All Or Nothing

I didn’t sleep much that night.

Kept turning those few silver coins over in my hand, thinking about how long I’ve been running around for Gryan. How little I have to show for it. The map pieces have been sitting in my pack for weeks now, almost forgotten while I played soldier.

No more.

I packed what little I had, bought some extra supplies, and left Sentinel Hill withoutmaking a fuss. If this treasure is real, I’m going to find it. If it’s not… then I’m done with Westfall. Done with burned fields, bitter farmers, arrogant commanders, and half-paid jobs.

I spent the next days following the map in earnest. No more half-measures. I tracked every marking, every note, every faded line. I talked to people I normally would have ignored. Old sailors, washed-up smugglers, even a few desperate souls who used to run with the Defias before they got smart and left.

Some laughed at me. Some warned me. One old woman just shook her head and said:

“Sanders was a bastard, but he was a clever one. If he hid something, he hid it well. And he made sure only the right kind of fool would ever find it.”

I’m not sure if she meant that as an insult or a compliment.

Either way, I’m committed now.

This is it. Either I find Captain Sanders’ treasure… or I leave Westfall with nothing but regret and empty pockets.

No more waiting. No more running errands for men who don’t respect the work I do.

It’s time to see if this old legend is worth anything at all.