Conner landed hard unto jagged rocks and sand, his shoeless feet slowly getting wet as he lay there trying to catch the breath that had been knocked forcefully from his now bruised body. As he lay there he dared not open his eyes as memories of Quortoth tore through him. He started to shake until he decided to call upon his alter ego Stephen, yes Stephen would know how to deal if this was another place like the hell he'd been thrown in as but an infant.

Damn his luck and stupidity he should have known better than to open an unrecognized piece of mail with no return address. His father, father's plural had taught him better than this and he had yet again failed to implement such a simple task. Now he was in some unknown possible hell dimension, this time around he had no guide to help him maneuver the treacherous terrain. Oh, how he longed for the guidance of one Daniel Holtz now, no matter how misguided or torture filled that guidance would be.

He paused as he felt a cool breeze blow across his face. He breathed in carefully and breathed it out in relief of the fresh air that smelt like the ocean. He opened his eyes to look around, his senses on full alert for any nearby creatures, demons or whatever the hell this place had spawned as wildlife. He picked up nothing nearby demon or otherwise so he slowly rose from the ground and hissed as the pain shot through his back. Some of the rocks he'd landed on had embedded themselves into to his back and he could feel blood trickling down his back because of it. He was going to have to find shelter of some kind and treat his injury before it caused him problems. he knew his super healing would take care of it but he wanted to be cautious not knowing what toxicities were present in a place like this.

Conner slowly turned and drank in his surrounded, his brow furrowing deeply in confusion. This place looked like some private island paradise, almost like the British Isles of old, nothing like a hell dimension at all. Was this a trick to lull you into a false since of security and then suddenly ponce on him with the worst this dimension had to offer? He wasn't going to fall for such a ploy yet again, fool me once shame on you, fool me twice… well he'd be damned if he let that happen.

He looked around and saw many little cottages built sporadically on the island, none of them looked remotely modern or lived in. He started to go search if what society considered "normal" people might reside in one of them when he heard a small little voice speak to him.

"Hello, are you lost or did you get washed ashore from one of the merchant ships," Conner whirled around in horror wondering who could of possible snuck up on him with his cognitive abilities and froze. A little girl who looked no more than ten years old stood before him. He simply gazed at the little girl for a moment, she looked oddly familiar to him. He finally broke from his

"Hi, yes I'm a bit lost little girl. Could you tell me where I am and what year it is?"

The little girl giggled, she could see someone not knowing where they were, but not knowing when was just puerile. She walked a little closer to him not fearing him at all as little children should fear strangers. "You are on the Island Hermatray, an island off North Uist, in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland. it's a trade island where some merchants come to trade and barter. I'm here with my father to learn and help on his trade agreements on the Island, it's actually a well-kept secret or is reputed to be," she said as she eyed him suspiciously. You good sir are presently in the year of our Lord 1589," She couldn't quite control her giggles as she told him this.

Conner became a statue, frozen in his shock and awe. 1589! How the hell could he have been thrown back in time to 1589? He would find whomever had sent him that box and beat them to death with it. The Island hermatray, he vaguely remembered his Geography teacher briefly hitting on the subject when talking of the economic situation across the British Isles. But it was for the dates of the 1900's and up, not the fucking 1500's, so he had no idea if what the little girl told him was accurate or not. He briefly looked off into the distance and saw a misty forest that seemed somewhat out of place to the scenery around him and he eyed it warily. It was giving off some type of power, something he had not felt since that red head had come to reensoul his father. her name evaded him now, but he believed she was named after some type of tree. Juniper, sequoia? No neither of those were it he laughed to himself. As he thought of the witch the oddest thing happened in the forest that had started his thought process. A red willow tree just appeared out of nowhere.

"You see it to?" The little girl brought him out of his reverie and he looked at her questioningly. She looked a little frightened when she answered him.

"No one else has seen it but me, the island stretches out beyond that forest but no one sees it or ventures out past it. They all seem to believe that the island ends at the edge of that forest and when others wonder to close to the edge, a force confounds their senses and they are redirected forcibly to another direction."

Conner raised an eyebrow at that, definitely some kind of magical or mystical force behind it then. "How come you've never told anyone?"

She visibly blanched and shook her head in the negative. "I told my father of this and he physically punished me and told me if I again speak such lies and witchery that he would have me committed. I never spoke of such things again. But I have ventured close to the edge of the forest and found that I am not repulsed by it like the others. It calls out to me, calls me by a name that is not my own."

Conner started towards the forest and the little girls catches his hand to try and stop him but is drawn in the wake of his momentum. They both seem to be drawn like moths to a flame towards the forest. He looked down at her frightened face and squeezed her hand for comfort. "I promise not to let anything hurt you," she smiled at him warmly and visibly calmed down.

"What is your name by the way?" Conner berated himself for not asking the little girl's name earlier.

"Clorinda," she responded.

Conner flinched at her answer. Shit, the name on the box he was sent. That couldn't be a coincidence. As they continued their trek to the edge of the forest he was almost afraid to ask the next question that was burning in his mind. "What does the forest call you?"

She took several seconds before she was brave enough to respond to his inquiry. "It calls me Darla."