From the shadow

[Xhanum]

Think on better times Pesar.  Remember cool Autumn Harvest eves and soft breezes.  Remeber the last time I pressed you to my breast.  Hold that memory as I do, and I promise you, my son, we will yet be together in this life... or the next.

Whether you shall read these words I know not.  I pray that somehow, if there is justice in this world, you gain a measure of comfort, be it by my words or deeds, among the living or the dead.  You must know that I have done, and that I now do all which is in my power to find you.  Never suppose that I have given up, or done or wished less than my all.

There is more than pain, more than suffering Pesar'am. Reflect on my love for you, which you know is unmovable, and I will help you to understand how things have come to be.  The tale begins long ago. Long before I was a child like you, in the time of my Father's Fathers.  I will tell you of their times that you and I may be edified by their wisdom in this dark hour.  

Hear me my son.

[Xhanum]

Our grandfathers lived in peace for a time. They held no malace and sought no dominion outside the vale's of their habitation. Destruction was visited upon them Pesar, just as it has been visited upon us. In their day, a peculiar people began to fill the country round about them. The indignities suffered upon the land, and the perfect contempt for all living things so clearly demonstrated by this race, layed a burdensome decision at our grandfathers' table. When pressed to flee or defend life, the Esfehani, along with all the noble houses, took up arms in what came to be known as the great Dwarven wars.

The wretched events you and I have witnessed in this day, distress the soul as a river in high flood distresses its banks. I have asked myself, more often than I care to recount, how it is that I find the fortitude to hold back the forces raging against me and not collapse to the ever present deluge. Yes, at last the end would come swiftly, but it must not be permitted.  Erase this very notion of capitulation from your mind my son. Take courage in a knowledge of the history of our grandfathers. They stood up to the destruction and raging of their enemy, and found within a capacity to perform all that which was required of them. While many of these dear ones were lost, their Dwarven enemies were ultimately subdued, forced to retire their vile cause.  

Take courage in this heritage Pesar. It is within each of us to rise to greatness beyond our own vision. I know this of myself. It will be so for you.

[Xhanum]

Now my son, this is not all. Having laid down their weapons of war, and after a season of peace, our grandfathers stalwart were visited once again with hellish destruction. I speak of the division between Top Elf and Dark Elf. It is true, Pesar'am, that in the beginning, Elven kind was of a single house, but this history is for another time. I wish you to know of the deeds of our fathers in this struggle. This new generation had been born into peace, yet delivered unto conflict. Our fathers, like their fathers before them, heeded the call to arise and take up arms. They practiced the art of war and visited swift death upon their enemies. Again, we see Pesar, that  in the hour of need, the Esfehani have found within themselves the capacity to confront any enemy who would destroy peace.

I tell you of myself, this is not vengance. It is not hate or rage. I am compelled by the cause of peace to raise my hand where chaos has overpowered order. It is the desire of my heart to spare all people, even all races, from the pains of warfare, but to do so requires first that evil be subdued. Our grandfathers and our fathers understood this Pesar. They sacrificed their all for this cause. I now do the same. If you yet live, I pray you see a lifetime of peace beyond the ending of the conflict now joined.

[Xhanum]

In truth, I rehearse this tale not for your edification alone, but for mine.  Long seasons and unknown days I remained in the shadow of destruction, fear... my only companion. Laughter, song, and life eluded my recollections. Spoken words became strange to me. Even the brightness of your eyes seemed a distant and fading memory.

Like the spring fawn seizes upon the Doe's teet, I did seize upon a knowledge of my potential Pesar. The history of our ancestors pierced my heart and I grew in courage.  I saw the world through my mother's eyes as she struck out from her war ravaged home, carrying her tiny bundle in one arm and a blade in the other.  She rehearsed this same story to me, of how the few remaining Esfehani Elves fled toward distant lands and a distant promise. Our history recalls a division among Elves which had been free of bloodshed. It is told, as the Metallic Dragons had retreated centuries earlier, the more spiritual part of our people had pursued them. In her desperate struggle to preserve my life, your grandmother pressed on with nothing more than hope for a welcoming kindred home in a peaceful land. How then could I abandon hope?

