Robin approaches the clearing by the ravine, and finds it occupied by armed men.  She spots the sentry first, and can tell that he's watching the path that she's not on.  Robin can smell horses from where she stops.  It could be a small encampment.  The sentry isn't very good, but he's awake and alert, which is better than some she's seen.

The Ranger's eyes narrow as they (and her nose) take in the scene.  However, she is trying to get moving *finally!* so she looks for her best bet to circle the possible encampment and the definite sentries to get to the other side of the clearing and Avid's old maybe-trail.

Robin is very capable of skirting the sentries and avoiding the encampment.  She moves lithely and quietly around them and passes a trail leading into the forest.  The horse-trail seems to have been well-travelled by iron-shod hooves.  The maybe-trail is there, maybe.  It trails off a bit ahead of the part she sees, in the tell-tale way of a path that leads into shadow.
            Robin could follow it.  Her instinct tells her it goes into the deep green.

The Ranger nods to herself.  As much fun as tangling with well-mounted men and alert sentries would be, it's the Deep Green for her.  Robin settles her pack, makes sure her weapons are ready and within easy reach and sets off down the fading path.

If the path were a living thing, it would be a serpent, twisting and hiding in the green, and writing in Robin's talons as she tries to grasp it.  At every obstacle it would be easiest to go around and lose the trail.  When Robin looks behind her the path is very clear.
            She finds herself in parts of the deep green that she has long avoided, places where the trees may not follow the rhythms of life that she has grown up with, places where there is more magic than she has experienced.
            The trail leads through a battlefield.

Robin stops in the shadow of the trees just on the edge of the battlefield, her form blending into the forest around her, her green eyes narrowed in concentration, her sense strung high as she looks out over the area.  Someone is definitely presenting her with a challenge, and while there's nothing that the girl enjoys more than a challenge, several people have pointedly told her to stay safe.

Humans, horses, and centaurs lie scattered on the field.  The weapons and armor look primitive by Amber standards,  It's hard to tell who was fighting who.  The fight happened within the last day or two, Robin thinks.  There are a few items that could have been made in Amber or some other city, but even that isn't sure.
            The crows ignore Robin, except when she approaches one of their perches.
            It strikes Robin that in the normal course of battle one side would have been victorious and at least buried their dead.  It's not clear that that happened.

The Ranger blows a breath out in measuring thought.  Yep, times are definitely warming up in old Arcadia.  But her track leads *through* the carnage, so that's where she must go.
            Robin gets low to the ground, practically on all fours though she is still favoring her right arm.  Slowly and in an uneven pattern the Ranger eases out of the shadows and across the battlefield. 
             Crows.  Not the most understanding of avians, even at the best of times.  Still Robin makes the effort not to mess with their various territories and prizes as best as she can.  And chucks and caws to them in recognition when it's unavoidable.

"Through" may be the wrong word.  Onto is certainly right, and Robin sees signs that indicate that the battle went back and forth several times.  It's quite possible that the group Robin was following charged onto the battlefield in a reinforcing flanking move, because things seem to pivot that way.  The good news is that Breeze isn't amongst the casualties.  Robin recognizes one, though, a girl named Fortune who lived near Arden in Garnath.  Her father was at Wind Grove.

'Tchh,' Robin can't help the little unhappy sound that comes from her as she looks over Fortune's corpse.  One gentle hand brushes the mud-encrusted hair away from Fortune's forehead and Robin closes the girl's empty eyes.  Under her breath she whispers "Unicorn be with you."  In the place of Prayers, Robin hopes... what?  She doesn't know, never having believed in such silliness as souls or afterlives.
            The Ranger looks back over the battlefield with bleak eyes and wonders how many more of Garnath's folk she's going to find out here.  But she doesn't have time to bury one girl or one battlefield.  Ever a Ranger, her cause is for the living, not the dead.
            With quiet slinking steps, ever mindful of the crows, Robin edges toward the perimeter of the battlefield, hoping to pick up the trail of some retreating wildmen.

It is some hours later that Robin comes across a campsite.  She is far enough away to see what is happening without attracting attention, but the precaution seems unnecessary, since the occupants of the camp are not watching their perimeter.
            Near the fire, there are four people tied up and gagged.  On the far side of the fire are two centuars.  They seem to be arguing.
            Robin could get close enough to listen, and maybe to look at the prisoners, if she chose to do so.

