to provide wood for the camp, giving the new explorers warnings of pitfalls or directions through some of the thicker parts of the woods. An unpleasant journey, but perhaps marked by some small ember of hope. They had come for many reasons. Fortune, glory, knowledge, or more esoteric wants. If they did not find them here, then perhaps the trail itself proved an apt metaphor, that some parts of their path were hidden from their eyes, but would be revealed in due time.<br/><br/>The first explorers had found a grand boon. A crashed airship, still mostly intact. At first infested with rats and vermin, they had cleaned the place with ease and set up a barracks within. Maps of trails and nearby locations covered the handful of old crates pushed together to form a makeship table. The expedition leader, Far Rider, was often here, but also was just as often helping with the construction of various buildings, rigging of tents, or carrying of goods. Often, the only way to speak to her would be to join her in labor.<br/><br/>It was clear that they were among the first to come here. There would be many days of building and supplying before the expedition could begin in earnest. But many hands would make light work, and hands were in no short supply.