Encounterlogs
Selinas Odd Encounter Sr Tabitha 240325
Selina, an adventurer with experience in a world where the fantastical and dangerous coexist, finds herself on Perdition's Passage, a secluded road cutting through dense forest. Despite her precautions and awe for the natural world, she senses an ominous presence, a feeling that intensifies as she encounters a ghastly apparition, a banshee or wraith, which immediately assails her. As she assesses her situation without conventional weapons at her disposal, her instincts kick in. She tries to evade the creature, questioning its summoner and attempting to avoid its touch, a dance of survival under the haunting howls of the wind and the ghostly tug leading her deeper away from the road and into a darker fate.
The spirit's relentless pursuit drives Selina off the path, her desperate attempts to resist illustrated through her struggle to maintain control of her body against the spectral force. Her quick thinking leads her to encapsulate herself in ice, slowing her movement but at the cost of her warmth in the freezing temperatures. Hearing a whisper, "Find me," she ventures deeper into the woods, finding herself in a copse littered with remains and facing the harrowing truth of the spirit's lonely, tragic existence. In a desperate bid to exorcise the wraith, she constructs a makeshift ritual in the natural circle of the copse, channeling energy through the trees. Her powerful command, "Begone, spirits!" finally liberates her from the wraith's grasp, but leaves her far from safety, alone amid the dense mists of the forest, pondering her path back to the world she knows.
(Selina's odd encounter(SRTabitha):SRTabitha)
[Sun Mar 24 2024]
On Perdition's Passage
Tucked away, this secluded dirt road cuts through the dense embrace of the forest. It's barely a two-lane path, whispering of civilization rather than declaring it. This narrow ribbon of packed down earth is carved beneath a canopy of old trees, with their branches forming a living tunnel above the compacted soil. Here and there, the roadway is interrupted by roots that snake across the surface, creating natural speed bumps that demand cautious navigation.
It is morning, about 36F(2C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. It's snowing.
(Your target is possessed by an angry spirit that is forcing them to act out and putting themselves and/or others at risk. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
Selina has sneaked out to the northern part of the forest, keeping low and trying to avoid being seen by those possibly in the houses she has passed along the way. She has a compass out in one hand, to make sure she does not fall into any kind of mishap. She is bundled up against the cold, including gloves and a scarf to assist in maintaining her heat. Despite all of this preparation however, she looks at the forest with abject wonder and awe, listening and even sniffing in ways that those more familiar with the local might not.
Perditions Passage. It is quite the name for a road. If it can even be called such. The trees branches lace together to form a braided canopy above Selina's head, that only allows dappled early spring sunlight to filter through. It is a dark passage, full of treachery for one who is not being as careful as Selina. At least in the sense of taking in her environment with the awe and wonder that it does truly deserve. The woods surrounding Haven are full of unique and ... also questionable things. The wind howls through the trees, sounding not like a roar of medieval dragon's or horsedrawn carts, but of a mournful song. Haunting, eerie, concerning. Yet beautiful.
Selina feels a tingle tickling up the back of her neck as the wind howls through the trees. It serves to make her more alert, focused. She finds the nearest tree to put her back against and narrows her gaze as she looks around, with her eyes, not her head. She listens, intently to her surroundings and the wind. Her lips press into a thin scowl as she does so, but otherwise, she becomes a motionless part of her environment, trying to meld with the tree and snow, though her blue clothing hampers this. After a few moments, she pulls up her scarf to hide the lower half of her face and limit how much her visible breath in the air might give away her position.
These things, all the tricks of a trade to remain inconspicuous that Selina has learned in her years-- while they would be useful for a foe that is of a corporeal nature. The kobold she let go, come back with some friends, a boar-headed creature seeking to help get her lost within the maze of the nearby passage, a will-o-wisp temping her in a dance f light, laughter, and promises of fulfilled desires. No this is nothing of the sort. What prickles and tingles at the back of Selina's neck is something ominous. She can not see it nor hear it, but it is near. So. Very. Near.
Selina schools her breathing and slowly crouches down, still not familiar with whatever it is that is coming for her. She shifts her way around the tree in those same motions, getting different views of her surroundings, without really leaving the road. Or at least, able to reach it again with little issue if she tempts out creatures from the mists. She tucks away the compass into a pocket, already having consulted it for the nearby gates to avoid that folly at least. She does not have weapons or armor out here, perhaps she was that confident of her ability to hide.