'Centaurs... tricky,' thinks the Ranger.  Stronger ears than sense of smell, still pretty perceptive bunch, even when arguing.  But a look at the prisoners is vital, whereas overhearing a dispute between locals is less so.
            Robin concentrates on sneaking in such a way to get a good look at the prisoners without stepping on anything noisy or letting the wind carry her scent to the centaurs.

Robin isn't the only one with this idea.  As she approaches, she sees three men far De'gauche, watching the camp and looking as if they are considering a charge.  Unless she's wrong, one of them is Breeze.  He certainly moves like the missing ranger, and he's a better woodsman than the other two.  The prisoners, three women and a man, are not familiar to her.

Timing it with the centaurs words, so that her sign doesn't occur in the middle of a conversational silence, Robin raps out on a nearby tree trunk 'Breeze.  Hold.'  And then, quickly moves away from her position in a looping course that will bring her to the chargers.
            [OOC - Are the three men across the clearing from Robin?]

            [If the clearing is a clockface, then Robin is at 6, the men are at 10, and the centaurs and tied up women are in the little sunlight/moonlight picture wheel thingy at the top of face, under the 12.]

As Robin moves through the woods to meet the men, she hears a very sloppy reply come back.  'Immediate Danger, Devant mine'

[You're the uber-Ranger.  You can approach before they decide what to do... :)]

The whisper of a wind, perhaps a touch of green that might be the falling of a leave, that's all Robin is as she moves through the forest at speed toward the trio of wildmen.  The Ranger keeps an eye on the centaurs, just in case the argument gets decided and they start breaking the heads of their prisoners.  In which case the Ranger will turn her path to the d'droit pretty darn quick.

Robin's arrival, as described, is silent and rapid.  Breeze looks well, although he hasn't repaired his torn clothing.  He looks puzzled to see her, as if she were a character from a recurring dream, come to life.  The other two are less prepared for a sudden arrival, and one steps backwards onto a branch.  The crack sounds like a gunshot to Robin, and is also clearly audible to the Centaurs.  They stop arguing and turn to look at the forest where Robin and Breeze are standing.

"Shit."  Robin spares the time to glare at the unfortunate wildman before hissing to Breeze, "Stay here."
            Then Robin advances toward the centaurs slowly with her hands held out from her sides and away from her (visible) weapons.  Her expression is one of wary respect.  She's not looking for a fight right now, but she's not afraid either.

The other two don't seem to understand, but Breeze holds them back.  Robin moves to the edge of the clearing.  The centaur, who looks from the waist up to be a middle aged man, shouts to her.  Robin thinks that if he didn't have the body of a horse, she could've mistaken him for a slightly pot-bellied blacksmith.
            She doesn't understand the words that he says, but the tone is (at best) wary.

"I don't speak your language."  Robin responds to the centaur's shout, her own voice carrying and sure.  "I am Robin of Arden.  I would parlay for the possession of your prisoners."
            While keeping her hands in a neutral position, the Ranger nods toward the bound wildfolk.

They seem confused and clearly don't comprehend Robin's words.  They do note that she isn't attacking and she isn't fleeing, though.  They look wary and while they lower weapons, they do not put them away.  They seem prone to disagreement, since it sounds like they're disagreeing again, in whatever language it is they speak.  It looks like speech isn't going to work here.

The Ranger cocks her head and, with an inaudible sigh of frustration, resorts to pantomime.  Her gauntleted hands gesture to the four bound prisoners, scooping them to herself and then 'walking' off into the forest in a direction carefully not back towards the battlefield or forward along the centaurs' chosen path.
            The girl follows that with a gesture toward the centaurs, a wide opening of the hands and a questioning expression on her face, and then a 'galloping' gesture that follows the centaurs' previous course.  She ends with a flat 'there you have it' line to her mouth.

They seem to have gotten the message, or some message. The older centaur (or the one whose human half looks older, in any case) moves between Robin and the prisoners and crosses his arm.  The younger one moves to the side and gestures towards Robin and directs her away.
            The centaurs do not hear the wild men moving towards the edge of the woods, but Robin does.

