Necahual:
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The man is behind you now, and you feel his hands grab the knot on your blindfold, then, the ribbon slips free to reveal the scene around you. The cart is badly damaged. An axel has been thrown, and the platform is cracked in two. The horse is long gone, and what few provisions remained on the cart from the wild run are now scattered throughout the woods.

Sam is lying next to a tree with blood all over his head, and a snapped arrow in his thigh. He's breathing, but his eyes are closed and he doesn't appear to be doing much else. Examining yourself, you see that you have some minor cuts and scrapes, bruises here and there, but aren't much worse for the wear.

Looking at the bandit, you can see that he's young, almost a boy, and a little shaken. His poor quality leather armor protected him somewhat from the fall, but the left side of his face is badly scratched up and covered in dirt. He has clearly taken a few hits from the battle as well, and sections of his armor are torn from the experience, but either he is one tough nut, or the wounds are only scratches, because it hasn't slowed him down.

He's looking at you with pressed lips and furrowed brow, as if trying to figure out what to do with you. "I'm beginning to think Monk's are bad luck," he says with a nervous laugh. He looks back in the direction of the battle, which is now clear out of earshot and sight. "What's your name? Or should I just keep calling you 'girl'?" He looks back to you with a smirk, that diminishes quickly into a blush when he sees what you are wearing under your cloak. His eyes pop open and flash back up to meet your eyes. Then he almost apologetically looks away and scratches his head.


Coanacoch:
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You manage to hang on to the tree, and blink away the blinding effects of the sudden flash of light. At the end of your monologue, you feel a large grasshopper land on your shoulder and begin to crawl around to your face. When it comes into view, you can see that it's no cricket that is now perched horizontally on your chest, but some strange half-breed of elf and cricket... no doubt some member of the fey.

He has blue skin and hair the color of moss, with two long antennae that tickle your chin as it feels around at your face. He is wearing a charming little orange vest with a veiny green texture to it, making it look like an autumn leaf. The sprite is giving you a sad, puppy dog expression.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Coanacoch of the Amedio Jungle. Fear not. You will not be turned into a newt this day. It's just a deception I use to protect my family. But it sounds like you're the one who needs protecting. Greetings, Coanacoch of the Amedio Jungle!" He extends a hand, then retracts it, seeing that your hands are already busy trying to stay connected to the tree. "My name his Nib. If you'd be so kind as to hop off my home, I might be able to help you find your way."


At the Shrine:
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You pack up your belongings and march onward, leaving the sanctuary behind. It will take several hours of marching to get to the bridge, but you find strength in your legs for the journey. It's still a bit chilly out, but the sun is high in the sky and the hills make for a surrealistically peaceful backdrop against the violence you've so recently experienced.

(Sorry, things will speed up once I've got C & N's stories moving again. Give me a couple more posts.)