Tightening the straps of her spear, Jovalyn looked out into the lively DuFair woods with the impression that they seemed only slightly more prolific, dense, and lush than moments before. It was very possible the palpable ecstasy of a full, lavishing meal of flying bull meat had interferred with the her sense of sight. The sun did seem brighter and Rodrick less boar faced. So Jovalyn kicked her leg in the air a bit to make sure the boots were tight enough to not fly off mid climb. Satisfied, she climbed down a vine roped ladder leading to another wooden platform nominally lower than the last, until she heard what sounded like a young girl singing a Naeri prayer.

She'd left Rodrick behind to do whatever it was he was doing, pattering makeup along his eyes probably (which while he may have told her it was camouflage at least twenty times, she refused to believe) so it was up to her to find out who this shrill trilling maiden was and possibly drag her back screaming to the camp. She headed along the strung together wooden bridges, until the smell of brimstone and sulfur began to envelop the air. Which seemed odd, though Jovalyn didn't have the time to ruminate on the fact when a flaming ball of pure hellfire slammed down from the canopy to the ground below, outright destroying a part of the bridge she was now kneeling down in a panic on. Jovalyn screamed, hands on the back of her head as a looming figure of raging heat and cinder eyes rose it's head through the hole it had cut.

Lifting her gaze, only to be met with the flaming figure of what could be called a mans head, it met her far less glorious eyes and bellowed, "Jovalyn! Arise!" wisps of flame flicked from its not-teeth. 

Terrified out of her mind, Jovalyn jerked into a standing position, stumbling back and grabbing onto the vine railing of the bridge. 

The effulgent figure of flame continued, "I am Lord of Flame, God of Rejuvenation!" a bird mid-flight was evaporated then reborn as a Phoenix, "And you!" the air sweltered into a blur of intense heat. "Are to go to a far greater purpose than the mere boundaries of your feeble forest!" 

Jovalyn, eyes wide and trembling, nodded reluctantly. The trees around seemed to become partially aflame with a fire that did not destroy, "You are to travel to the Plains of Origin and meet a storyteller my Sister has chosen. My Brother, dark he be, wishes an end to the cycle." On one tree a lizards skin bubbled and hissed and the skin unfolded to reveal a Salamander who slid out of the melting scales. 

"Falter not, lest the world end in ashes!" Lasair boomed, flames swirling and winding back down to the ground floor, disappearing into a small pile of ash. The bridge itself was still partially destroyed, but the God still had the decency of keeping the trees from harm. A bird made of fire squawked and flew off.

The scream that Jovalyn let out was loud enough for said young girl... man... Named Sam, to hear it. He had been picking up his bag after his encounter with his personal goddess when he heard her scream. A prickle went down his neck as he recognized that scream, and he choked on his own breath. "Bonnep." he cursed. Why did he have to be near HER of all people. 

He swallowed his pride and took his bag over his shoulder and ran in the direction of the noise. Sam quickly saw the bride up above him and the woman who once kidnapped him for weeks. He couldn't help but smile at that look of fear in her eyes. "What's the matter sweetheart, get turned down again?" He teased, knowing she's likely throw her spear at him.

Jovalyn looked down at the "sweetheart" comment and stared down at a vaguely familiar figure below. After a moments contemplation, long enough for fear to turn into rage, she unfastened the spear from her cloak and chucked it loosely, more out of spite than an actual kill attempt.

Sam watched the spear hurdle toward him to which he danced to the side rather smoothly. "Charming as ever Jovalyn." He said, leaning against the pole now drove into the ground. "You were screaming?" He inquired, looking at the destroyed bridge. "What happened here?"

Jovalyn pressed three fingers against her temple and closed her eyes and yelled back down, "Give me a moment, I was so busy thinking of ways to end your life you that I almost forgot." She breathed a loud sigh and continued, "A God just told me to go to the Plains of Origin." The Phoenix flew past yet again and screached loudly, spiraling through the air southward. "Yes, and that happened." she mused, turning her head just to notice the thing had defecated on her shoulder, which was also covered in flames. She patted it down hurriedly, singeing her hand.

Sam laughed profusely at the flaming fecal matter, bending over in his amusement. "You too huh? Naduir just said hi to me as well."She was a bit less... Well she left me a flower rather than instructions." He said, pulling the spear out of the ground and twirling it in circles like a flag pole indigenous to certain Naeri Cirks. "I suppose we're going in the same direction." He said, appearing perfectly fine but hiding the fact his blood was boiling with this series unfortunate events

"...Fantastic." Jovalyn said sourly, hopping off the bridge to the closest dangling set of vines which seemed to move down to meet her. She slid down all the way to the ground, walking over to Sam. She demanded, "Spear, mine, hand it over or I swear to Naduir I will use every last inch of it to mount you like a flag."

Sam whistled and shoved the spear in her hand with a forced smile. "I thought I refused your proposal. Mounting me would seem silly." He Joked half heartedly. "I'm gonna go ahead and make my way, I am Naeri, I go where the wind takes me anyway. If you feel the necessity to travel with the man to whom you were once a suitor you can, I don't mind." he offered through gritted teeth, adjusting his bag and stepping around her toward the road.

Arnack trekked through the jungle, left alone for now, maybe the scent of blood on his armour kept them away. He had shed his torn leather breastplate and bandaged his wound, nothing too serious his armour having done it’s job. In the leather’s place he wore his steel one instead, torchlight reflecting off the shiny metal at odd angles. A squawk rang out across the forest a bright light streaking through the trees lighting dozens of small fires as it passed by the canopy. It took a second for Arnack to realise what it was, a bird, a flaming bird, a Phoenix. Legend said they were made from Lasair’s essence. 

Arnack watch the bird as it circled him for then zipped off into the forest seeming to want him to follow him. A guide? Arnack led his pony amongst the brush hacking away at it with his axe and touching the torch to spider’s webs. After a short while he heard voices ahead and the Phoenix zipped off toward them. 

Soon after the voices of what seemed like two girls became clear as he stepped into a slightly clearer part of the forest where two people stood arguing over a spear. He stood by for a short while unnoticed the two seemed preoccupied with getting under each others skin. He observed them, a forest dweller and a commoner arguing in the forest while a phoenix squawked overhead, just an average day. "You wouldn't be heading north by any chance?" he asked the pair.

 Jovalyn stood like a sentinel while Sam traipsed around her. She turned to squint questioningly at the dwarf, asking quizzically, "Are you going north because some personification of a natural force told you to or because that just happens to be where the rarest gemstones are?"

Arnack chuckled at the girl's comment. "No I'm a Slayer seeking beasts and foul men to kill. Although if you've got any gemstones lying round I'll take 'em off your hands". He said with what he thought was a winning smile, probably seeming more like a grimace with his disheveled hair and dirty armour. "North's a good way to go." At this point he was unwilling to say anything about his encounter with Lasair, many people would think him crazy. "What do you say? I've got a cask of ale in here somewhere," he said patting his saddlebags invitingly.

Jovalyn squinted even harder, if that were possible, and asked incredulously, "Where?" and even more incredulously, "An entire cask?" 

To which Sam was compelled to continue, "What manner of Ale?" Being Naeri, Sam had a fondness for alcohol. Drunken fervor worked wonders for certain dances that could literally only be performed if you were drunk.

Arnack nodded solemnly "An entire cask." He said addressing the girl before turning slightly to look at the boy "Anghiem Royal, only the best of course." Arnack told him. "Name's Arnack by the way," he said outstretching his leather, gloved hand up to them.