"Well, dung."  Robin mutters.  Okay, one more nice diplomatic try and then she'll do things her way.  Time to see if Adonis has set her up.
            The Ranger draws herself up and rests her hand casually on her sword hilt.  An ironic half-smile lines her mouth and Robin becomes the Scion of Amber she is.  Her father's and his father's heritage fills her being with luminous power.  Her own nature tints that power green with wildness.  She touches her chest with a gauntleted hand.
            "Sister of Pholus.  Being nice here.  Don't waste it."  Robin's voice is steady and confident, not so much commanding as informing.

They look at Robin, even more hesitant as she draw upon her heritage, they seem worried when she invokes the name of Pholus with her odd tongue, and they bolt like herbivores when the three wildmen rush the clearing.
            The wild men whoop and start to give chase.

Robin's eyebrows go up.  For some reason, she hadn't expected that to work.  But what the heck.
            As Breeze rushes by, Robin casually attempts to stop him (with a trip or a light clothsline maneuver if necessary) hopefully letting the other two wild men carry on forward without noticing they are a man short.

If the other two notice, they don't stop.  The four prisoners sit, tied.  Breeze starts to get up and follow, but Robin can stop him easily.  He looks drugged, or something.  He's not focusing well.  He tries to speak but doesn't really seem to be able to.
            He's definitely less himself than he was when you came upon him just a few moments ago.

"Huhn."  Robin blows out a breath as she looks into the young man's eyes.  "Well, I'm going to call that an answer to the 'did Breeze choose this' question?"
            "Okaaayyy."  Holding on to one of Breeze's upper arms, Robin strips the  gauntlet off her right hand with her teeth and reaches into her breast pocket.  She pulls out the protective case that rests there next to her heart and, with a practiced flip, opens it to reveal two visages.
            One, that of her cold loving father.  The other... what?  Well, he said to call him if she needed anything.  And he *was* involved with this stuff, if only peripherally.  Now, if he was just back from the damn no-Rangers-needed Brita hunt.
            Robin places her bare thumb on the Trump of Reid and, spitting out her gauntlet, Calls to him.

Robin opens her mind, concentrates on the image of her elder cousin, and wills his presence.  The card is cold under her fingers and she awaits contact...

/Who calls?/ Reid answers, sitting on the front board of a wagon alongside a female companion. It is early morning, and Robin can sense the chill and dew in the air.

"It's Robin."  The Ranger stands at the edge of a great primal forest that is not *quite* Arden, though the scents and whispers of life are vibrant enough that she must be close.  The sunlight of an early autumn afternoon tints her features with gold and green.  She is blinking a little uncertainly, obviously unfamiliar with Trump use.  And her right shoulder is moving slightly as though she were holding onto something wriggling with an iron grip.
            "Are you in..." she takes in the scene and corrects herself, "near Amber?"

"No, we're a day out from Paris on our way to a shadow of my youth." He seems pleased by his play on words. "What can I do for you?"

Wriggling continues under Robin's right hand.

"Hunh."  Robin blows out a breath in thought. 
            "Would you be able to get...
            someone," says Robin's professional voice
            /nephew,/ says Robin's wondering mind
            'mine,' says Robin's Ranger heart
            ... to Amber pronto?  As a compromised friendly?"

"You might want to pin a note to his jacket so they know what to do with him when he arrives, but yes, I can get him there," Reid replies with confidence.

'Writing?!' Robin thinks with a fine mix of frustration and distaste.
            "I don't have time," she temporizes on the inside, while she's all professional on the outside.  "If you could ask your receiver to get him to Couth, that should do.  Thank you, Reid."  The Ranger finishes with a smile.

"No receiver in Amber. I'm dropping him off in the front hallway where he'll likely be apprehended by the guards, if they're paying any attention. Hope he's good under interrogation." Reid smiles to himself as he recalls his last interrogation in the castle and wonders how Venesch's methods might differ from his own. Perhaps they should spend some time together when Reid is in Amber again.

"Shit..." Robin thiiiiinnkkss about it, then regroups.
            "Okay, I'll write the note.  Can you hold him while I do?  Uhhhh, he's kind of active.  You ready?"

"When you are." Reid replies, ready to receive.

'Okay,' she thinks, 'Just like to Dad.'
            And drags the wriggling and wild-eyed Breeze into frame by his upper arm, which she then pushes toward to the Reid in her mind's-eye.

