more storynessFollow

The Journeyman years.

The rangers of surefall have a very structured apprenticeship program. The first several years of life are spent learning the ways of the various woodland creatures and the forest. It is not uncommon to see tiny ranger and druid balls of dirt zipping through the forest floor, playing tag with the bears and the rabbits and squirrels. What looks like play to the untrained eye is all part of the program, letting the youngsters get acclimated and decide their role in life. Those with an affinity for magic are later placed in the druid track, the more martial ones get selected for ranger training. Every once in a while one of the children doesn’t really fit the life style, or sometimes we get an outsider, so the glade doesn’t become too isolated from the world.


At about the age of 6, the formal apprenticeship program begins. This consists of learning the spells and skills needed for glade life. . Things continue along this path until about the age of 12. At that time, a journeyman ranger is paired with a full ranger, to undertake a 1 year journey throughout the land of norrath. The rangers of the glade serve a variety of purposes, as messengers, trackers, resource collectors, and occasionally warriors in the various local bandit elimination efforts, and our battles with the undead minions that are currently laying siege to Kithocor. I like to think us rangers do our part.

My journeyman year started out much like any other ranger, at least on the surface. After classes were dismissed for the season, we all set about readying our equipment for the journey. They don’t tell you where you are going, or who with until the last minute, because part of the test is your level of preparedness, so a large part of the month leading up to the journey is spent agonizing over how many tunics to bring, or whether one should take a winter cloak or extra rain gear. This is fueled of course by horror stories passed down from returning journeymen, like the druid that had to wear the same pair of socks for a year, or the ranger that forgot his bowstring.

It was about a week before the pairing ceremony, when we are assigned our ranger mentor for the journey, and I was busy myself trying to decide which quiver to bring, when my right arm began to itch. Puzzled, I removed my bracer. Underneath, the skin looked bruised and pale, as though someone had been beating on my arm with a hammer. I looked at my left arm. The exact same thing.

Now I was really puzzled. I couldn’t recall banging my arms against anything, and they had looked fine this morning. The bracers were kind of new though, and I wasn’t finished breaking them in, so I shrugged it off. I removed both the bracers, intending to take a look at them later, and wrapped a bandage with a cool compress around the itch. I then went back to packing for the trip

Another hour or so passed. The itching began to worsen, but I tried to keep my mind off it. Call it ranger machismo, or what you will, but I was determined to keep ahead of the game. I had my week planned and I wasn’t about to let some little ailment derail them.

Then the burning started.
At this point, I was beginning to get a little worried. I removed the bandage and compress from my right arm, and to my horror saw little strips of skin peal off, with the surrounding skin a dark green. Panicking, I quickly began to cast a healing spell. The healing aura began to coalesce around my forearm. It started to take, then PAIN!!!!

Blackness…

I dream. The world passes below me, as if viewed from the tallest of mountains. Rivers, forests, all merged into a flowing pastel tapestry. I know I am dreaming, yet this dream feels more real than any I have had before. I can feel the wind. Smell the air. I look around. To the right, I can see a city. To the left, a large green wing.

My wing.

More blackness…

Slowly I come back to awareness. In the dim light of my sleep filled eyes, I recognize my surroundings. I am in the medical hut inside the druid guildhall. This is not a good sign.

Slowly, I sit up. My arms are bandaged again, as are my shoulders and shins. Definitely not a good sign. Before I can examine the matter further, the door opens, and in walks Guildmaster Trueshot and the chief druid healer Adept Trynna. They were smiling.

“Ah, I see our young patient has decided to join the land of the living once again!” Boomed Guildmaster Trueshot, in that quiet, yet authoritative voice that all Guildmasters seem to posses. “you gave us all quite a scare there. We weren’t sure Adept Trynna would be able to put you back together again”

Adept Trynna scoffed. “I keep telling you, I didn’t do nuthin. One minute, disaster, then enxt minute, he’s healed, but out like sleeping beauty. 2 whole weeks! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

2 weeks! My heart lurched into my stomach. That… That meant…

I guess my face must have revealed my fear, because Guildmaster Trueshot quickly spoke. “Now don’t you worry about your Journey. It’s all been taken care of, just as soon as they release you from prison here!”