It is for a brief moment of time, as Selina stands still and quiet, unable to blend in with her surroundings with the clothing she wears, that whatever it is that has taken to stalking her along Perdition, takes shape. The apparition appears before her, all the energy sucked from the place for it, a banshee of sorts, a wraith, a long lost soul trapped between worlds, screams. Fingers made into claws from flesh long eaten away by hungry little forest critters and time itself make to reach for Selina, nab her. Grab at her, and for that moment of time, the scarf is tugged, snagged, and dragged from the woman's mouth.
What sort of weapons, truly, are there, to combat these sorts of things? Selina knows. She comes from a world where the fantastical are just a part of life.
But! Selina should work swift, as her brain does, as that prickle... It remains. And that brain, thoughts do begin to jumble.
Selina reacts on instinct and spins away and reaches for a weapon that is not at her hip. Her gaze narrows further as she does not find it there. Not that it would do much good against the restless dead. When she gets eyes on the source of her torment, she lets out a curse of sorts, though not one likely understood by people of earth. She goes into defensive mode, ducking away from the apparition. She warily tries to maintain some distance from the creature and most specifically, avoiding its touch. "What necromancer summoned you?" she asks it curiously, dancing away from it as well as she can.
Running will only does so much good, when the villian is something that can be run from. How do you outrun the wind? How do you outrun your head? Selina's feet begin to move on their own accord, despite herself. They are awkward, as if she is not accustomed to running. It is leading her off the safety of the road, where the magic of Haven protects, even should that protection falter and be false when the mists rise. As her thoughts race to her quest, her journey, and her test, as well as her skills to complete these, her body is beyond her control.
"No, no," Selina says, trying to will her body back toward the safety of the road. She tries to grab at trees, branches, brush, anything she can to try to keep herself from being dragged away from the road. "Possession?" she asks more to herself with a sigh, trying to figure out a way around that. She looks around for someone else that can detain her, but sadly, she was out deep in the forest by herself. She does have something she can do with a quick bit of her will: She starts to coat herself in ice and frost to slow her movement down, and also to help in case a creature comes along to attack her, making them chip away at the ice before actually hurting her.
Selina's steps do slow given that she has encapulated herself in ice, but also ... she has encapsulated herself in ice. Quick thinking on her part, but perhaps it is not the best option to have taken when the weather is already still cold like winter. Her teeth start to chatter. Her fingers start to turn red. They ache, the skin hardened. Her toes tingle, feeling slowly disappearing. Those chattering teeth stop their clatter, and it is not long until she looses a terrible scream. Not of her own voice. A warbling, sorrowful, pained scream that, luckily for Selina is muffled through the lattice of trees. The birds nesting take flight. Their wings a bass beat to the wailing song that she's forced to sing.
Selina does not have any exorcism spells handy apparently, but as she faces the consequences of her icy counter to the ghostly possession, she starts working on the next step. After the scream escapes her lungs, she tries to ask, "Did you feel that, or are you just sad?" Does she think she can negotiate with the possessing specter? Perhaps. Or she is just buying time to figure out the next thing she will do to it. She tries to direct her foot steps back toward the road as well as she can against the possession.
Though Selina fights the wraith that has taken over her, she finds that when she can will herself to take a step back, she is forced to take two steps forward. A stall, for certain, but it is not a full stop.
While binding the spirit may work, it is still inside of Selina. Would it bind her along with it, leaving her solid, frozen in place along with the spirit? Something already dead. She has no binding circle, even, but that can be rectified, no? To draw upon the weather, have a circle formed in various mediums?
In Selina's head, there is a woman's voice. It is a whisper. "Find me.." Though this request? It could mean that she has to go further into the woods, deep and dark. Where now animals do start to wander, drawn in by the wings of frightened birds. There is a feeling of lonesomeness and abandonment that fills Selina's soul. Does it also whisper, "Join me?"
Selina continues to struggle with the ghost in the one step back, two steps forward three step dance. She looks around when she hears the voice, but does not see any discernible source immediately. She has most of her will focused on stopping the ghostly, disjointed staggering walk into the woods. "I don't think I can," she says in response to whomever addressed her, shaking her head.
"Find me!" the wraith screams in Selina's head. Her feet carry her off into the woods, and though she is in some marrionette's waltz with Death itself, she is relatively stealthy, so it does at least help. And perhaps that kobold she let alone would return the favour? The admittal of Selina in that she does not think that she can help. Or maybe it was join? Want to and forced to are two different things, and Selina is a ways off from the road at this point. Deeper she goes and the forest grows denser, denser. Until it opens to a copse.