/oh, joy./ thinks Reid. /Time to play mentally unstable and pull a person through./
            Reid rocks back and forth on the seat of the wagon for a moment before pitching himself backwards into the wagon itself. Under cover of the canvas, he brings through the ranger, and tries to cover the ranger's mouth with one hand while listening for the reaction from outside.

'Huhn.'  Robin blows a non-plussed breath out as Reid goes into his rocking instability act, but doesn't try to interfere.

The Trump contact breaks and Robin is brought back to the present with four tied up prisoners looking at her, wide eyed, and no Breeze.

Robin blinks for a moment, then stoops and picks up her dropped gauntlet.  As she stands, she looks over the four.
            "Any of you speak Thari?"  She asks.  Just for fun.

"No," they don't actually say.  It comes out more like that gibberish that the centaurs were gibbering.
            "I do," says a voice, low but definitely feminine, from behind her.

'Verde,' Robin mutters sotto-voice.  She puts away her card case with a sigh.  Pulling on her gauntlet, the Ranger turns with a neutral yet pleasant expression on her face.

"If I understand correctly, you're my cousin, and a goddess of my Father's lineage."  A young woman with a pale face stands at the edge of the trees, a moonbeam casting light and shadow across her face.  "I am Lalal."

"Pleased to meet you Lalal.  I am Robin."  The Ranger nods in acknowledgement.
            "You have any objection to me letting these go?"  She gestures to the bound figures.

"I do not, although they should not be encouraged to stay here.  Are they your allies?"

"Nope.  Just don't want them attracting scavengers."  Robin strides over to the bound prisoners and starts untying one.  Theeennn, it penetrates.  "'My Father's lineage?'"

She nods.  "Our line is older, from when my father was Warden of Arden.  Before there was an Arcadia."

"Dung."  Robin chuckles under her breath as she finishes untying the first wildperson and shooes them off into the forest.  She dusts off her hands and grins over at Lalal.  "Every time I leave Arden I seem to step in a mess of more cousins." 
            The Ranger shakes her head, still chuckling ruefully and starts working on the bounds of a second prisoner.

"We feel the same way about the saplings of our father's brothers' lines sometimes," Lalal replies, but her tone is jesting. "There are many of you: Artemis' litter, Calliste's litter, and those from the mountain, like yourself. But it is of the White Rider I would ask you, cousin."

Robin finds herself in complete agreement with the 'saplings' line, and nods with another chuckle.  But her ears perk and her eyes narrow slightly at the words 'Calliste's litter.'

Here Lalal's tone turns serious. "Now that the dragon is free again, does he ride against her as he did many years ago?"

"Well, that depends."  Robin shooes the second prisoner off and begins working on the third.
            "It depends on whether I'm talking to a potential ally.  Or at best an interested neutral.  Or whether I'm leaking intel to an enemy."  The Ranger's green eyes dart to Lalal's, equally serious.

Lalal's eyes are dark and large and placid.
            "That it might be possible to provide knowledge to an enemy answers the question effectively enough.  I have lived when my mother was bound by my Father's will and when Artemis bound her further.  I do not fear freedom, but I will not risk disaster to achieve it.  I choose your term, then.  You are talking to an interested neutral."
            She looks at Robin and then in the direction where the prisoners ran.  "This fighting is a burden to us all.  I am curious how your people will want to have things in the new realm.  Do you intend to war eternally, or do you intend to make peace with the creatures and people who came from Arcardia?"

Robin sends the third prisoner off after the first two and starts on the fourth.
            "I'm not a voice for my people.  Just for me."  She says firmly.  "But I don't have any beef with most of the critters and folks of Arcadia.  Just with some overly protective mothers and a certain slitherer who have killed my friends."
            The Ranger licks her lips as the faces of Fortune, Foresight and Breeze drift across her mind and amends her earlier statement.  "Can't say I particularly care for what's happening to home and its people either.  I get to the root of that and I'm not likely to be a polite person."  She shrugs one shoulder.
            "'New realm' got anything to do with that?"

