When dawn broke, I forged on, deeper into the jungle, and soon had become lost, or rather, more lost than I had already been when I was stranded on an uncharted isle, separated from my crew, with no credible hope of rescue.
I must have been stumbling around for hours, the vegetation preventing me seeing more than a few feet in front of me, when in the distance I heard drums and chanting. Since I had already resolved that the only chance of my salvation lay in the unlikely hands of the cultists, and lacking any other plan, I made for the commotion with all speed.
Some sort of ceremony was taking place in a wide jungle clearing. I got as close as I thought safe from detection, and drew my telescope up to my eye. The masked men were around an altar, preparing something. At last, one of them moved, and I was able to see what they were doing - the object they were creating was an effigy of myself. Though the head was a potato, it was still a good likeness.
I especially liked how they'd put a parrot feather in the hat made of broad red leaves, and in more friendly circumstances, I'd have been moved to award some sort of prize. However, seeing that doll told me two things; the cultist had long known of my presence, and most likely bore me ill will.
Tired of all this sneaking around, I decided to go on the offensive. There were only three of them, after all, and while they'd clearly seen me already, they didn't seem to realise that I had also spied them! Bursting from the undergrowth, I fell upon them, hammer swinging, and two were quickly seeing stars. However, the third had leapt away, and had snatched up the doll.
I gritted my teeth, gripped my hammer and advanced upon him. He backed away from me, and, drawing a long bone needle from his belt, drove it into the doll's left leg. There was an unusual sensastion of pins and needles, then the leg flopped dead, and I almost fell. However, I was made of sterner stuff, and hopped menacingly onwards. The cultist gabbled some gibberish about moons and stars at me, and drew another bone spike, and drove it into the doll's right arm. My arm fell to my side, and my hammer fell from my nerveless grip. But still, onward I hopped, faster now, hoping to rush him, and fell him with a mighty southpaw blow. However, a third needle to the doll's other leg cut me short, and I fell to the ground with an "argh!"
Thinking he had me, he advanced now, giggling and gibbering, raising a needle to the doll's head... I had moments to act, so I grabbed the first thing that came to hand, and heaved it into his face. He screamed and clawed at his eyes, dropping the doll. I sniffed at the noxious substance on my hand, and understood. As the owner of such an animal, I knew monkey poop when I smelt it.
The cultist's concentration was broken, and my paralysis ended as soon as it began. Snatching up the doll and my hammer, I rounded on the luckless cove.
"Right!" I snarled, "let's see how you like it!" and brought my hammer down on the doll's head. I believe it was at about this time that I lost consciousness.
For the other events of Day 3, see the blogs of Gaea, Galene and Cronus.
Or go to Day 4 where Hephaestus' epic adventure continues!