Adept Trynna glowered at him for a moment, then smiled. She turned back to me. “Alright. Lets get those bandages off and see the damage.” She said as she began removing the ones on my arms.

None of us were prepared for what we saw.

Where before my fairly normal arm skin had been, now I had a large forest green band. It seemed to be made of a tad thicker material than the surrounding skin, but was warm to the touch and seamlessly melded into the rest of my arm. We soon discovered I had similar skin patches on my shins and shoulders. It seemed as if they had a shimmery, almost metallic cast to them. It reminded me of the color of the wing from my dream.

Guildmaster Trueshot was the first to speak. “Truly, a gift from your father” he said in a low voice. At the time, I was puzzled by his comment, not knowing then what I know now about my parental history.

Adept Trynna was fascinated by them. She spoke in a kind of far off voice while examining my left arm. “I… see. I think. Your arms were changing, that was the itching you mentioned in your sleep. There must be magic involved somehow, and your healing spell interfered with it and sent you into shock… There’s no spell residue though. Fascinating!”

For some reason she felt the need to keep pokeing my arm with some medical stick thingy. I could still feel it through the changed skin, and really, couldn’t tell the difference. But it was getting a tad bit old. I was about to say something when Guildmaster Trueshot spoke up. “Trynna, leave the boy alone and go pester the bears or something. They were looking bored last time I saw them.” Then he addressed me. “Go get changed and grab your gear, then meet me out front near the hills. There’s been a report of poachers in the area, and I could use some company whilst dispatching them.”

Eager to see the poachers get theirs, I quickly complied. Along the way to my quarters, I kept turning the events of the last 2 weeks over in my mind. Why would the guildmaster take me along on a simple poacher expedition?

My quarters were pretty much as I had left them, except my journeypack was now neatly arranged off to one side. The rest of the room was neat and orderly to a certain extent, my weapons racked on their hangers, Spell books and components arrayed on the shelf.

I looked with some chagrin at the mess on my desk. I had attempted to disassemble an old gnomish vanishing device that I had found during a shopping trip to Qeynos. It had not survived my attempts, and was now randomly emitting invisibility waves in short random bursts from the various remaining parts.

3000 years later I still haven’t got that thing to work right

Anyways, I pushed all that from my mind, strapped on my baldric, and raced out the door.

I caught up with Guildmaster Trueshot about halfway to the gnoll caves. He was busy one-shotting gnolls with a truly massive bow. I decided to join in. We worked our way towards the Karanas Pass, leaving a trail of destruction and toothless gnolls behind us. When we came to the ruins of the old guard tower, we decided to teak a break and eat some lunch. Guildmaster trueshot gestured to the ruins around us. “This tower used to be the first in a long chain of signal towers running all the way back to Freetown (as Freeport was known in those days). Most of them were destroyed during the sundering, but the ones on the western half of Antonica survived relatively intact for many years. No more though I fear. The Combine tribes are one the move again, and there are rumors of a blight to the east.” He paused. “Your father told me to watch for the gathering storm on the day he left. I fear now that I am beginning to understand what he meant.”

He tossed me a package. “Here. He wanted you to have this when you were older. He said I would know when the time is right.”

I unwrapped it.

Inside, I found a note, a large green tunic, and a heavy silver/platinum medallion with an engraving of a dragon on the front.

The note read:

Kaolian, my son.

I write this letter with a heavy hand, for I know that when you read it many years will have passed. Years that I will have missed, and cannot get back. I expect my departure has made life in the glade more difficult for you than your other peers, and I imagine that you probably harbor some resentment towards me. This I accept as the price of the course of action I chose, but please understand it was necessary.

Had I stayed with you, you would now be dead.

I know you have questions. Questions I cannot answer in this letter, for I do not know who may see it before you do. This I can tell you: we will meet in the future. When you complete your journey, travel East to the lands beyond the veil. I will find you.

Fare well in your Journey,
V.

p.s. The medallion enclosed will grant you safe passage in some areas, and mark you for death in others. Be very sure of your company before you reveal it.

I set the note aside and picked up the tunic. Guildmaster Trueshot looked at the material as I tried it on over my mail. “Dragonscale I reckon. Though I don’t know how they could have worked it”

The material was a perfect match with the new additions to my arms.

