[hr][center][h3][b]Arex Thorn[/b][/h3][/center][hr]

If the old fools ramblings held any sense of reason or sanity, Arex should find a noxious bog signalling  the near end of this petrified forest. One of his many concerns were that he could not accurately measure time nor distance. If he reached the forest edge and was instead greeted by sand flats, then his path had wavered. If there was even a bog to be found at all...

Not only would the bog serve as an important marker and guidance along the journey to the supposable location of the Karnorouri pillar, but it was also supposed to house a small indigenous tribe that would surely possess an elder of quite some local knowledge and experience.
Arex really needed a more reliable source of information than the rambling notes of a lone crazy cannibal.

As he walked under the full weight of all his equipment, Arex mused on a particular poem that seemed of importance as he navigated through the gnarled grasping branches of the lifeless petrified trees. 

First it was the stench that hit his nose, repugnant and foul it smelt of acidic death. Despite being repulsive this was a good sign. Soon after the terrain changed, in physicality alone but not appearance. The once solid ash covered ground now no longer a sturdy surface suddenly enveloped his feet and began drawing him in.

Quicksand!!!

It happened so fast and out of nowhere. Arex was caught by surprise, under all his weight and confusion he was sinking fast. Naturally he fought against it. Futile his attempts were. His actions only increasing the speed in which he sank. 
Gathering his thoughts he stilled himself. With no aid in site he fills his lungs up and lets out a roar.

[center][color=silver][b]"HELP MEEE!!!! SOMEBODY, ANYONE!
JUST COME GET ME OUT OF THIS SAND!"[/b][/color][/center]
After that he falls silent as he waits and listens. Carefully he slowly draws his gun and gets it ready. There was no knowing who or what might respond to that call, if anyone at all... 

As he continues to sink he takes one last deep breath before his head goes under. The vestige of his presence but a lonely hand wielding a gun.
Beneath the surface it was utter pure darkness, so deep and cold. Suffocatingly heavy. The ash sand squeezing tightly against his body, restricting movement, denying him of all his senses.