The last few days had held ups and downs for Mags. 

She had managed to decipher another stanza in the love poem she had been studying. It was curious, because the poem was engraved into a lead Jocasta snuffbox from (judging by the crimping on the corners) 2nd Period Praeloria. But the language used was an unusual Old Elvish dialect. The poem itself was an ode in praise of the beauty of Elvish womanhood (woelvishhood?) If she had to guess, Mags would say that it had been intended as a gift between a human noble and an Elvish woman. Mags held a suspicion that the snuffbox once possessed an enchantment. Figuring out the entire poem might provide a clue. Mags was vaguely aware of the fact that if she took this to an auction house in the North, she could make enough money to buy rounds for an entire tavern every night for a month. As it was, the most pressing thing for Mags was to find if it held any magic that she could learn. If she found it didn't, she'd probably either store it in one of the numerous cache's she started setting up, or would pawn it off to whoever she found in exchange for some essentials.

Unfortunately, a few nights ago a Rodent of Unusual Size had stolen all of her food while she slept. Since then, she hadn't had much luck with scavenging anything. She was worried. How was she supposed to uncover the ancient civilization if she couldn't even last long enough to find the dragon? At least she didn't have to worry about being eaten by a dragon, she was so skinny that she would make a horrible snack for anyone. Not that [i]that[/i] had stopped the mosquitoes from trying. Her stomach had stopped growling, and now just sat, frustrated, dragging Mags onward. She hadn't been able to sleep the night before, so she had been digging into her Jocasta stash hard to keep her upright. It kept her moving, but whenever it started to wear off, she became incredibly aware of how ravenous she was, which made her chew more in an attempt to quell the pangs, which worked for a while. 

She had finally hit what appeared to be the rough edge of the current forest. Mags was being driven crazy by the thought of finding some jackalopes in the brush for dinner. She plucked her way across the thinning woods, her hardened feet scrabbling over roots and rocks. She was so absorbed in the thought of eating an entire horse that she failed to hear the sounds of nearly a dozen horses tramping its through her.

When the first horse cantered past her, Mags let out a low yelp, springing away from the hooves. As the rest of the horses streamed past her, Mags hunkered down, casting Dunexan's Gentle Protector, stopping the spray of loose pebbles and twigs being flung up by the horses. 

Stumbling to her feet, Mags fumbled with drawing her dagger, nearly dropping it on her foot as she dizzily brandished it. 

She couldn't focus enough to remember which hand went first when casting Excellent Prismatic Spray, so she decided to try diplomacy.

"Woah! I, uh, I.. Don't hurt me please!"

[i]Oh, yes. Excellent. My eloquence will save the day. Best make peace with the Gods now.[/i]

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