The kid accepts a mug, and sniffs the brew.

"Did you make this? I like the color, and the aroma is quite pleasing."

He takes a sip.

"Very nice."

"I'll take one, thank you. " Stocky says accepting a mug from their host and takes a drink before continuing. "I suppose, for conveniences sake, you can call me Stocky. We've all had so many names, it's hard to form any attachment to just one. We are who we are. I don't know if we're here to do something, or just passing through, so right now, we're just trying to find out what we can and then figure out what we can or should do."

(OOC: I'm kinda assuming Stocky's self-control ability will let him avoid any negative effects from the drink, be it alcohol or some stronger poison.)

"Thank you, but I'll pass," the Lady says. "I think I can face things sober. They've been calling me Lady, which is okay by me. And who are you, man with giant tent and a keg of ale in the middle of a giant forest?"

Ginger politely declines the offer of a drink.

"No particular name. When you're out here long enough, you don't really need one. No one calls you it. Animals, plants, the wild things unnamed... they don't care what your name is, they'll make their own name for you. I think the squirrel's name for me roughly translates to 'Big Hairy Nut'."

He nods in approval as some of you take a drink. The ale is indeed very fine quality. "My own make, that. Bit of a pain to haul that keg around, but times like these make it all the worthwhile. I... hm? What's the Arcana? Don't even know that, do you?"

He says it in a way that the capital letters are fairly obvious, and gives you a rather dubious look, then proceeds to make a grand gesture at the forest around you.

"You are currently on the outskirts of the Empire of Tarot, land of the Four Kingdoms. There's the Kingdom of Coins, the Kingdom of Wands, the Kingdom of Cups, and the Kingdom of Swords, each with a ruling king and queen. Above each crown lies the Arcana - the true rulers of the land, so to speak. The offices of the Arcana are responsible for maintaining the Empire and the castes. The Emperor and Empress oversee the rulers of the Kingdoms. Justice handles laws and is the final judge of any dispute. Death... well. That one's a bit long to explain. Haven't met the current holder of the title... it tends to be pretty hard on him or her. I could go on, but suffice to say there are separate offices and each focuses on a particular aspect of the Empire. They tend to travel a lot through the course of their duties, so I'd imagine you'll probably see one sooner or later."

"The Tart's probably Death," says Pretty after a pull of ale, "If spec is allowed, of course."

The kid shakes his head, then turns his attention back to Harry. The kid refused to think of him as Nuts. Though the pretty-boy might as well be called Nuts.

The ale was good though. The Kid remembered brewing. He'd been famous for his stout, one life long ago.

"Well, that's all very nice. Nothing I want more than a casual outline of the governmental structure of this world we happened to materialized in," the Lady says with a bit of an edge in her voice. "I'm sure it will come in handy. Most sure.

But sir, there are a few things I want more than anything: a hot bath, a soft bed, clothes that don't make me look like a department store employee. Oh, and I suppose I wouldn't mind breaking from the crazed woman who has me and the others of this group trapped in an endless cycle of life, death and duty. But since that is unlikely, I'll take the creature comforts.

So please, I would be ETERNALLY grateful if you pointed us, or at least me, toward civilization. I do better in cities. I always have."

"It's nice here."

The kid's voice is firm.

"For YOU it is," the Lady says, her voice softening a little. "For me, not so much."

"The forest moon of Endor had these little teddybear creatures in." says Enver. "They filled the place with traps. Nets and logs on ropes, mainly. Some spears as well. Not a place to wander round in without permission. On the other hand, the forests of Anuurn were hunting preserves - the only real danger was if the Clan Lord caught you trespassing. Unless you were the Clan Lord, of course. In the forest of Skund, the trees talked. Rarely. In the Muddletup Moors, you couldn't get them to shut up once they started, but of course those were mushrooms. In Narnia, the trees both walked and talked. On Kashyyk, only high in the trees was safe, and cablecars ran from the vines. Midworld's forests killed those who would exploit them, and most of those who lived in them too."

"See what I mean?" the Lady says, waving her hand at Enver. "Forests are unpredictable! Dark, lonely, full of folk that keep to themselves to the point of creating traps and blaming a lost soul for "trespassing" in their home -- which covers the entire forest, no matter how large the acreage -- and punish according to who knows what arcane laws. Look at the squirrels!

NO OFFENSE!" She calls up to the trees.

"But they obviously weren't pleased to see us, though WE weren't the ones who chose to drop in to their home," she hisses. "And that's not even touching on the wild creatures that consider anything moving up for grabs for the hunt.

Cities are predictable. They hold the same dangers wherever you go: neighborhoods that must be skirted, crime rings that can be avoided, traffic, thieves. Other than that, you have whole communities that are perfectly fine with live and let live, else there be chaos. No one pays attention to weirdness. There are bazaars, shops, restaurants, inns, hotels! If one has no money, there are nooks and crannies and abandoned buildings to lay one's head. It takes but a hat and some small talent to begin collecting coin. And, maybe, a suggestive smile, a few promises...hmmm."

Her eyes glimmer a bit in the firelight.

"Get me to a city, and I think I...can do well. Can make us safe, for a time."

"Some of the forests of Middle-Earth were places of light and company." murmurs Enver, watching the fire. "The ones with elves in. Then there was Fangorn, of course, where the Ents lived, that place had a bad reputation. Cities... in Ankh-Morpork, there were alleys where even the muggers wouldn't walk alone. Coruscant had creatures that ate through the plascrete foundations. In the cities of the Borg, every person, every house, every piece of machinery shared one great collective mind, and woe to the stranger. In Mechanicsburg, the city was in its own way alive - its brain was mechanical, in the Castle, but its body was spread out among the entire city. In the docks of Kefk, murder wasn't illegal, or even particularly remarkable unless the victim was of high status. The cities of Moth were at least survivable; though the merchants would trick you out of every credit you carried, humanx or not. I've seen cities in the forests, built into the trees, and cities where nothing would grow, not even algae. I don't think... on average... cities have really treated me any better than forests." He stares at the flames a moment longer. "Or any worse."

'Harry' gives a grim smile and points over in an eastward direction. "Civilization, as you call it, is that way. There lies the farmlands of the Kingdom of Wands, the architects and farmers. But..."

The large man points the finger upward.

"It is a week's travel through this forest to get there. There are no roads, no paths. You are welcome to try to make it on your own, if you wish." He waves expansively to the Lady. "I'm sure a woman of your... experience would have no trouble with such a trial."

"We could stay here. The forest will provide. We could hunt, trap and brew. I can build a cabin, if needs be."

The kid smiles at the thought, then shakes his head.

"Likely the Lady wouldn't let us though."

He looks over at Harry, or more accurately at his chest.

"Do you want to go that way with us? Do you need help transporting pelts, or other trade goods?"