You entered a forest filled with monsters. The exit constantly moves, you don’t age in the forest. When exiting, one person must stay unless they are the only one in the forest. Many a time you found the exit but let others leave. For the first time, someone asks how long you’ve been here.
I don’t know how many entrances there are to the forest. I know there is at least three – I entered in the mountains, and I know there are doorways near the sea and in the lowlands. But all the doors lead out to the same place. A little clearing, near the edge of the Forest, that you enter by passing between two trees. Once you are in that clearing, there is only one way to escape – you must find the Stone Door.
The Stone Door moves. Frequently
When there is no-one else within the forest, I stay near the clearing. It keeps the bigger predators away and makes it easier to find newcomers.
This group came through in the early morning. They were on foot, stumbling and gasping, fleeing from something. A tall man, in leather armour, carrying a mace. Two women, one in leather armour with a bow on her back, one in the faded tunic and trews of a peasant, who seemed unarmed. A boy, also a peasant, not more than thirteen, holding a sling like he knew how to use it. They did not even realize they’d entered the Forest, but kept stumbling on. They didn’t stop until I stepped out from between the trees. “Whatever you were fleeing from, it cannot pursue you here,” I told them.
They stopped then, and those who had weapons clutched at them. “Who… what… are you?” It was the woman with the bow who asked. “And we are being hunted, we cannot – “
I leaned on my staff – the staff topped by a skull with four spiked horns and the fangs of a predator. This tends to go faster if I show them, immediately, proof of where they are. “You are not hunted now – at least, not by anything human. You are in the Forest of Monsters, and there is only one way out.”
The man and the woman with the bow looked puzzled. The peasant woman and boy looked terrified. “The Forest of Monsters?” the woman gasped. “Oh no… oh no…” She leaped at me, clutching at my arm. “Are you the Guide? The stories say there is a Guide, someone who helps! Please, help us!” She was either very brave or very frightened – my appearance has caused several others to flee. My clothing is made from monster skins, my skin dyed blue with tattoos and stained green with leaf juices. I look half monster myself, these days.
“What is the Forest of Monsters?” The man sounded suspicious.
“It’s a between-place,” the boy said, surprising me by getting in before I could. “A magical trap. From the old days, the Magic Wars. You can get in from anywhere… but it’s hard to get out. Some people do, if the Guide helps them, but… time is different, here. People have come out years after they went in, but they haven’t aged. Haven’t changed. And plenty of them don’t come out at all.”
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