Now Pesar, you must understand, when destruction was visited on our peaceful home, it came without warning. As I returned to our Vale that bitter supper hour, that dark day, it was as if a shadow had been cast, stretching Eastward beyond the horizon. No woodland creature remained to make a sound, save the very trees which quaked and trembled where they stood. In place of the warm fires and inviting hails of dear ones, I discovered a dark and numberless host of invaders. A trail of fantastic desolation, wide as a sunset, plainly marked their course. Had I not fled in that moment, I too would have surely been cut down in the same hour.

[Xhanum]

I have oft considered how, by some means unspoken and unseen, the woodland creatures take flight from danger. This flight however, is not deliberate action, but the consequence of being acted upon, for a beast gives no thought to its flight, save the next step, or leap, or glide. They are compelled to preserve their lives and in so doing, fill the measure of their creation. This is peace.

I am beginning to find peace Pesar. Though my torments have long wracked me with guilt over the abandonment of my dear ones, I know that my actions were not my own. I made no decision to flee or hide in cowardice, but to take only my next step, and then the next until, danger at my back, I had secured life for the coming hour.

At last, in the city Hlint, among many of the noble and the great, I have begun to fill the measure of my creation. I have hearkened to the lessons of our fathers and tasted of my potential. I have shaken off the rags and soil of the vagabond, having gained the wisdom to take deliberate action at all times, in acknowledgement of all senses. I have arisen a Ranger.

[Xhanum]

Wonders all have I beheld, and more than once have the strange powers of conjurers stayed my end.  I confess openly in the reality of the divine and the arcane. I have stood in the company of those few who wield a spectacle of might against evil. These truths I shall never esteem lightly, yet I say plainly, even loudly for the Gods to hear my words, if there truly be Gods to listen, I trust in none of these.  Gods may fail the heart of the follower.  Mystic powers may evaporate as morning dew.  Spectacular and inspiring to the weak in character though the works of magery may be, the greatest power one may possess is to know one' self... to accept both flaw and strength, trusting in self... to become perfect in spite of imperfection.  I have begun this journey.  My trust lay in the arm of flesh where derelict Gods and peeping wizards do not fail me.  The bow does not quit me before my strength. My shafts do not scatter in the wind, but fly true. The sting of each volley does not transform, at its mark, to a puff of smoke or a tinkling chime.  

Pesar, the greatest among us know themselves. They trust in themselves. This is the power they wield, and it does not fail them. Seek this first, that you may never find yourself wanting in the absence of an unseen God.

[Xhanum]

Now, I tell you a portion of my preparations as a Ranger, that you may know whereby I give this counsel. In knowing one self, one must know their instruments as well.  The tool is clumsy and crude in the hand of one unpracticed, but the instrument is the extension of its master.  My instrument is the long bow.  

This oaken long bow has become the expression of my will. It was crafted for my hand by a wood worker of some fame, name of Jacchri. It is said that even the best bow never found a hillside without an archer, and the best archer may graze a weavel's ear with a simple green reed, but the best bow in the hands of a skilled archer is a deadly implement to be sure. The blade, the club, and the spear all have their place, but with the bow, the enemy may be thwarted before effecting an offense.

Though I have little skill in the craft, I have learned the principles important to bow performance. The bow should be long, extending from the tip of the toe to no less than the top of the head.  A nice straight selection of hard wood without blemish and with a uniform grain is essential.  Hickory, Oak, and White Ash may be cut green and dried. Black Locust, Mulberry, and Osage should be taken dead and standing. The back of the bow should begin with the first annual ring of heartwood, or from the sapwood above it if the sap is thin. Spring may be coaxed through careful tilling of the belly, thinning the stave evenly along it's length in order to share the burden of bending. Even the best wood cannot take being mistreated by weakening one spot too much, but a bow gets stronger as it dries, which must be planned for. The best bowstring material is twisted sinew. Twisted gut or rawhide will also do.

Soon, my skills will have surpassed this oaken bow and I will be ready for a greater instrument.

[Xhanum]

I have also learned of the peril now filling the farthest reaches of the world.  Little did I understand durring those many months hiding by day and moving by night.  Since arriving in the town Hlint, much has become clear.

A merciless and numberless concourse of death seekers descended on our fair home. I do not call them soldiers, for a soldier has honor, yet they do assemble and fight as an army.  At the head of this dark army is the one called Blood.  Some know him as Sinthar.  I have watched and listened intently that I might learn something of the fate of my dear ones Pesar.  Some say that captives are pressed into service in his hideous army.  Others say that these wretched servants of evil have no souls, but are animated by a dark wicked power beyond this world.  I have even heard tell that Dragons are caused to serve Blood in a state between life and death.

