The Misty Woods

    And then the boy was left alone. Alone, amidst towering trees that stood eerily over a flat, shaded clearing of spongey moist dirt that had been devoid of leaves and the debris of a natural forest. Mist swirled around him, limiting his visibility to only a few feet past the trees in front of him, rendering the world around him in a drab, heartless shade of dark grey. Excepting the direction from which the lizard man led the boy, either of the three ways remaining seemed as good as the last...

As his hand pressed against the moist bark of the tree, he'd find that they were very real, very regular trees.. though there was something about going up to touch a tree that large that puts into perspective the sheer size of the thing. As Xin carried onwards, the trees and large boulders would pass, naturally scattered but upon unnaturally flat terrain, the sound of his footsteps, his own breath, and his heart seeming just a bit louder for lack of any other ambience.

It seemed that the trees did not mind being marked, which was decidedly a good thing. He had heard tales of trees coming to life to squish their would-be assailant or woodlands critters would come out to protect the trees. He almost felt bad for them. Counting the trees as they passed helped to keep his mind sharp as well as keep some track of progress though how long he had been wandering through the forest, he could not know. Time seemed almost to stand still in the muted grays of the wood, either the canopy or the mist had been so thick that it did not allow light to pass through. His legs were growing weary with his progress and the water skin given to him by the creature was already half empty. “At least my pack is a little lighter.” He told himself, letting out a soft chuckle. A soft whisper? It was as if the trees themselves were murmuring in protest and the sinking feeling that something was watching him. From beyond the mist, beyond the trees. The feeling was familiar enough. Though was it brought on by paranoia, or the fact that he simply wished someone or something would break up the monotony of the bleak forest. Words were lost in the mist as if spoken through water and he was sure he was hearing things.. though the dreary atmosphere was interrupted by a luminous glow beneath a nearby boulder. “Mushrooms?” A mere whisper as he moved over towards the small patch. It seemed as good a place as any to rest since he was unable to find a source of water. Xin found a spot where he could sit an lean against the boulder without disturbing the mushrooms. As he did not recognize them and knew many to be of toxic natures. “One side of the mushroom will make me grow larger, while the other smaller.” He mused, resting a hand atop his head then extending it as if trying to judge the distance he might grow. Though he knew not to believe in fairytales. He helped himself to another sip of water and some of the dried foods that had been prepared for him. Having to slide his mask to rest atop of his head. The knife buried partway into the soil next to him.

Once the boy's attention would move past the sound of his breath and his beating heart, and the sudden lack of his footsteps, this would indeed feel like a good place to rest. A signal had tried to reach the boy, but the interference of the mist left only fragments that'd reach his mind. A distant feeling that he was being watched... though no stronger than his own imagination.
There was something eerily beautiful about the soft colorful glows of the mushrooms, which formed a break in the monotony, soothing and anchoring one's mind in a sea of dreadful grey. Should he stay here long enough, nothing would come to disrupt him, and he should be able to ease into sleep without any barrier other than the fear of feeling trapped.

"Ahh, me auld trickster friend. Oi'm back. Ye'll spit me out dead t'is toime..." He said to the woods before him, looking to the woods with fondness. "Oi'm ready ta push me some daisies." The old man grunted and limped into the woods, knowing they would not speak back but they were listening... somehow. Thadius Patches was old and starting to have a hard time with bodily functions. His joints pained him, his back hurt, and he had a perpetual cough. Add to that, the inn was gone and he was tired. He wanted his death to e on his terms, possibly with his wrinkled arse bared to the world while he acted the fool. That would show them all, right?

He walked for hours, picking as many shrooms as he could, at least until he was too tired to keep going, and sat down upon a boulder with a nice looking cluster of mushrooms. He spread a nice warm blanket out and hunkered down before mushing up the shrooms with a stone, for his last tooth had fallen out days ago. Then he proceeded to eat as many as it took to get his last hurrah in.

Mists swirled the forest below, but a wall of fog also accumulated into the dense overcast sky. From a distance it would appear as though a natural phenomenon might be occurring, though any who lived near the edge would know it to be a permanent grey blemish on the horizon, even during an otherwise clear day. It was also rumored, particularly in the nearby lands of Isra and Medan, that any who entered did not return.
It wasn't common for an actual expedition to scope out, however... the tales of disappearances, happening to travelers, traders, and adventurers in ones and twos, said little about the forest itself. Given the order, it would aide the Dawn Riders immensely to comprise of riders who harbored adventurous spirits.
Should they remain airborne, it would seem they'd have the opportunity to possibly soar through the dense cloud, straight over the tops of the impossibly massive trees or clear any mountain range they blanketed with sheer altitude and determination. However, grassy areas just outside of the forest's edge also presented a staging area for an expedition on foot, and while visibility past the initial fogs were poor, nearby mountains might have a commander second-guessing what natural barriers may lie within, obscured from vision...

Stepping into the woods seemed a natural transition, from the slightly foggy edge of grassland, and into the heavily wooded realm of massive conifers that, about five minutes in, began to be replaced by even larger and wider trees, the trunks of which took on a more deciduous nature and whos canopies soared high in the fog and well out of view. What started as a rugged hike meandering through giant pines began to feel more and more surreal. The  slope of the path they trekked, mainly a hilly incline from the lower plains which seemed to promise mountains, receded until it was flat - and to some inevitable observations, impossibly so.

The environment, once they made it into the depth of the fog, was also missing other degrees of natural variation. The lack of vegetation, forest debris, local fauna, or even ambient sound, was sure to alert even the stoutest of brave hearts... The sheer monotony of massive tree trunks, their branches or canopies now fully enshrouded far above in mists that allowed only six or seven meters or visibility, and that of the dull grey boulders seen occasionally between trees, made plotting one's course or even figuring out where one was to be a maddening endeavor. For now, only their own sounds of footsteps and their own breathing or chatter could be heard, and perhaps amplified in the mind from that very effect...