Selina keeps fighting against the wraith, but eventually ends up in the copse, looking around with her eyes as much as possible. "Why?" she inquires as she is forced that direction. She is out of ideas for how to stop the ghostly trespasser, but she keeps trying to find ways out of it. She does not repeat the chilling experience from earlier though, as her fingers and toes are still quite numb from it, despite her warm clothing. "What would I even do if I did?" she asks to try to get the ghost talking more perhaps.
The copse is littered with bones. Animal. Human. Some corpses. Many in various states of decomposition. The smell of death is strong here, filling Selina's nose with its acrid rot. Some are men, but it is mostly women here, those that she can tell. A few look to be half eaten. One looks to have had her stomach burst wide open. Her intestine spills in a goopy slop from it, over her thigh and onto the ground. Her skin is discolored, blackened along the backs of her legs and rear where all the blood has pooled. She is propped up against a tree, and the roots have worked its way around her ankles to hold her in place. A birth? But ... of what? At least it appears that whatever it was, its gone now. Selina's hand lifts, numbly, shaking, and points. "For company." She points to a pile of bones.
Are Selina's options really expended? Surely not. Binding may not be an option, though ... is a copse not a circle? Can she not still put at least this one ghost at rest? Before she finds herself at rest with it? More scanning of the place would reveal that while some of the bodies here have been dragged here by something large, some appear to have simply ... walked.
"I'm not good company," Selina explains helpfully, as she takes in the small graveyard. At least, it answers the unasked question about where a ghost came from this deep in the woods. She focuses on keeping her breathing under control and not vomiting with the stench and visual viscera before her. Even as an accomplished adventurer, such scenes are not super common. Not unheard of, but not common. As she comes to a stop in the circle though, she looks around and says, "And it looks like you have plenty." Obviously with that many corpses present, the ghost had a lot over time. She starts focusing on the circle of trees. It is likely not perfectly circular, but close enough for a desperate ritual without preparation.
As Selina would know, remnants of souls do not always linger. Some move on, wherever they do. The energy dispels. The memory fades. The soul enters heaven or hell, or the version of either that the person believed in. A perpetual dream. "Gone," the whisper echoes in her head. But by the wail of the wind, carrying the somber sound and and the stink of bloated gut and sticky blood, something else exists here.
It is not a perfect cirle, but what circle truly is? It is, at least, a tool.
Selina likely has very different views of death than most in Haven. She holds her hands out to the nearest trees and lets some of the energy she has been building up channel into them, seeping into the roots and transferring to the other nearby trees via said root system. Soon, she has formed the basis for the real circle. "As they should be," she says back to the voice, shaking her head slowly. When next she speaks, she does so in a completely unearthly language, her alien words assisting in the channeling of power into the circle to direct the current. When she finishes the short litany, she unleashes the flood and says, forcefully and as cold as the air around her, "Begone, spirits!"
Selina would feel, as she chants, that the wraith that had dragged her there into the copse is forced from her body. In fact, the pull of the two souls is physical, making her bend over, and backward, in some unique way that should not truly be humanly possible. And when the two are again two, the wraith takes its physical form to try and lash out. Yes, the woman is hit with the weight of the world, and the panic she feels? Heightened as the figure lashes out. Again, the mostly corporeal form of a woman, whose own stomach is burst open, its entrails trailing, runs at a speed inhumane, hands outstretched to take hold of Selina's neck. But before the banshee can make contact with her neck, to squeeze and pop, it suddenly disappates into a fog of mist.
The howl of the wind does not stop though, in Selina's round ears. Though, it could very well be just the rush of her blood as her heart races.
Selina lets out a startlingly agonized scream of her own as she fires off the spell and the ghostly opponent poofs out of existence. She staggers away from the ghastly scene on pure reflex and instinct, finding a tree nearby for a place to get her balance and catch her breath. She scans the copse again to make sure nothing else is after her, prepared to fight more if needed or just collect herself to prepare to head back to the road.
Selina is a long way from the road. The wraith having led her deep into the woods where this mists creep and crawl not only around the ankles, or waists. It is thick, that even with her elfin eyes she can not quite pierce. Which way was she even led? There is nothing to help her determine it. No marker. No light. No voices. She is, afterall, alone, even if in the company of corpses and skeletons.
