Amethyst

The faint sound of flames crackling filters into your consciousness. With an effort, you open your eyes, your limbs feeling heavy as lead, and take stock of your surroundings. You find that you're lying in a rough cloth hammock, inside some kind of dark, conical leather tent filled with odds and ends, furs and drying herbs and meat. The smell of fresh meat and the strange, spicy scents of unfamiliar herbs fill the small space. You can smell the fire outside, so you struggle to your feet and push aside the tent flap. Outside it is twilight, the stars just appearing in a purple-dusky sky, huge strange trees towering above in all directions. In front of you is a campfire built in a bed of glowing white-hot stones, which doesn't appear to be fueled by any kind of wood. The warm flickering light casts weird shadows everywhere, into the overhanging trees, and across the features of a young man sitting beside the fire, nearly hidden in the shadow of a large boulder he's leaning up against.