"[color=39b54a]Are we there yet?![/color]"

"No!"

"[color=39b54a]Are we there yet?[/color]"

"No I said!"

"[color=39b54a]How long till we're there?[/color]!"

"I just told you five minutes ago!"

"[color=39b54a]How long is it now then?![/color]"

"Ughhh... "

Marcus, the chubby Imperial tax collector sighed, wiping his sweaty brow with his purple silk cloak as he looked over to the Soldier riding the wagon next to him. Above each their shoulder was the wide eyed, green face of Zina, the Semper Fae looking eagerly to each one of them; her green, dark eyes fixing on the driver holding the wagon's reins.

"[color=39b54a]Hey! Could I try to drive too?![/color]"

For the sixtieth time, the soldier did not answer. His eyes simply deadpanned the road ahead from the shadow cast by his nasal helmet. Marcus let out another sigh.

"If I wanted to kill us all by driving off us off the nearest cliff, I could do that myself. I don't need your help! Now stay quiet, Fae!" 

Zina continued to look around, taking in every last bit of the landscape as she continued to shuffle from either side of the wagon to get a better view; causing the soldiers sitting in the back to jump aside to avoid her. Their wagon was part of the annual treasure caravan, bringing back tithes and taxes to Dramon. 

"[color=39b54a]It's so big![/color]"

Zina exclaimed with excitement as Dramon came within vision as they crested their caravan crested the ridge, and they came into the lowlands around Dramon. 
All the way to the city, Zina was hanging dangerously out of the side of the wagon as she waved at the citizenry of Dramon, the reactions she gained being a mix of surprise, fear, astonishment and even terror when Zina tried to reach down and pat one of the human saplings, only for a larger female to pull the little human back.

"[color=39b54a]It's soooo many people... ![/color]" Zina awed as they finally stopped and dismounted the caravon outside of the main keep, the Fae about to walk off in a random direction when one of the guards grabbed her by her arms and faced her towards the entrance of the keep instead; causing said guard to yelp in pain and pull his hands back when when he realized he had just buried his hands in a layer of nestle and thorns!

*

Minutes later, a 7,3ft tall Fae would be pushed into the throne room by a pair of guards wearing thick, protective leather gloves; as a small, hunchback scribe tied down by half a dozen heavy books in chairs made a bow; gesturing towards Zina.

"My Emperor, pardon my intrusion... let me present Zina Withervine, the greatest sorceress of the Fae of the Brightwood Grove." The bleary-eyed, overwork scribe motioned at Zina. The Fae looked around the room with wide eyes of awe, before her eyes fixed on The Emperor, passing over Mynx, Neil and Kean. Zina's poison green face beamed with a smile and she raised a hand to wave.

"[color=39b54a]Hi![/color]"