Selina finishes catching her breath and prepares to work her way back. Even in the thick mist, she knows ways to get back. The nightmare and dreams seems the safest. Maybe not the swiftest, but at least she can get back to something resembling civilization in relatively short order.
The spirit's relentless pursuit drives Selina off the path, her desperate attempts to resist illustrated through her struggle to maintain control of her body against the spectral force. Her quick thinking leads her to encapsulate herself in ice, slowing her movement but at the cost of her warmth in the freezing temperatures. Hearing a whisper, "Find me," she ventures deeper into the woods, finding herself in a copse littered with remains and facing the harrowing truth of the spirit's lonely, tragic existence. In a desperate bid to exorcise the wraith, she constructs a makeshift ritual in the natural circle of the copse, channeling energy through the trees. Her powerful command, "Begone, spirits!" finally liberates her from the wraith's grasp, but leaves her far from safety, alone amid the dense mists of the forest, pondering her path back to the world she knows.
(Selina's odd encounter(SRTabitha):SRTabitha)
[Sun Mar 24 2024]
On Perdition's Passage
Tucked away, this secluded dirt road cuts through the dense embrace of the forest. It's barely a two-lane path, whispering of civilization rather than declaring it. This narrow ribbon of packed down earth is carved beneath a canopy of old trees, with their branches forming a living tunnel above the compacted soil. Here and there, the roadway is interrupted by roots that snake across the surface, creating natural speed bumps that demand cautious navigation.
It is morning, about 36F(2C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. It's snowing.
(Your target is possessed by an angry spirit that is forcing them to act out and putting themselves and/or others at risk. They must either defeat it or find a way to calm it down.
)
Selina has sneaked out to the northern part of the forest, keeping low and trying to avoid being seen by those possibly in the houses she has passed along the way. She has a compass out in one hand, to make sure she does not fall into any kind of mishap. She is bundled up against the cold, including gloves and a scarf to assist in maintaining her heat. Despite all of this preparation however, she looks at the forest with abject wonder and awe, listening and even sniffing in ways that those more familiar with the local might not.
Perditions Passage. It is quite the name for a road. If it can even be called such. The trees branches lace together to form a braided canopy above Selina's head, that only allows dappled early spring sunlight to filter through. It is a dark passage, full of treachery for one who is not being as careful as Selina. At least in the sense of taking in her environment with the awe and wonder that it does truly deserve. The woods surrounding Haven are full of unique and ... also questionable things. The wind howls through the trees, sounding not like a roar of medieval dragon's or horsedrawn carts, but of a mournful song. Haunting, eerie, concerning. Yet beautiful.
Selina feels a tingle tickling up the back of her neck as the wind howls through the trees. It serves to make her more alert, focused. She finds the nearest tree to put her back against and narrows her gaze as she looks around, with her eyes, not her head. She listens, intently to her surroundings and the wind. Her lips press into a thin scowl as she does so, but otherwise, she becomes a motionless part of her environment, trying to meld with the tree and snow, though her blue clothing hampers this. After a few moments, she pulls up her scarf to hide the lower half of her face and limit how much her visible breath in the air might give away her position.
These things, all the tricks of a trade to remain inconspicuous that Selina has learned in her years-- while they would be useful for a foe that is of a corporeal nature. The kobold she let go, come back with some friends, a boar-headed creature seeking to help get her lost within the maze of the nearby passage, a will-o-wisp temping her in a dance f light, laughter, and promises of fulfilled desires. No this is nothing of the sort. What prickles and tingles at the back of Selina's neck is something ominous. She can not see it nor hear it, but it is near. So. Very. Near.
Selina schools her breathing and slowly crouches down, still not familiar with whatever it is that is coming for her. She shifts her way around the tree in those same motions, getting different views of her surroundings, without really leaving the road. Or at least, able to reach it again with little issue if she tempts out creatures from the mists. She tucks away the compass into a pocket, already having consulted it for the nearby gates to avoid that folly at least. She does not have weapons or armor out here, perhaps she was that confident of her ability to hide.
It is for a brief moment of time, as Selina stands still and quiet, unable to blend in with her surroundings with the clothing she wears, that whatever it is that has taken to stalking her along Perdition, takes shape. The apparition appears before her, all the energy sucked from the place for it, a banshee of sorts, a wraith, a long lost soul trapped between worlds, screams. Fingers made into claws from flesh long eaten away by hungry little forest critters and time itself make to reach for Selina, nab her. Grab at her, and for that moment of time, the scarf is tugged, snagged, and dragged from the woman's mouth.
