The summer squall has passed you by overnight, and you awake to the dull purples of a clearing sky and rising sun. Cool mist brushes past your face as you gather your things and prepare to break camp.
Pressing on you soon find that the plains are coming to an end: A distant range of mountains has risen over the horizon, and the tall grasses soon give way to scrub, and the scrub then gives way to ancient oaks. As you pass beneath the first green leaves, the last of the clouds have been burnt away and a bright sun stands starkly against a clear sky of blue. Your feet seem light upon the earth, and friendly banter soon erupts.
Then, as quickly as the stars had seemed to align themselves in your favor, the moment is shattered: An arrow, straight and true, lodges itself in the dust at your feet.
Instantly you are aware of the figures all about you--figures slim and fair, with slanted features and tapered ears.
"Welcome to the Forest of Athan."
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