Most coursers felt a pull to explore the Buried City. To delve where others hadn't gone before, discover lost riches, and make names for themselves! Well, not McLovin. He didn't like dirt. He didn't like bugs. And he most certainly did not like the Overgrown Caverns, which was full of both. In truth, McLovin was better eqiup for lounging on pillows and listening to the adventurous tales coursers brought back from the underground.

So what brought him here, to this unlikely place?

Bullies, quite frankly.

McLovin had a keepsake-- and item that he cherished dearly. It was a simple top. It wasn't magic (as far as he knew at least) but it was a gift from someone important to him. Someone that changed his life, for better or worse. A client of his had been a little too familiar with McLovin's things. Rumor had it, after they'd stolen his top, they'd gone into the Earthen Furnace and met their end. Good riddance. The only downside: how would poor sad little McLovin ever get his top back?

Well, coursers were made for adventuring, they said. So McLovin figured he could do this himself. One foot in front of the other. Step by step until--

With an undignified yelp, Mclovin felt his ankle roll and twist. His chest plunged to the ground as the layer of moss beneath his feet gave way where he'd stepped. A crack concealed by the lush vegetation that he'd simply walked straight into. Wedged, he let out a whimper.

"Anyone out there? Hello? A darling damsel needs some help!" He waited, surrounded by the noise of chirping bugs and distant jiggling slimes.

Never mind. He was NOT going to do this alone.