A Rangers Tale. The Journal of Aeron Steel

[bowfreak]

*A light earthy smell permeates this small journal. It's cover is made from bark and it's pages are crisp and filled with a styalized script of various colors that gives off an aroma of flower and herbs.*
 
 It's been a long time since I have walked among humans and others. The world has changed much since Blood. I was but a teen when the war was at it's height. I did not seek glory nor fame....only solitude. I went where I have always gone. To her bosom. Katia. Since I was but a small child I have felt the forest tugging my heart strings, playing me as if I were some instrument. Perhaps I am.
 
 New threats have begun to rear. A word, a creature not heard of for a very long time....Dragon. There have been reports of sightings. A most disturbing turn of events. How much revenge will they take upon the land? How many more forests will she lose? And of those other always constant pests, goblin, orc, ogre and other manner of foul beast. They intrude further into our heart. They must be exterminated from the green havens. But...of these none compare to the greatest threat to her forests and to life. True abominations...the undead. The mere presence of these creatures defiles the land. It permeates the soil with a cold that has leached every bit of life from it. These are the true enemies of Katia. These...Undead. I will not rest until I have freed the forests that have fallen to these wretched cretures. The strenght must be restored to the land.

[bowfreak]

*Written in a green ink that smells of ivy. This page also contains various sketches of bows*
 
 Mother. It's what she is to me. She nurtures me. She provides everything that I need, and gives me the solitude that I desire. She demands nothing of me...yet, I offer all I am to her. Food, shelter, clothing and companionship. The forest has a bounty that can match no other place on this world.
 
 To awaken everyday to such splendor. The morning calls of the avians. The rustleing of the undergrowth, beasts awakening to an early repast. The forest is alive in ways unimagined. We all share of her bounty. So to does it not fall upon each of us to preserve such a bounty?
 
 But there are those who would destroy such beauty. The expansion of all things civilized. An industrious race, humans. We sally forth in the name of all that we feel is just and good. Destruction, war, famine, disease. These are plights brought upon by such deesd. So to does the Forest suffer. It is raped of her bounty again and again. Whole tracks are cut for the sole purpose of fitting as many people together as possible. The creatures are hunted to exhaustion. Soon the forests bounty is no more.
 
 Why? I fear that I may never understand.