Let me tell you about the day I first understood what real treasure hunting means. It wasn't when I found my first ancient coin in Vermund's northern forests, nor when I deciphered those cryptic elven runes carved into mountain ruins. It was actually during a conversation with an old oxcart driver while traveling from Vermund's capital to the western checkpoint city. He said something that stuck with me: "The real fortune isn't what you find, but what you become while searching for it." And you know what? After spending nearly three months exploring every corner of this sprawling world, I've come to believe he was absolutely right.

Vermund truly is the perfect starting point for any aspiring treasure hunter. The capital city itself holds more secrets than most people realize - I've personally counted at least seventeen hidden passages within the fortified walls that most visitors completely miss. One particularly memorable discovery happened when I decided to explore beneath the main marketplace, where I uncovered a network of tunnels dating back at least two centuries. These weren't just storage areas either - they contained merchant records that helped me understand trade routes that had been forgotten for generations. The real trick to finding such places? Talk to the locals, but not during daylight hours. I've found that tavern keepers and night watchmen share the most valuable information, usually after sunset when the bustling capital settles into a different rhythm.

The journey north to that small village might seem straightforward, but I've learned that the most rewarding discoveries often happen when you stray from the main path. About six miles outside the capital, there's a particular dense forest where the canopy completely blocks out the sun - it's easy to miss if you're not paying attention. I spent nearly two weeks mapping that area alone, and my records show I discovered three separate elven ruin sites that aren't marked on any official maps. One contained artifacts that I estimate to be approximately 350 years old based on the weathering patterns and architectural styles. What fascinates me about these northern routes isn't just what you find, but how the landscape itself tells stories. The way rivers have shifted their courses over time, for instance, can lead you to settlements that were abandoned when water sources changed.

Now, let's talk about the western route to Battahl - this is where things get really interesting for serious treasure seekers. The checkpoint city serves as more than just a border crossing; it's a cultural melting pot where information flows as freely as the goods being traded. I've developed a system here that's served me well: spend two days gathering intelligence before even considering crossing into the arid lands of Battahl. The beastren have a completely different approach to preserving history, and their cat-like agility allows them to access areas we humans would struggle to reach. I remember one particular instance where a beastren merchant showed me how to interpret canyon wall markings that turned out to be a map to a hidden spring - a priceless discovery in that dry landscape.

The gondola rides over Battahl's canyons aren't just transportation - they're mobile observation platforms if you know how to use them properly. I always make sure to take at least three separate gondola trips across the same route at different times of day. The changing light reveals different details in the canyon walls below. On my second expedition, this method helped me spot what turned out to be an entire buried settlement that I estimate housed around 200 people at its peak. The harsh sunlight that bathes these shifting sands actually preserves certain materials remarkably well - I've found leather items and textiles in Battahl that would have completely deteriorated in Vermund's more humid climate.

What many novice treasure hunters fail to appreciate is how the different regions connect historically. The elven ruins in Vermund's mountains show architectural influences that suggest trade with early beastren civilizations, despite the current political tensions. In my professional opinion, based on examining patterns across 47 different sites, there was likely a sophisticated network connecting these regions that collapsed roughly 280 years ago. The evidence lies in the way certain symbols appear in both mountain carvings and canyon markings, though interpreted differently by each culture.

The truth about finding lost fortunes is that it requires understanding this world as a living, breathing entity rather than just a collection of search locations. I've developed what I call the "three-layer approach" to exploration: first, study the obvious structures; second, understand the natural landscape and how it's changed; third, and most importantly, learn how people moved through and used these spaces in their daily lives. This method has led me to discoveries that simpler approaches would have missed, like the hidden compartment in a Battahl canyon dwelling that contained what I believe were musical instruments made from rare desert woods.

Having covered over 400 miles on foot across both regions, I can confidently say that the greatest treasures aren't always gold or jewels. Sometimes they're knowledge, like understanding why the elves built their structures facing specific mountain peaks, or how the beastren's gondola system evolved from simple transportation to a sophisticated trade network. The real hidden riches lie in seeing the connections between places and peoples, in recognizing that every path taken - whether by oxcart, gondola, or foot - reveals another piece of this world's incredible story. And that, to me, is the ultimate fortune any treasure hunter could hope to find.