Next, I took up the medallion. It was not large, perhaps no bigger than a Freeport mint platinum piece. Around the edge, in some strange, jagged language was written “A Trevia mal Drakon ne’ la Hei Nadrox” – The dragons path through darkness shall be true.

The center of the medallion was a simple, yet intricately carved symbol of a dragon encircling a mountain. Inset into each eye socket was a shard of a blue gem and a red gem. Even to my newly trained magic senses, I could feel a deep sense of power within, yet all traces disappeared the moment it was hidden from view.

I slipped it onto a leather cord and placed it around my neck inside my tunic. The letter I put into my backpack.

Seeing that I was finished, Guildmaster Trushot continued. “Now about your Journey. Before you got sick, you had finished most of your packing, and when we took a look you were on the right track. You probably would have been a bit wet in the spring months for a while, but nothing you couldn’t easily remedy. Since you were laid up, I took the liberty of finishing your packing for you.”

Well, that was one worry off of my mind… He continued.

“After that, it was simply a matter of finding you a Journey partner. Luckily for you, Pathfinder Jankeck has agreed to let you accompany her to Fededwar.”

My gut froze. Pathfinder Jankeck. She had a near legendary reputation. The same type of reputation one uses to scare rambunctious ranger children into obedience. To this day people still talk about the poor ranger unfortunate enough to drop her favorite bow on the trail. I don’t think they ever found all the pieces of him…

Guildmaster Trueshot must have seen the look of horror creep over my face, for he stearnly rebuked me “Now don’t go giving me that. Sure, she can be a bit on the grumpy side sometimes, but she’s alright once you get to know her. Besides, she knows more about tracking than most of the warders here anyways, so if you pay attention you should do well.” He chuckled. “Just don’t get on her bad side… that can be painful. She’ll be here first thing tomorrow, so you have some time tonight to get ready.” And with that, we headed back towards the glade, skewering the odd gnoll on the way.

Later that evening, I sat down to my last meal for a while inside the guild messhall. The cook, as usual had prepared a feast. I think he over did it a bit due to all the rangers out on journey. Everything was wonderful though. A nice, flaky fish pie, with a side of broiled tubers and a Berry Compote for desert. Yum! In 3,000 years I haven’t found anyone who could cook a berry Compote like chef. As I was leaving, I complemented him on the meal. He smiled, then handed me a small package. By the pungent aromas coming off it I could tell it was spices.

“Jankeck likes a bit of cinnamon in her morning cocoa.” he told me with a nod. I thanked him, and slipped the package into my journey pack once I was back in my room. Tomorrow, the Journey would truly begin…

That night, my sleep was restless. I remember dreaming of traveling to far off lands, which oddly enough all seemed to look like surefall, except the residents there all spoke with outrageous accents. You know, that fake dwarven accent you used as a kid to amuse your friends? Yeah, that one. No dragons though this time.

I awoke early in the morning, a summoned lightstone slowly blinking in and out of existence above my eyes. With a stretch and a yawn, I hit the cutoff switch on the intricate wooden alarm totem and the lightstone blinked out. After a quick shower and some breakfast, I strapped on my armor, grabbed my pack, and headed to the courtyard in front of the mess hall. There, waiting for me, was Pathfinder Jankeck. Up close, she looked shorter than I had remembered, at least a full foot below my own height. Tough and wiry, Jankeck had the look of someone not to be crossed. She was dressed in traveling leathers with a few pieces of armor plate. At her side, she wore a largeish 2 handed long sword with a polished mithril hilt and a large amber stone set lengthwise, just catching the first light of the morning sun.

She looked up at me as I approached. “punctual. Good. I like that” she smiled a cold, feral smile. “now lets see if you are going to slow me down!” and with that, she took off like a startled hare.

Lucky for myself, I had the presence of mind to fix my tracking senses on her before she got completely out of range. Swiftly, I followed. I could tell from her trail that she was moving at a high rate of speed.

“darn, she must know I can’t summon a wolf spirit yet! This doesn’t make sense” I grumbled with a curse. We continued on at this pace for the better half of the morning. Gradually, I became aware that she wasn’t actually trying to lose me. Every so often her footprints would deepen for a few steps, as if she were waiting for me to catch up. Then it dawned on me that this was a test. She knew I couldn’t keep up with her, but she wanted to see what I would do about it. I had heard from other journeymen that some ranger mentors like to do that to get a feel for the one they are mentoring.

