The breaking of the Astral Caravan is strangely silent, you are not sure how it happened, all you know is that there was a rumbling that passed through the length of the caravan, and the warm glow of the Astral Sea around you roared with an angry glare. Suddenly the hand you held was no longer there, you could not even be sure if the whole of the caravan was broken, or just you. You wall downwards, gripped by some phantasm of gravity alien to this Plane, the glow enveloping you silently, numbing the shouts of your companions.<br/><br/>Gradually the sensation of falling changes, becoming more real, and suddenly the silence is banished by the rush of air around your body. The white glow is replaced by a cruder, natural light, more piercing, yet somehow weaker as it cannot surround you. Above, you see the crack to the Astral Sea closing. Your wings unfurl in all their splendour, catching the air, but although you are in no danger of falling you cannot rise quickly enough. A moment later the quasi-portal is closed, locking you here.<br/><br/>You are 70ft above the ground, a rocky cliff bristling with green ferns, majestic and fragile. Further down you spy a loose herd of grey furred goats, feasting on the vegetation.  Sitting at the base of a thick, gnarly barked tree trunk and viewing his scattered, stubborn flock is a Sheppard boy. Behind him many more such trees break free from the rock, their trunks uneven and branches reaching up only to bend under their own weight.  Ahead of you the rock falls off, but where it leads is hidden from you in your current position. What you can spy is the azure expanse of the sea, and two islands, both a fair distance away but clear in the late morning air. Perhaps you are on the Sword Coast?