Jacque awoke with a start, giving a barely audible gasp as his eyes adjusted to the lights (or lack thereof) around him. From the very moment he reached consciousness the man realized that there were several things that were very wrong. The first thing was the most obvious: there was no sky above him, and the ground that lie beneath was most definitely [u]not[/u] soil. Following this unpleasant discovery was an even more worrisome one: There were voices around him, voices that happened to be extremely close by. Where they thieves? Natives that took issue with him passing through some unmarked territorial boundary? Cannibals? The possibilities were as endless as they were potentially unpleasant. Or at least, they would have been had Jacque noticed a distinct lack of bindings and missing property. His bow was still firmly clutched in his left hand and the leather quiver and arrows were still beneath his wrist, the weight of the knife on his belt had not been alleviated, meaning that was still there too. Jacque slowly twitched his right foot, testing to see if- yes, the little wooden box was still tied to his ankle, and judging from the scraping sound within, as was the occupant of the box. 

If this was a kidnapping then it was a pretty piss poor one, after all the only thing missing was his weather blanket. He decided to actually tune in to what was being said, just in time to hear a feminine voice inquire about something that involved claws of anarchy. What was the phrase, Jacque wondered, risk it for a biscuit? '[i][color=0054a6]Well here goes the risk...[/color][/i]' He mused as he slowly sat up and eyes his surroundings. There was some wariness on his face as he eyed the people around him and his surroundings. Jacque registered it all for a second before he opened his mouth and said the only thing that was really of any worth to him: "[color=0054a6]Where the hell am I, and what the hell is happening?[/color]". His voice was deep, though it cracked a bit as he spoke, almost as though the man hadn't said anything in a good while. Technically true considering the last person he'd spoken to was a hiker in need of direction a week ago. The nomad eyed the cluster of people before him as he awaited his answer.