I resolved not to fail the test, and quickened my pace.

More time passed. Lunch was a chunk of waybread and cheese on the run. I bagged a few passing woodland creatures during the run. Dinner would be much better fare, I assured myself. As the sun moved further across the sky, Pathfinder Jankeck began altering her path, changing course in seemingly random directions, doubling back around me in circles. At one point, I think if I had turned around quickly enough, I would have caught a glimpse of her.
We continued our game of cat and mouse for perhaps another hour. By this time, my legs were on fire, and my back, unused to the relatively heavy weight of the pack felt as if some gnomish experiment gone horribly wrong was beating a xylophone beat on my spine. That is when she finally took pity on me. I almost tripped over her in surprise as I burst into a small clearing. A cool stream trickled nearby to the left. I looked at it longingly.

“Welcome back!” Jankeck chuckled. “I was beginning to think you had gotten lost back there” she finished with that same feral grin.

I tossed a brace of rabbits beside her by way of reply. “I stopped to grab us some dinner along the way. I didn’t think you would mind” I finished, with a grin of my own.

Her eyes widened slightly with appraisal. She nodded “well well, Guildmaster trueshot said you would give me a good run. I can see he was right… Today. We’ll see how well you hold up tomorrow.”

I set about to starting dinner. Luckily, there was plenty of stones around for a fire pit, and a recent storm had left the area littered with deadfall. I soon had a small pit dug out in the sandy soil. I then lined the edge with alternating stones, and placed two sturdy forked branches upright at the edge. I covered the base of these branches with mud and a few stones so that they would not burn through, then dressed and spitted the two rabbits. A small clump of wild garlic, and other assorted herbs, and a bit of salt finished the seasoning. With that done, I turned my attention back to the fire pit. I stacked smaller pieces of wood leaning against a larger log, my goal being both cooking coals and warmth for the night. A quick fire spell, and 30 minutes later, we were ready to eat. I saw Pathfinder Jankeck take a cautious bite of her meal, but soon she was diving right in.

“Whatever else I may say about you, kid, you sure can cook!” she said, with a real, unfeigned grin.

The rest of that first night was fairly uneventful. I think we were both a tad bit tired from the long run to have much energy to talk.

The next morning, I took the Cook’s advice, and dropped a pinch of cinnamon in the pot of morning cocoa. Pathfinder Jankeck was particularly grumpy that morning for some reason, so it is probably good that I did. She didn’t say anything that morning, but as we were leaving, she did summon a wolf spirit to ease my traveling.

Our mission was to deliver medical supplies to various villages around norrath. To this end, we set off from Surefall to make the long run to the northern desert of Karana. (you must remember, that at this time, the druid ring in surefall had failed, and would not be restored for several thousand years. Also, the climate of norrath was still recovering from the last great mage wars) where we were scheduled to meet a Druid, who would take us to Fededwyr.

It took us several weeks to make our way across the western Karana desert. At that time, the wilds were full of bandits and brigands, as well as the assorted monster, so I got in plenty of practice. Pathfinder Jankeck and I also occasionally sparred. She inevitably won, but she would always teach me new tricks, and so my swordsmanship rapidly improved.

Our journey continued, until one day, we finally arrived in the northern desert of Karana. We followed the dry river bed under the ruins of the great stone bridge of Ab-nor. And made our way towards the druid circle. Along the way, we kept running into baby griffons and griffon eggs. “Someday these are going to be a real problem for everyone” muttered Jankeck under her breath. I couldn’t help but agree.

Once we arrived at the druid portal, Pathfinder Jankeck sent a psychic tell to our druid friend.

We waited… and waited… and waited…

No druid. Jankeck tried again. A look of consternation crossing her face.




She started to speak. “Something is terribly, terribly wrong…” when suddenly the very air around the druid circle started to warp and shimmer, like the heated air over a morning fire. The effect spread to a larger area, engulfing the pillars completely, then swirling upwards now tinged with green flame. The effect looked something akin to a tornado of energy.

