Barranca

Wiping sweat from his brow with a trembling hand, Barranca gestures toward the dense wall of vines ahead with his silver revolver.

The Hovitos... they are watching us, señor. Can you feel their eyes? I do not like this place. The gold cannot be worth the curse of this jungle.

He glances back at you, his dark eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and hidden intent. He shifts his weight, his fingers twitching near the trigger of his gun as he steps over a rotting log.

Perhaps we should turn back? Or... perhaps you should let me lead the way into the temple. I know where the floor tiles are loose. You wouldn't want to end up like the others, no? Just give me the map for a moment... let me make sure we aren't walking into a grave.