What sort of weapons, truly, are there, to combat these sorts of things? Selina knows. She comes from a world where the fantastical are just a part of life.
But! Selina should work swift, as her brain does, as that prickle... It remains. And that brain, thoughts do begin to jumble.
Selina reacts on instinct and spins away and reaches for a weapon that is not at her hip. Her gaze narrows further as she does not find it there. Not that it would do much good against the restless dead. When she gets eyes on the source of her torment, she lets out a curse of sorts, though not one likely understood by people of earth. She goes into defensive mode, ducking away from the apparition. She warily tries to maintain some distance from the creature and most specifically, avoiding its touch. "What necromancer summoned you?" she asks it curiously, dancing away from it as well as she can.
Running will only does so much good, when the villian is something that can be run from. How do you outrun the wind? How do you outrun your head? Selina's feet begin to move on their own accord, despite herself. They are awkward, as if she is not accustomed to running. It is leading her off the safety of the road, where the magic of Haven protects, even should that protection falter and be false when the mists rise. As her thoughts race to her quest, her journey, and her test, as well as her skills to complete these, her body is beyond her control.
"No, no," Selina says, trying to will her body back toward the safety of the road. She tries to grab at trees, branches, brush, anything she can to try to keep herself from being dragged away from the road. "Possession?" she asks more to herself with a sigh, trying to figure out a way around that. She looks around for someone else that can detain her, but sadly, she was out deep in the forest by herself. She does have something she can do with a quick bit of her will: She starts to coat herself in ice and frost to slow her movement down, and also to help in case a creature comes along to attack her, making them chip away at the ice before actually hurting her.
Selina's steps do slow given that she has encapulated herself in ice, but also ... she has encapsulated herself in ice. Quick thinking on her part, but perhaps it is not the best option to have taken when the weather is already still cold like winter. Her teeth start to chatter. Her fingers start to turn red. They ache, the skin hardened. Her toes tingle, feeling slowly disappearing. Those chattering teeth stop their clatter, and it is not long until she looses a terrible scream. Not of her own voice. A warbling, sorrowful, pained scream that, luckily for Selina is muffled through the lattice of trees. The birds nesting take flight. Their wings a bass beat to the wailing song that she's forced to sing.
Selina does not have any exorcism spells handy apparently, but as she faces the consequences of her icy counter to the ghostly possession, she starts working on the next step. After the scream escapes her lungs, she tries to ask, "Did you feel that, or are you just sad?" Does she think she can negotiate with the possessing specter? Perhaps. Or she is just buying time to figure out the next thing she will do to it. She tries to direct her foot steps back toward the road as well as she can against the possession.
Though Selina fights the wraith that has taken over her, she finds that when she can will herself to take a step back, she is forced to take two steps forward. A stall, for certain, but it is not a full stop.
While binding the spirit may work, it is still inside of Selina. Would it bind her along with it, leaving her solid, frozen in place along with the spirit? Something already dead. She has no binding circle, even, but that can be rectified, no? To draw upon the weather, have a circle formed in various mediums?
In Selina's head, there is a woman's voice. It is a whisper. "Find me.." Though this request? It could mean that she has to go further into the woods, deep and dark. Where now animals do start to wander, drawn in by the wings of frightened birds. There is a feeling of lonesomeness and abandonment that fills Selina's soul. Does it also whisper, "Join me?"
Selina continues to struggle with the ghost in the one step back, two steps forward three step dance. She looks around when she hears the voice, but does not see any discernible source immediately. She has most of her will focused on stopping the ghostly, disjointed staggering walk into the woods. "I don't think I can," she says in response to whomever addressed her, shaking her head.
"Find me!" the wraith screams in Selina's head. Her feet carry her off into the woods, and though she is in some marrionette's waltz with Death itself, she is relatively stealthy, so it does at least help. And perhaps that kobold she let alone would return the favour? The admittal of Selina in that she does not think that she can help. Or maybe it was join? Want to and forced to are two different things, and Selina is a ways off from the road at this point. Deeper she goes and the forest grows denser, denser. Until it opens to a copse.
