She appears to be in the middle of a flat grassland plain, stretching almost as far as the eye can see. In one direction, off in the distance, there's a sort of hump on the horizon, like a stubby melted spire. The grass is damp, some new growth is just coming in; there are still a few patches of receding snow nearby. 

There's a disturbance off in the opposite direction. Distant hoofbeats. 

Huh. Okay. All else being equal she will break into a jog spireward. If nothing else she can climb it for a better view.

The spire is a pretty long way off, apparently, and therefore must be very big; it's not getting appreciably closer. 

The hoofbeats are drawing nearer. 

She glances hoovesward occasionally in case she can see what's up with that yet but continues heading for the spire.

It's now apparent that the hoofbeats belong to horses, with riders on their backs; they're in a knot of around a dozen, and are definitely headed for her location. It's still hard to see much else in the way of detail. 

Oh, if they're coming to her she'll stop and wait politely to meet them, then! She waves with her whole right arm.

They're very fast horses. They draw near enough that she can make out a little more detail - colourful clothing, dark hair in braids flying in the wind–

–and then one of them is brandishing a bow, and seconds later an arrow whizzes past her, two yards to her left. Someone shouts something, in a language she doesn't understand, and suddenly more of them have bows out. 

Um.

"I DID NOT MEAN TO INTERFERE WITH YOUR SETPIECE, I'M SORRY," she hollers. But she is really not sure right at this moment that it's a setpiece.

She would like to run away but she will be less able to dodge the arrows if she can't see them aimed and see them flying.

When they do not seem to find her shouting mollifying she takes a deep breath, draws a sword, and runs toward them, not quite at sprinting horse speed but much faster than a human should be able to manage.

They seem very briefly confused and then they fan out and keep galloping toward her. 

It seems like the first arrow was deliberately aimed to miss her, because the second one flies dead-on toward her centre of mass. 

That's what the sword is for. She swats the bolt out of the air. "I'D REALLY RATHER NOT DO THIS RIGHT NOW! TURN ON YOUR SPIRIT GUIDES SO WE CAN TALK PLEASE!"

There are some returned shouts, still in the language she doesn't understand, and no spirit guides are apparent. The half a dozen riders in the middle are slowing while the others on both sides gallop around to circle her.

They're close enough now for facial expressions to be visible; the people look very angry. It's a mix of about three-quarters men and a quarter women, all young and fit-looking, most armed with bows; several also have swords. 

One of them, maybe the leader, shouts some more incomprehensible things in a demanding voice. 

"I CAN'T UNDERSTAND THAT," she yells in three consecutive languages.

She's going to assume they can't either and her next idea is... charge the nearest rider, flip directly over his horse's head, kick him in the shoulder to knock him from the saddle, land on the horse herself, and try to wheel the horse the fuck out of there.

They are not expecting that at ALL and the rider does not successfully react in time to do anything about being kicked out of his own saddle. 

The others react fast enough after that, though, taking chase after her. They're spread out enough that some are ahead of her no matter which direction she runs, and gallop to try to cut her off; they're all extremely good riders, and on good terms with their horses. Her horse, on the other hand, seemed confused and offended by this turn of events and tries to buck her off. 

She is not bucked off but she is not a horse-whisperer. She apologizes mentally to the horse while trying to kick it into a run.

The horse is not really having this. Instead it's trying to yank its head around and go check on its fallen rider. Who seems to be fine and is scrambling up.

The other riders have cooperative horses and have now circled up tightly around her. They look even more upset. 

Fucking fine then. She will hop off the horse and brandish her sword some more and holler.

Four or five arrows are fired at once from different directions, all with very good aim. 

Swat swat dodge swat and she's going to start cutting bowstrings, sword flashing very close to people's faces in a few cases but never grazing skin.

Someone vaults down from their horse in order to engage her directly with their sword. They're pretty fast, but human-level fast. 

Then soon she will have TWO swords! She is not appreciably hampered by dual-wielding.

These people are now going from 'angry' to 'alarmed and concerned' and backing off a bit. Arrows have stopped flying. They've still got her surrounded though. 

She will try all three of her languages again and then start cycling through more, a bit more haltingly.

There are awkward stares of incomprehension. None of the people seem to have any idea what to do about her. 

She will attempt to gesture a couple of them apart to let her pass.

They do not seem very keen to do this!