Jason blinks. He starts to look around. He thinks of saying something to the scavengers nearby but hesitates.

The scavengers are some ways in the distance, and are moving around furtively. It doesn't look like any of them have seen Jason yet. There are a couple of different groups of them, and as he watches there's a brief skirmish between two groups over a specific portion of the battlefield. 

As Jason watches this from his hidden vantage, he feels something new, a kind of novel sense in his consciousness. It's like an extension of proprioception, an ability to feel where things are around you without directly observing them. 

Jason quickly checks his facilities. He doesn't feel anything amiss in his body. If anything he feels better than when he woke up this morning.

"...Is this hell?" he finally asks himself. There are dead bodies around and the scene certainly looks "hellish", but this world feels real, not fantastical.

The one thing he does NOT want to do is disturb the scavengers. He's getting the distinct feeling that the only reason he is safe right now is because nobody has noticed he is here.

Jason remains hidden in the trees, cautiously examining the area to see if he can find any more clues to what happened. The forest appears old, the kind of place that grew up over centuries, untouched by axe. The scavengers down on the fields below appear to be wearing heavy clothing, very unlike modern clothes. Jason checks his own clothes and sees he's wearing a machine-made shirt and pants that would be common in any Earth city. But it will stand out like a beacon here. 

Jason looks to see if there are any roads, any indication of where the scavengers came from. His first instinct is to just bolt into the forest, but he's got no idea what the geography of the area is, and he doesn't want to starve to death in the wilderness.

His mind is racing. Where the fuck am I? Did I survive? Did they mean to dump my body here? The present scene around him doesn't make any sense.

On the other side of the battlefield is a road, beyond which seems to be open fields. It seems to run along the edge of the forest in both directions. There are a few carts on the road, each of which is guarded by a group of the scavengers. There's also the occasional wagon guarded by soldiers, always passing ini the same direction. They're very far away, but Jason can see them clearly because they're wearing right tabards in yellow and brown. 

Jason starts to trek a wide roundabout through the forest. He's trying not to draw attention to himself and emerge at the field at the other end. 

Once he's snuck past this group he can flag down a passerby and figure out where he is and try to piece together how he got here. That's a good idea, he thinks.

Jason passes through the forest without incident, able to move a little deeper into the trees to get out of sight. It takes nearly an hour to move around the edge of the forest and find a road, but eventually he does. Now comes the problem of deciding on a passerby to talk to. The options appear to be either the occasional carts that are passing, going in one direction heavily loaded and with armed guards, then passing by in the opposite direction empty and with a much lighter guard. The scavengers are keeping their distance from them. There's also a single odd-one out, in the distance you see a person leading a donkey with a small cart. They're moving slower than anybody else, but stand out because it's just one person, and one not in uniform. 

The donkey cart. Definitely the cart.

Jason does his best I'm a Normal Person and I'm just walking through don't mind me impression as he paces down to where the guy is standing.

"Morning", he says, flagging the guy down.

Wait. He doesn't know if it's morning or not. Fuck.

Jason waits for the person to approach. They're wearing a strange outfit, seemingly made of a dozens of different types of thread all woven together. He's striding down the road confidently next to his donkey. The cart itself is strange - it's not carrying bulk cargo, but in fact seems like almost more of a portable toolbox. He watches Jason approach with some amount of confusion, and remains silent for a few seconds after Jason speaks. 

When he does reply, it's slowly, and with a thick slavic accent. "And to you. What is your purpose here, and with me?" 

Jason gives his best, most disarming smile. "I've just gotten myself a bit lost. Do you know the way back into town?"

The man purses his lips, examining Jason before a faint smile blooms on his face. "Certainly. I would welcome some company on the road. The aftermath of a battle is a poor place to travel alone." 

"Thank you so much. What's your name?" he asks while offering his hand.

The man looks at the offered hand curiously, and does not reach out his own. "I am called Kael. You must hail from far, to offer your palm so freely. Tell me, do you know any of the grand art?"