Storm raged sixth light. The ocean fiercely tormented the shore, with foam at the mouth threw on sharp stones and broke, shouted, beat against the rocks. In the muddy, white sky, purulent bags of clouds swayed heavily. Krieg pulled the air with his nose. It smelled like rot. Swampy land stretched from the coast deep into the island, there and here in a dirty slurry were twisted trunks of horsetails. Some creatures, similar to crimson cones, stuck around the corpse of a tree nearby and now, all together, watched the alien with small eyes. From them stretched a hot smell of fear. Krieg looked back at the shore. The cliff in the distance was the one the grabber screeched about, there could be no doubt about that. Somewhere here, very close, a treasure lurked. Krieg drove away the thought that the grabber might have lied. When their claws are stuck in their gills, they quickly stop stubborn... The entrance to the cache should be nearby...