She'll sure as hell fight her way back home. Artis took hold of the strange goblet before her. Glass? Why would wine be served out of a glass? Her fingers brushed across the rim, brows already furrowed in concentration in a battle plan within her.

"I'll need a sword. And a horse. Where's your closest armoury? Do they barter?" she asked. She'd need provisions, so once he answered, she'd need to ask the closest baker then a shop that sold things like axes, rope. Artis' mind going hundreds of miles a minute.