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]

[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.]