The runes on the columns began to glow, flickering with the effort of trying to focus the tremendous energy. A few of the columns even visibly shifted out of alignment as the energy vortex continued to grow in size. Then, with a clap of thunder, the sky split asunder, revealing a giant orc-like creature. The displaced air from the abrupt teleportation of the huge creature knocked me flat on my back. Momentarily dazed, I looked on with horror at the hideous blue green visage before me. The giant turned it’s beady red eyes on me. Dimly, as if from a great distance I could hear Jankeck screaming something at me. This snapped me out of my haze. I moved

Seconds later, a huge club left a 10 foot gash where my body had been.

“MOVE you snot brained pile of badger *****! We can’t take this by ourselves!!!” Jankeck screamed at me. She pointed to the river to the south. “Run for it! I’ll try to slow it down.” She finished as she tossed a fresh wolf spirit my direction.

I ran. I could hear the sounds of the battle behind me, but every time I slowed to get a better look, Jankeck would start screaming at me. She was keeping out of range, sending arrow after arrow into the slimy blue beast. A tangle of thorny vines appeared to be slowing it down somewhat, but it was still gaining on us.

We reached the river. Neither of us was equipped for a swim, but it began to look as if we would have no choice. Suddenly, with a roar the creature turned and began clawing at the air behind it. Then, in silent contrast to its entrance, it disappeared in a flash of nothingness.

We both sat staring at the ground before us that had so recently held promise of our imminent demise. For a while neither of us spoke.

Finally, I came up with some words that sounded something close to being elvish. “What the hell was that?”

“I have no clue” replied Jankeck, a troubled look on her face. “Hold on. Let me try make contact with Faraine the Druid again.”

Faraine? You there?
Yes! Where the hell are you? We’ve been trying to reach you for hours!!! Someone attacked the glade, and we’re getting reports of some strange creature wandering around. A full 30 of our Journeyman pairs are completely out of contact and have been for hours. We know at least 4 of them are dead. Something is up Sarah, and I don’t like it one bit…You will like this even less. Let me tell you about what just happened to us…

* * *

A room. A large room decorated by gilt framed paintings and elaborate tapestry. In the center, a candle-lit dining table set with an opulent feast for three. A fourth place stands empty at the foot of the table. At the head of the table, a large cloaked and hooded figure. Red trim and intricate black runes decorate the outer edges of the cloak. From the hands of the figure clasped together in concentration on the table, we can infer that the figure is not a large man, despite his apparent size. To his right, is seated one of the Tier’dal. She is dark pale blue in coloring, devastatingly attractive in a cruel, yet malicious manner. A visage men would be willing to kill just to look upon, and have. Her heartshaped face framed by pale silver hair sets off the silver emblem of the Nightstalker brotherhood prominently displayed on her black leather tunic. Opposite her, a large ogre with a huge scar running diagonally from above the right eye, down through where his nose should be and ending near the left corner of his mouth sits patiently sipping at a pear and lobster broth from an engraved golden spoon. He has the look of a warrior about him, yet there is something cold, a bit too methodical, in the precision with which he considers the meal that would make the unwary break out in goosebumps for no reason.

A scrawny and pale elf enters the room. His features are bedraggled and worn as if by age, and a look grim as death is fixed upon his face. He does not look happy to be here.

The robed figure gestures to the empty seat. The elf sits. An awkward silence drags on for an eternity.

The elf speaks, half choking. “My lord, there is a … setback. Our translocation of the Kharvuto failed”

For the briefest moment a flash of silver could be seen under the hood of the cloaked figure, about where eyes would be. The elf in the far chair falls lifeless onto the table.

The dark elf assassin chuckled, a throaty evil laugh. “My dear, you must learn to control your temper. He hadn’t even brought us desert yet, and now we’ll have to break in another slave. And you do know how messy that can be.”

The ogre continued to eat, picking the meat from a shank of mutton.

The hooded figure made no immediate reply. His large meal untouched save for a heavy cup filled with a strange pale green liquid. Eventually, he spoke. A voice cracked and aged as death itself. “He has placed himself in opposition to me and protected the one which we must eliminate.” The Dark elf looked puzzled for a second and glanced at the dead elf. The robed figure continued. “You know of whom I speak. The emerald drake. This cannot be tolerated. Maybe it is for the best, for now we know exactly who we seek. The game is just beginning.”

TO BE CONTINUED….


