The group had gotten an opportunity to gather some information on their mission’s objective, but morning arrived swiftly. In the distance, the forest from the day before still smoldered, though by now the blaze had mostly run its course.

Neese was in attendance, along with a smattering of the villagers. At her side were two familiar faces: Orson and Shiris, the two who had rode out to meet the crew earlier. Shiris looked vaguely mutinous as she clutched a cloth-covered parcel; Orson merely stood back a few paces from Neese, tending to a group of horses the village had provided for their use. The animals seemed a little skittish, as if they knew their destination, but were otherwise well-behaved.

Neese raised the long white staff in her hand, closing her eyes as if in prayer. “Marfa, goddess of creation, bestow your divine protection on these travelers. Guide them to their destination, and shield them from harm.” In response, a soft, warm light suffused the area; the crew would find their bodies just a little lighter, their stamina restored, and their anxieties soothed.

With that, she lowered her hands, blessing completed. “May you find your journey swift and safe,” she said somberly.

And with that, they were off.

Orson helped those of the crew that were amenable onto a horse, giving them some basic instruction on how to steer the animal or tell it to halt. For the most part, however, the horses knew what they were doing. There might have been a slightly uncooperative animal in there. Or two. But you know, for the most part.

Planet Designation: Forcellia
Status: Terrestrial, H-class.
Non-sentient life: Extensive flora and fauna.
Semi-Sentient Life: Yes.
Sentient Life: Homo Sapiens.
Water: 69.5% of the planet's surface.
Climate: Earth-like
Landscape: Varied.
Air: Normoxic concentration.
Air Pressure: 101.3 kPa (kilopascals) = 14.7 psi (pounds per square inch)
Sky: Blue, with variable cloud cover.
Sun: A class G2V, yellow star.
Warnings: Wildlife and plant-life can be hazardous. Humans can be hazardous.
Mission: Negotiate for or otherwise obtain the artifact known as the Scepter of Domination.

Forcellia, or at least the part of it that contained the clearing in which the group now found themselves, wasn't exactly welcoming. The ground was little more than rocky soil, the sky violet-grey and overcast. Here, it was evidently late afternoon, edging into evening. It was slightly humid, as if from a recent rain; faint clouds of steamy mist seemed to curl off the ground, partially obscuring their view of their surroundings. Scraggly trees rose up out of this mist here and there, as if grasping towards fresher air.

The villagers in the area had supposedly been contacted ahead of time, and this had been the place they’d agreed to meet the crew. Whether or not they knew anything about this supposed Scepter of Domination, however, was not yet clear. What the Scepter even did or how it might contribute to their struggle was even less clear.

In the distance, they might hear the occasional whinny of a horse, or the lowing of a cow carrying up to them from the distance, though it was difficult, if not impossible, to tell from which direction the sound was coming from.