Toroyahk returned one day after a long walk through the established nature park in the swamp. It was once the home of a quiet neighborhood, then ravaged by a savage band of monsters accidentally freed from a cave where they had been buried for years. There were still the ruins of multiple log homes, some built like lean-tos, some like proper cabins. The most interesting one is a home built of stone, covered in soil and moss to make it seem to melt into the earth. A few folks of the town over the years have said that there was a woodland spirit living inside, hiding a beautiful gemstone beneath the floor. Multiple huckleberry trees grew in this land, and only permitted foragers were allowed to harvest plants and animals from this protected place. Toroyahk arrived at his hut, made of two layers of large flat stones, stacked vertically, held up by fungus-adorned logs pierced deep into the ground. The roof was made of thinner logs spread atop the flat stones, covered in a dense layer of moss that healed itself and absorbed the rainwater that would have leaked into the home. The front side of the square house was without a wall, only covered by the moss roof reaching down, conveniently obscuring the interior. The home had a floor made of similar rough stone slabs, one of which had multiple fossil sponges in it. There were multiple walnut shells used as vases for moist clay-rich soil growing various colorful fungi, from valuable orange slime fungus to small white matsutake mushrooms. At the corner of the singular room home there were two long haired, soft mouse-fur beds, tied to wooden planks with two soft, frayed ropes. At the center of the room was a thick slab of bone from an unknown animal due to its age, used as a dining table and food preparation spot. It was low enough that you sat cross-legged on the floor to use it. There were multiple clean hazelnut shells piled up in the middle, waiting to be used as dishes. On the bed furthest into the corner, Maroyahk lay on his bed, grinding his fingertips back to smoothness with a hard barnacle shard he had collected at the beach, after getting bored of the usual gray sandstone. “Father, I want to leave this town.” Toroyahk said to his father. He had said this multiple times before, but always scared himself and decided he would rather stay hidden away than face the world. “Toro. I ask again, why do you want to leave?” His father replied. Toroyahk thought for a second. He hadn’t asked for months. Why did he decide to ask again? “I want to see Tsi-Tsalonuhkk. I want to see the world. I don’t want to rot in this damp swamp anymore,” He answered. Maroyahk took slight offense to this insult of his home, but decided not to talk back to the young Tyneihan as to not discourage him. He was finally putting together what he wanted to do with his life, rather than just wanting to leave. “I would like to travel. The man who sold tomatoes two weeks ago told me he came from a land where people lived in houses made of dead coral, near a beach where crabs dig deep tunnels in the rocky sand every day. I worry that I will be… disappointed when I die. I’d never get to see a place other than a lazy town of farmers and lonely folks,” Maroyahk knew for a long time that his son would eventually give him reason to leave. He approved Toroyahk’s request, and pushed aside the bone slab to reveal a hole in the floor, leading to a small basement. It contained six copper swords of various lengths, lined up from the most decayed and oxidized to the least. At the center of the basement was a strange weapon. It looked almost like a scimitar, but the blade was a blunt, hard crab claw rather than a shining razor. The handle was made of pink Sequoia heartwood, Magically and seamlessly welded to the inside of the claw itself. Maroyahk stepped into the basement, and so did Toroyahk. Maroyahk picked up the strange weapon and held it in front of himself, to show Toroyahk. “This weapon was given to our eldest ancestor resident of this village by our goddess. She entrusted them with the tool, to pass it down and give it to the one who wished to leave. She believed that the first of our line who wished to leave would be of great spirit and deserved to wield the weapon. She apparently called it ‘The Crushclaw’. She told them that once you find a weapon greater than it, keep it safe. She said that it held further power than what it first seems,”
