Emmaline exchanged glances with Amal as the savage looking horsemen approached. The craftsmen ship on their weapons and saddlery was crude but looked effective. The fact the men spoke Riekspiel in addition to what was apparently their native dialect meant they must have come into contact with the men of the Empire at some point and that buoyed Emmaline's spirits considerably.

"We were ship wrecked," Emmaline called to them, I am Emmaline and these are my friends Amal and ... Brenly," she said, omitting his knighthood after a slight hesitation. She didn't know what an Errantry War was, but if Brettonian's were enemies of these people there was little point in drawing attention to it.

"Shipwrecked? How did you climb the cliffs?" the leader asked suspicously.

"We came ashore..." Emmaline made a vauge guesture but all directions were essentially the same with the fog and the trees.

"That way somewhere? We wandered after that, we don't have any notion of where we are," she explained. The leader said something in his own language and his companions roared with laughter. Though she couldn't understand the jest Emmaline's face colored slightly.

"You will come with us, you will be in a giants belly before morning if you are out here when the sun goes down," the leader pronounced patting his horse. Emmaline exchanged looks with her companions and then climbed up into the saddle, sitting forward of the leader so she could grip the horses neck with her arms. Her companions did the same with the other horsemen and a moment later they were cantering off the grassland and onto a well worn trail into the woods.

"Best to be behind warding stones before the sun goes down," the leader said, seemingly watching in all directions as they rode.