BETRAYAL CHICKEN!

[firstworldproblem]

[The wind howled and blew a bitter chill past the dying trees; it danced with the leaves and dragged them away unwillingly from the autumn ground. The floor was damp and stagnant with the odor of decomposing wood, diamonds pierced the black sheet held up above and looked down with vengeance. The forest seemed to never end; tall silhouettes shadowing the ground, black birds circling overhead, and screams echoing through the wind.

You find yourself on a dirt road, lightly traveled. You can't recall how you got here. Did you die? Did you fall asleep? Did some magic of yours go awry? You look to the trees for answers, but they simply bend their branches in the slight wind.

Further up the road you see the silhouette of a person sitting against a tree.]

Comments

[inimarupta]

[What a bad time to be without a trusty dueling sword. That's a perfectly normal first thought for one to have on coming to one's senses in a strange place, isn't it? Invidia does not believe someone could work an earth or firecrafting on her to make her wander or flee here, and she would need to be in control of her own faculties to carry herself somewhere. Doesn't even spare a thought for the possibility of her own death. Surely that would be absurd.

But, focusing on her senses -- well, that will inevitably direct her gaze toward the person lurking in the tree. Invidia makes a face at the dirt road, and makes a motion as though plucking a piece of lint from the red-and-black dress she wears, before making her way in the direction of the silhouette. Her voice is raised as though simply greeting someone she expected to rendezvous with.]

Come now. The path is poor, but it is safe enough to stand upon.

[firstworldproblem]

[Red and black, huh? Toss in a smattering of gold, and then they could be fashion twins. Well, if Invidia also liked fur anyways.]

A traveler? I've occupied this road a fortnight and nary a soul has come this way. But here you are, chipper and ready for company.

[He gives a wave of his hand --- a slightly respectful tone slightly dampened by his position on the forest floor.]

Just passing through or do you have a destination in mind?

[inimarupta]

It sounds like a poor location for people-watching.

[Company makes everything easier. Company means there's someone else around to take the fall for something. Invidia inclines her head with lips quirking in an show of amusement at his description. Better to do that than tell him how much she dislikes being somewhere she doesn't already know everything.]

In fact, I am seeking a destination.

[firstworldproblem]

I will not protest your assessment of the situation.

[He stands slowly, slouching forward. His posture is truly atrocious.]

And what type of destination do you seek?

[inimarupta]

Protest all you like. But it would be terrible to argue it.

[She's absolutely judging that bad posture, but at least she doesn't comment on it. Instead, she makes a show of thinking.]

I suppose I'm looking for some semblance of civilization. And what about you, my dear?

[firstworldproblem]

[A shake of his shoulders at both her jibe and the question.]

Somewhere in this haunted forest must lie some remote village, else why would they go to the trouble of the road? I've been spending my time collecting my thoughts on how to proceed next. One destination is as good as another. If you came from that direction, the perhaps following the road in the other is a prudent course of action.

[Inviting himself along. Why yes!]

[inimarupta]

[A noncommittal noise.]

A remote village isn't necessarily the same thing as civilization.

[But...if there's anything the people of Calderon have taught her, frontier people are not to be underestimated. A sigh.]

Come along, then. Perhaps you will find something to watch yet.

[She extends a hand, palm-down and focuses on the road. Ah. Not a furycrafted road. Well, that will make it a bit slower-going. This time, straight-up annoyance flicks across her face before she starts walking, like a helpless idiot. Backcountry roads are awful.]

[firstworldproblem]

There are people, are there not?

[He tilts his head far to the side at her attempt at magic. It looks like he's trying to see something, but is a little frustrated that he can't.]

A mage. Delightful. Too much to hope for teleportation magic?

[He follows behind her without waiting for a reply, and boy, oh boy, is she slow. Acting as if he had all the time in the world.]

[inimarupta]

There may be people.

[There may be paganus or barbarians. Ah, well. She will walk and pretend her empathy didn't catch her for a moment in a little feedback loop of frustration between the two of them.]

Well, I could borrow from the breeze and fly there. But making sure the wind lifts two people instead of rustling a few leaves is a bit heavier than you might think.

[She turns and offers him a little smile.]

Besides, isn't a walk in the woods the best way to get to know a new friend?