She nods, slowly.  "Old barriers are falling, and there are those who say there is no Arden and no Arcadia any more.  It is as it once was, when Arden was a more magical place, before things were locked into Arcadia."
            "When last this happened, your father warred with my mother, and both nearly vanquished each other.  Your father and my sister came up with a solution, which perfectly pleased none, but quieted things for a long while.  I enjoyed peace, even at the price it cost.  My sister was not so happy."  She looks down.
            "Tell your father that re-binding the dragon will be harder this time, for she remembers how she was tricked and burns with anger over it."

"Uh-hunh."  Robin takes the one pretty seriously.  Then gets her fingers moving again to release the fourth prisoner and send them off.
            Finished, she stands dusting her hands off and looks to Lalal.  "How well are you getting along with the formerly not perfectly pleased sister?  Uh," Robin has to think a little about the way they talk here, "the mother of my brother?"

"Will you tell your father?  Good.  Calliste wars openly on Artemis, who as always uses her power to protect her position.  Britomartis and Arianrod look for solutions, each for her own reasons, and I have not been swayed to any of the factions, except that I do not wish my mother to be freed completely.
            "As he will know, Arcadia has stopped being the barrier it was in days gone by and lurches into Arden, as it was in the past.  The peoples of Arcadia are divided, as are their goddesses, and they war upon each other.
            "While we normally are united in some things, we are being driven to extremes."  She looks into the fire.  "Is that what you wished to know, cousin?"

"Every little bit helps."  Robin shrugs.
            "Mostly I'm looking to get a message to Artemis."  The Ranger figures that since Lalal said the name first, they can't get too much more fried for her repeating it.

Lalal raises her eyebrows.  "Do you want me to deliver it, do you want me to summon her, or are you looking for directions?"

"In order of preference?  2, 3, 1.  That is if having you around for number 2 will stunt the snatch and grab instinct."  Robin cocks her lips wryly.

"You...wish to kidnap my sister?  Are you going to kill her?"

"Unicorn, no!" bursts out of Robin before thought.  Then comes thought and the Ranger tilts her head, toying internally with the idea of kidnapping or killing Artemis.  Eventually, she wrinkles her nose and confirms her initial words with a rueful headshake.  "No.  I'm worried about *her* trying either of those on *me.*"
            "Buuuuuttt...." she just can't resist adding, "if there's kidnapping in the wind... "Calliste's litter"?  Would that be my brother and sister?"

She nods.  "Your father's youngest.  They grow fangs and claws for their mother,"  She pauses, then adds, "if you wish to parley with Artemis, I can arrange it."

"Not so much on the parley," Robin shrugs wryly.  That'd be thinking and talking stuff, not her strong points.  "Just getting her the message.  I'd appreciate your help though, ma'am."
            "Fur and fangs for their mother, huhn?"  Robin rubs her chin in thought.  "Any possibility of liberating them from Mommy?"  Boy, she *knows* she's asking for trouble there.  Princes of Amber against their will equals bad things.  But still...

Again, her eyebrows raise in surprise.  "I... I do not know.  They roam the edges of the wild wood, hunting,   They are strong, already."
            She looks around.  "As I am an interested neutral party, I shall not inform their mother of your query.  What, precisely, do you wish me to tell her?  I would like your words, so that my thoughts will not color them.  I would not be responsible for a misunderstanding if I can avoid it."

"Thank you, Lalal."  Robin bows formally.
             "If you could, would you tell Artemis that," she thinks about it, making sure that the message is clear of Robin-isms, "I, Robin daughter of Julian and sister of Daeon send her the greetings of her son.  That he conveys his love and devotion to her and that he holds intelligence concerning her mother and sisters as well as the latter's stated commitment to a negotiated settlement.
            "He wishes to advise her that he has conferred discretely with Julian and myself as to method and that he is about the duty she laid upon him.  He concludes by reassuring her that her son still recalls the taste."
            Robin wrinkles her nose at the end.  Daeon-speak, so unlike her own whimsical butchering of Thari.

Lalal nods, gravely.  "I will tell her so."  She adds, "If you hunt for Callistae's twins, do not hunt alone.  They are fierce, and cunning when cornered."

The Ranger returns Lalal's grave nod.  "I hear you."
            "Thank you for your time, your words and your help, Lalal.  I appreciate it."  Robin bows once more.

She bows and slips back into the forest.  She's out of sight before Robin can blink.
            The ranger stands alone.