Edited, Fri Mar 12 23:54:31 2004 by Kaolian

Edited, Sat Mar 13 00:55:28 2004 by Illia

Edited, Tue Mar 23 15:48:16 2004 by Kaolian

***
The next morning was relatively uneventful. I helped Jankeck with the examinations, administering doses of powdered Quinberry and Klethfoil (to help bost imunity and magical resistance) to the young dwarves of the encampment. Faraine worked on healing some mining injuries with the older set. We finished shortly before noon, and ate a light meal before saying our goodbye's and heading towards the Feydark forest. Shorsten took me aside shortly before we were to depart, and pressed a small silver hammer with an etched rune on the side into my hand."Here lad, take this wee token.'Tis the symbol of the miner's council (The miners council acts as an advisory board to the thane, sort of like the Bayle parliament, but without the political clout). I've imbued it so that any of my kin who sees it will know to give you aid if you need it. We kanna afford to have that bauble you carry lost. What secrets it holds must be preserved. Good luck to you lad!

And with that, we departed.

As we crossed the kalad mountain pass into the Feydark, I caught my first sight of the great Sylvenwood trees. Tall, majestic gaits of the forest. Each tree here older than any other known living thing on the planet. The air under their leafy foliage was cool and crisp, with a hint of some unknown spice. Almost like cinnamon. Rays of sunlight filtered in through the leaves, a gentle breeze causing them to dance back and forth across the mossy earthen floor far below, weaving a lightshow tapestry .

We made our way down towards the forest center. Overhead, the first platforms of Kelethen came into view. I extended my senses. So many people up above!

As we neared the path to the lifts, I heared an unusual <Crack> sound from above. Jankeck shouted" Heads up Kao!" I looked up, just in time to see a fist sized roundish silver object headed straight towards my head> ....

When I awoke, I was sitting on the ground, staring up at the sky, the residual aura of a healing spell fading from view as Faraine lowered her hands.

Jankeck looked over in my direction. Once she was satisfied I didn't have a crater in my skull, she said in an exasperated voice,"what is it with you anyways? We're here for 5 minutes, and already you have been hit in the head by a once in a lifetime sylvenwood tree seed? Do you have any idea what the odds are against that?" she wandered off then, muttering something about unnatural things happening putting her in a bad mood. As an afterthought she tossed the sylvenwood seed to me. The seed was smooth, silverish grey and slightly waxy to the touch. It was slightly pointed at one end, and rounded at the other. The seed also seemed somewhat warm to the touch.

I was broken out of my reverie by Jankeck, who shouted "come on, get a move on it. We're running late! And bring that bloody seed with you". And so we continued to the main lift of the Wood elf city of Kelethin. We were accosted briefly by a scrawny little human dressed in some cobbled together monk/priest robes. He tried to hand a dilapidated and slightly worse for wear flower to Faraine." Peace sister, the Discordant one wants you to have this flower. Would you like to like this free information pamphlet? Here have three? I can answer any questions!" He looked so pitifully hopefull, almost like a puppy that has been kicked a few too many times. Faraine had a look of resigned distaste on her face. She was about to say something when a small orcling wandered up and knocked the human to the floor. I started to gather the energy for a flame spell, when the little guy picked himself up off the ground and charged after the now fleeing orc. Flower raised on high, as one might hold a broadsword. He got about 2 hits in before he dropped again. Jankeck tossed a heal spell at him, and said quietly "poor guy."

Farine Snorted. " Bah, these discord cultists are starting to pop up all over the place. Some sort of whacky non-violent chaos theory or something. Everyone of them loony as a fruit bat. But enough fun with the orcs, let's get you to the guildhall.
>
> As we made our way up the lift, I had a startlingly profound moment of insight into wood elf culture: They are all insane. I'll explain.

The very first woodelfs, split off from the high elf line during the sundering, came to the Fededwayr forest early in elvish history. They found the forest good, and soon built a settlement on the ground near the great trees. The harvests were plentiful, and life was good for a season or two, until the orcs came. Old Kelethen was burned to the ground in a single night of raids. The woodelves rebuilt. Again the orcs came. This went on for several years, until one day someone had the bright idea to build a treehouse. When the orcs came back the next season, they found not a city to raise, but an aial fortress, full of angry woodelves armed with bows and heavy rocks. The only problem is, none of the idiot elves thought to build handrails. Every so often some traveler will come along and suggest it, but the wood elves just laugh and ignore them. And that is why all woodelves are crazy

We arrived at the top of the lift. I spent a few minutes staring down at the very long drop. Then concentrated on staying very firmly in the middle of all the platforms and ramps as we made our way towards the Ranger guildhall. Jankeck kept checking each vendor we ran across, asking them if they had any bat wings for sale. What on earth could she want with those? Then I remembered. The levitation spell. I started checking vendors myself. But we did not find any bat wings along the way at all. Turns out there was a bat wing crunchie cook-off in town, and there were no winged bats left in the area to be found.

