There was nothing within Talon's knowledge that could make a unit of soldiers, even a small one, disappear without so much as a sound and that brought how truly little he knew into perspective. He had lived a sheltered city life and the world of magic was little else then rumor. He had always relied on the strength of his arm and his decisive actions in battle to overcome the obstacles that faced him. This....forest, this gnarled hell was a completely different level of obstacle all together and it struck the man in a way he could hardly defend against. He didn't run into a physical foe that he could test his mettle against. it chipped away at his core, denied him his peace and build within him a complete distrust of nearly everything around him. 

 Within the first few hours of stumbling through the forest he knew that he wouldn't last long. He had lost hit pack of rations almost immediately amongst the brambles and burrs then his helmet when he over the decaying corpse of someone far less lucky then he. By the end of the second day he was hungry, tired beyond his ability to cognitively understand, and bruised and/or cut on most every inch of skin on his body (some quite private). The situation was maddeningly beyond his grasp in every way… that is, everyway but one. There was something special about Talon’s resolve and, in the end, its what saved him in the Drakenwald. When his hunger made him dizzy with weakness, his will to live on kept his mind clear. When his body was weak with exhaustion, his drive kept him trudging forward and when the near constant ache of his body nauseated him with pain, sheer grit dulled his anguish and pushed him forward.

 [I]I’ll not fall…. God’s blackened body be damned…. [/I]

 His mind swarmed with such thoughts and he overcame each new obstacle with an inhuman perseverance. 

 His fourth day was his last, and thankfully so as his body was beginning to reject any attempt to progress forward that his indomitable will issued forth. During another wave of gut wrenching fear he had tripped, HARD, over a series of tree roots and hit the ground rolling head over feet. This had caused his bramble torn skin to pinch painfully beneath his chain shirt and he couldn’t help but cry out wearily in pain and one of his off balanced, wholly unplanned, tumbles had caused him to strike his head against the solid ground. Only, the ground wasn’t so solid and the feeling of terror…gone. In fact, when he stood up and blinked the tears from his eyes, he saw something very different then the natural hell he had bared witness to the past few days. He found himself in an opening in the forest, fresh with life and occupied by…well, lots of people or peopleoids. Some of the races that stood before him were well beyond his realm of knowledge and the more he thought of it the more he drew himself to a single conclusion. 

 He had died

 For a moment, one fraction of a second, Talon despaired and it was greater then any such feeling that had been forced on him in the last four days, BUT when that feeling had escaped him all he could do is smile. There was nothing to worry about at the moment and now he could rest. AS the tension melted away from his body he took in his surroundings for the first time since landing in the clearing. He noticed that the… house? That made it’s home in the center of the opening had quite the gathering pooling outside of it; more then a handful of people actually. Obviously others waiting to be judged or guided or whatever might await them all. It wasn’t any of his business what future might await them and some of them might not even care to be bothered, having died and all. So he made his way to the building in which all of these new things seem to revolve. When he reached the door he set his longsword, point down, against the threshold and unsung the shield from his back. He was far too incoherent by this time to notice that he still hurt all over and what heaven would allow it's residents to hurt? After leaning the shield against the blade of his sword he pushed the door open and swung his right foot forward towards what ever the future might hold for him.

 Every journey begins with intentionally disarming one’s self….

 Or something like that.