[firstworldproblem]

[He can't help but have a wry smile. Are you calling him fat, dear?]

I don't suppose asking it nicely would change it's tune.

[He waves a hand in a dismissive gesture.]

Oh, yes. Just a casual stroll in such a place surely is the norm. Mayhaps I'll employ it on the next group of allies I'd like to court. It will warrant the most delightful reaction if nothing else.

[Continuing to walk at his dreadfully slow pace.]

[inimarupta]

If it is not to your liking, we could try some of your other courting techniques.

[She decides not to match his pace, walking a bit faster than him just to see what he will do. He would have to adjust pace or be slowly left behind. And yet, her bearing and the tone of her voice are quite friendly now.]

Let me think. There is always sharing invitations to exclusive and private proceedings. The trick there is securing them all for your use, before the rest can acquire them normally.

[firstworldproblem]

'Tis unusual is all. I'm curious to see if it will be successful.

[Oh, god. He does shuffle to keep up, but there is that look of slight irritation on his face for a brief instance though he does not voice his ire. Though that quickly fades away at her next statement.]

With such a statement one might think you were part of some inner council. Or perhaps you just through the most delightful parties that spurn jealousy --- the good kind.

[inimarupta]

[Lips curl at a private joke when he speculates about her. So, not someone who knows the Aleran nobility.]

I am not part of an inner council. I do, however, host festivities that will make people ignite with envy.

I am Invidia, High Lady of Aquitaine. And my traveling companion?

[firstworldproblem]

Green with envy? How charming.

Emet-Selch. Ascian.

[He gives a bow with a hand gesture that goes over his face.]

Though I have never heard of a place called Aquitaine. Perhaps you could tell me more about it.

[inimarupta]

[Invidia returns the gesture with no more than a respectful incline of her head. Introducing himself as Ascian, not knowing Aquitaine -- he is no Aleran. Not from a bastion of civilization as she knows it. But...well, certainly better than most barbarians she knows. She explains as she walks.]

Aquitaine is a city-state in the east of the Aleran nation. [She considers lying. She could just tell him they represent the capital, not Alera Imperia. How would he know? But then again, what purpose would it serve? Instead, she gestures to the woods around them.] Bordered by the Feverthorn Jungle. Something a bit less appealing for a stroll that our current whereabouts.

[firstworldproblem]

City-state.

[He says the words slowly to himself as he continues to walk alongside her. He's keeping pace quiet well without trying much. Perhaps he is now more interested.]

I can infer by your description of the jungle that lumber and harvesting aren't what your city is know for. Outside of these parties is th----

[He's cut off though as frantic hoof beats grow louder, heading towards them from the path ahead.]

[inimarupta]

Oh, I've tried my hand at making art of the larger trees.

[Hearing hoof beats, Invidia grows more alert. Tries to continue looking casual, even though she's stiffening and focusing on the earth, trying to extend her senses and find where something is, presumably, galloping along. Good to be prepared. Plus, if she's tapping this element, she can make herself immovable to meet a possible charge.]

No better artisans in the realm than those of Aquitaine. Which -- [Even now, she's chuckling.] -- do help with the parties.

[firstworldproblem]

[Her senses tell her it is a reckless charge --- a horse in fear. A single horse as far as she can tell.

A wild-eyed horse bursts out of the fog, blood flying from its wounded flanks. Its fur-swathed rider sways in the saddle, gleaming hatchet in his hand.

Her new traveling companion gets slightly off the road to let this crazed horse run on by, but it halts when it sees the pair, rearing up on its hind legs.]

Someone is having an awful day.

[inimarupta]

Now, don't just think of yourself.

[Her eyes on on the hatchet first, only then looking to the rider and his mount. Since she's drawing on earth anyway, Invidia extends her hand, palm-up even as she reaches out with her will. To roll animal handling. Er, to attempt calm it, urging steadiness.]

[firstworldproblem]

[The horse will calm snorting and pacing a foot, but easy enough to approach. The rider flops upon its back almost boneless as Emet-Selch approaches. He looks at the rider long and hard trying to discern something.

Though that quiet moment is broken by the howling of wolves from beyond the trees and the padding of paws just outside their field of vision.]