We stopped along the way to drop our gear off at one of the guest huts, then finished the climb to the ranger guildhall. The plan was that I would stay here for approximately 2 months out of the journey. In that time, I would work with the wood elves, the high elves, learn the best ways to hunt orcs, and maybe even get a chance to see the faerie royal court as an apprentice ambassador. But all that would come later. As we entered the guildhall, the guildleader, a master Swiftshot, waved at Jankeck and Farine.

"Welcome back to kelethan!" He shouted with a booming voice and a broad smile that one might not expect from such a tiny woodelf frame. "Farine, I see you found our wayward rangers. The guild thanks you again! Jankeck! Great to see you! And who is thi..." He stopped in mid tirade and looked at the seed." A Sylvenwood seed!!!!! Everyone come quick! Get the mayor, it's a Sylvenwood seed!!!! He cackled with glee

Suddenly I was surround by onlookers. Sounds of "ooooohhhhh ... Ahhhhh " and " Can I touch it? What's it like?" filled the room. Soon a large-ish woodelf with a tall black feathered hat entered the room." What's all this then? Someone's done found a Sylvenwood seed you say? Where's it at?" he asked in a well practiced" Official Question" asking voice. I took this be the mayor.

"Er, it's over here ..." I said as I held it up for him to see. He stared at it for nearly a minute, tension slowly building in the wood paneled room, when suddenly he exclaimed" Why, so it is!!!! This calls for a celebration!!!!" and with that I was summarily dragged off with the crowd, to show the rest of the town the new discovery. I shot Jankeck a helpless look, shrugged, then went along with the crowd. Once everyone had been shown the seed to their satisfaction, They all got down to planning some sort of big seed planting ceremony. I used the lull in the action to make my way back to the ranger guildhall. By the time I made it back, I was quite irritated at the lack of handrails. Apparently I picked up Jankeck's habit of muttering, because I was grumbling about crazy woodelves and lax safety regulations when I wandered inside. Jankeck grinned." Crazy woodelves indeed" she agreed. So everyone got to take a look at the seed I take it? They'll probably want you to help with some sort of planting party this evening. It's been a while since they've seen a new seed in the area. About 500 years if I remember correctly. "

The sylvenwood tree is a unique organism in Norrath. Legend has it they were here before even the eldest of dragons, perhaps even before Vesheen herself scarred the world. The trees grow nearly exponentially after planting for a full year, during which theya re extremely vulnerable. After about 1 year of growth, their protective bark starts growing in, which will increase in strength over time as the tree grows. Some scholars believe that the trees actually tap into lines of innate magic that run throughout the world, maybe acting as a conduit, distributing the magic over a wider area. After 8 or 9 centuries the trees start to become aware. At first it is simple things, some emotions, basic telepathic imagry communication (hungry, thirsty, need fertilizer, etc). As they get older, their range of elven understanding becomes more apparent. The woodelves use this to their advantage, with specially trained mages giving the trees direction on where to grow branches for woodelf hut floors. IT is a symbiotic relationship. The trees gain protection and care, the woodelves gain a home. It is said with the oldest trees, in the heart of the feydark, one can have a fairly decent conversation, provided one sticks to simple topics.

I spent the rest of the mid afternoon getting to know the city better. Where to find the best fletching equipment, where to go for supplies, and more importantly where to go to find some bat wings. I had a few hours to kill before the seed planting thingy, so I grabbed my bow and went batting. It was a nice, farily uneventful break in the action, and by the end of an hour I had just about as many bat wings as I could carry. Feeling a bit adventurous, I took the platform back up, then cast the spell. Levitation spells are another one of those spells that I tend to have a knack for. I have to be careful not to put too much into it.