To the wood, where you might find Ravi.

You slip past the fervor of attendants and servants preparing for the fete, escaping their busy cacophony into the relative quiet of Castle Knothole’s modest gardens. Though you can still hear the echoes of preparation reverberating throughout the castle behind you, most of the noise is swallowed by the garden’s humble collection of frost flowers, oakshield trees, and rareberry shrubs. The cobblestone path between them twists and turns, guiding you under a latticework arch covered so thoroughly in thorned vines that they cast you in cool, humid shade. You exit the path into the wood that surrounds your castle. The shade persists.

You have been exploring the routes between these trees since you were a child. Though the wood is dark and cold and ancient, it is a place of peace for you. You see not the shadows, but the rare beams of golden light that cut through the blanketed canopy. You miss the hand-sized spiders for the flying squirrels, fighting over nuts. You spot without fail the infrequent stag that guards your lands, old and wizened, stealthed to all but the keenest eyes.

And yet despite all this, you are at a loss for finding where Ravi has made his camp. You follow the western road a little while, then the eastern. You trace a less-trodden but still viable path toward the southern creek, follow it to the basin by the waterfall.

Only the sounds of the forest surround you. Only the tinkling water and titter of birds.

But then something heavy drops beside you. The earth jars underfoot. And when you turn, it is to face a knife’s blade, held expertly by a handsome, dark-skinned man, all smirking eyes and toothy smile that betray he wouldn’t really harm you. Above, a crowd of men and women laugh, and you look up to finally spot them: the people of Snakeriver Jungle, hidden among the trees.

Ravi -- for now you see the royal insignia on his collar -- retreats his blade from your throat with a flourish. He smiles wider as the din of laughter quiets. “Forgive me, Lord Dragoon. Can’t help but indulge in some fun, from time to time. Your woods are as stunning as your reputation, and as dangerous, too.” He bows, slightly.

Above, in their sprawling, makeshift skycamp, the Snakeriver denizens chat amongst themselves.

“A very important person like yourself shouldn’t be walking around such a place alone,” Ravi says, like he’s building up to a punchline of a joke. “Please, allow me.”

He offers you his arm...