Selina keeps fighting against the wraith, but eventually ends up in the copse, looking around with her eyes as much as possible. "Why?" she inquires as she is forced that direction. She is out of ideas for how to stop the ghostly trespasser, but she keeps trying to find ways out of it. She does not repeat the chilling experience from earlier though, as her fingers and toes are still quite numb from it, despite her warm clothing. "What would I even do if I did?" she asks to try to get the ghost talking more perhaps.
The copse is littered with bones. Animal. Human. Some corpses. Many in various states of decomposition. The smell of death is strong here, filling Selina's nose with its acrid rot. Some are men, but it is mostly women here, those that she can tell. A few look to be half eaten. One looks to have had her stomach burst wide open. Her intestine spills in a goopy slop from it, over her thigh and onto the ground. Her skin is discolored, blackened along the backs of her legs and rear where all the blood has pooled. She is propped up against a tree, and the roots have worked its way around her ankles to hold her in place. A birth? But ... of what? At least it appears that whatever it was, its gone now. Selina's hand lifts, numbly, shaking, and points. "For company." She points to a pile of bones.
Are Selina's options really expended? Surely not. Binding may not be an option, though ... is a copse not a circle? Can she not still put at least this one ghost at rest? Before she finds herself at rest with it? More scanning of the place would reveal that while some of the bodies here have been dragged here by something large, some appear to have simply ... walked.
"I'm not good company," Selina explains helpfully, as she takes in the small graveyard. At least, it answers the unasked question about where a ghost came from this deep in the woods. She focuses on keeping her breathing under control and not vomiting with the stench and visual viscera before her. Even as an accomplished adventurer, such scenes are not super common. Not unheard of, but not common. As she comes to a stop in the circle though, she looks around and says, "And it looks like you have plenty." Obviously with that many corpses present, the ghost had a lot over time. She starts focusing on the circle of trees. It is likely not perfectly circular, but close enough for a desperate ritual without preparation.
As Selina would know, remnants of souls do not always linger. Some move on, wherever they do. The energy dispels. The memory fades. The soul enters heaven or hell, or the version of either that the person believed in. A perpetual dream. "Gone," the whisper echoes in her head. But by the wail of the wind, carrying the somber sound and and the stink of bloated gut and sticky blood, something else exists here.
It is not a perfect cirle, but what circle truly is? It is, at least, a tool.
Selina likely has very different views of death than most in Haven. She holds her hands out to the nearest trees and lets some of the energy she has been building up channel into them, seeping into the roots and transferring to the other nearby trees via said root system. Soon, she has formed the basis for the real circle. "As they should be," she says back to the voice, shaking her head slowly. When next she speaks, she does so in a completely unearthly language, her alien words assisting in the channeling of power into the circle to direct the current. When she finishes the short litany, she unleashes the flood and says, forcefully and as cold as the air around her, "Begone, spirits!"
Selina would feel, as she chants, that the wraith that had dragged her there into the copse is forced from her body. In fact, the pull of the two souls is physical, making her bend over, and backward, in some unique way that should not truly be humanly possible. And when the two are again two, the wraith takes its physical form to try and lash out. Yes, the woman is hit with the weight of the world, and the panic she feels? Heightened as the figure lashes out. Again, the mostly corporeal form of a woman, whose own stomach is burst open, its entrails trailing, runs at a speed inhumane, hands outstretched to take hold of Selina's neck. But before the banshee can make contact with her neck, to squeeze and pop, it suddenly disappates into a fog of mist.
The howl of the wind does not stop though, in Selina's round ears. Though, it could very well be just the rush of her blood as her heart races.
Selina lets out a startlingly agonized scream of her own as she fires off the spell and the ghostly opponent poofs out of existence. She staggers away from the ghastly scene on pure reflex and instinct, finding a tree nearby for a place to get her balance and catch her breath. She scans the copse again to make sure nothing else is after her, prepared to fight more if needed or just collect herself to prepare to head back to the road.
Selina is a long way from the road. The wraith having led her deep into the woods where this mists creep and crawl not only around the ankles, or waists. It is thick, that even with her elfin eyes she can not quite pierce. Which way was she even led? There is nothing to help her determine it. No marker. No light. No voices. She is, afterall, alone, even if in the company of corpses and skeletons.
Selina finishes catching her breath and prepares to work her way back. Even in the thick mist, she knows ways to get back. The nightmare and dreams seems the safest. Maybe not the swiftest, but at least she can get back to something resembling civilization in relatively short order.