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	Standing atop the moss crusted trunk of the fallen tree Lily, Max, and Marston were finally able to see over to the other side. There, isolated by steep sheer rock faces on all sides save for the one where Lily stood, was a fat trunked tree. It stood tall and healthy with thick branches and colorful leaves that splayed outwards like open welcoming hands. At it’s base strange flora grew unmolested by the various critters the jungle likely had, or once had. 

	Surrounding the tree was flat ground interspaced with tall, lush green grass of the darkest hue. Wispy little insects, the kind that made people rub their eyes thinking they had floaters, drifted around the miniature glade as a gentle breeze swept down through the little area. Standing over the enclosed, almost secret space gave the strangest impression of peace in the otherwise foreign place. 

	It all seemed so natural, so untouched by human hands that out of the corner of their eyes the three were able to quickly spot something out of place…

	There, sitting in the tall grass barely visible among the blades, was a large wooden chest. Made of dark wood and held together by a studded iron framework the container appeared very old, without actually seeming old. It was the kind of thing anyone could recognize as being a museum piece, a surviving antique or a replicate one would find in museums on medieval history. 

	Yet it showed no obvious signs of rot, rust, or deterioration other than the traces of dirt and pollen left on it by the forest. The chest remained amongst the grass like a child playing hide and seek. Trying to keep out of sight, but quietly hoping to be found…