Above all, I know that I can not yet stand against the ominous power of Blood's minions, yet I am developing strength beyond my ability to imagine with each passing day.  I have also been taken into the confidence of many mighty and true defenders of peace.  The day will soon come Pesar, when these heroes will sever the head of the snake that the body may wither and die.

[Xhanum]

On the skills of the Ranger...

When one is learned they suppose themselves to be wise.  Yet wisdom comes from reflection.  Wisdom is within.  Many have their Gods, and Gods may grant gifts to their servants, it is true.  Yet, I do not wait on the gifts of Gods who choose to reveal themselves behind veils or turn their attentions as the wind.  Some may say that all things are God, or that God is in all nature. If it be true it matters not to me, for I know whence wisdom swells in me and its source is sure.  

Mine is not the way of the Druid or the Paladin.  Though I am possessed of some modest understanding of the elements and forces of nature, I draw my strength from the arm of flesh.  The bow is my might.  The arrow is my sting.  All else is as the moss to the tree; the babble to the brook.  In my hand, the bow becomes flesh and bone and wisdom.  It shoots fast and true to each target, finding those tender parts under the belly, behind the ear, beneath the arm.  From a living stand the bow was taken, shaped, and dried.  In my hand it snatches life to itself again as it delivers death to my enemies.

Of the many skills of the Ranger, silent movement, casting of a keen eye, listening for the hurried heartbeat, and all, only the grip of the nock and the light brushing of the fletching on my cheek under a steady draw, stir me to my core.          This is not the path of all Rangers, but it is the only path I can be true to.  I can not pretend devotion to an absent faith.

[Xhanum]

This day, my purpose has been revealed.  

I have oft contemplated the wisdom of my cohabitation among the races of Hlint.  Difficult and unsettling as this has been, I have also forged relationships of trust with a few of the residents, finding a sense of belonging so nearly forgotten.

Recently, an unfamiliar race has arrived in Hlint.  These creatures have the body of a lion, with the torso of a man extending from the place of the lion's neck.  Their heads are as the feature of both lion and man.  In the common tongue, some call them Wemics.  

The first of their kind who I encountered did not speak, save unintelligable grunting, yet was clearly intelligent. The next two I encountered communicated both in a manner I could not comprehend, and after the manner to which I have become accustomed conversing with woodland beasts. With some difficulty on my part, we found common ground of language.  

It seems that these Wemics have arrived in this land just as the other races have.  The subject of great curiosity among the towns folk, they have been uncomfortable and vexxed.  I took them to Ranger's Vale where they felt of the peace and solitude needed to sooth their agitations.  I have much to explain to them.  I suspect they yet know nothing of the evil one.  

I could sense their discomfort in the town.  My actions gave them sufficient cause to place confidence in me.  With that confidence, which I will not betray, I am certain we will learn much of one another.  This is my purpose as a Ranger.

[Xhanum]

Recent news came to me from a member of the brethren of the faithful.  It seems that the evil one has inspired one Milara to march on Rilan with a substantial host.  Though the defenders of that kingdom are mighty, they may well give way to the force in array against them, and if they do, Mistone will surely be next.

I have given my pledge to Ael, who speaks on behalf of the pious, and Nex, who represents the workers of magery.  I now seek able Rangers, and any who are skilled in silent movement with a keen eye.  We must discover the weaknesses in Milara's marshalling.  An army of any size will require substantive supply movements, or at least clean water and plentiful game.  If we can determine a means to depriving this army from supply, then we tip the defenders hand.  

Once I, or my Rangers, discover the weakness, word is to be taken to the Inn within Hlint's walls.  There, Ael and Nex will wait for the information that they might assemble an appropriate force to execute the plan.  Disruption and demoralization of the enemy are the goals.

This is no rash action.  I have observed a council of the brethren of the faithful in which I was permitted to address the body.  These holy men compete on the methods by which to act, but they are unified in their ultimate goals.  I spoke on behalf of those who follow no God, but pledge both sweat and blood at the side of any who would champion the ideals of peace and liberty.  Many of us are prepared to take up the art of war that we may secure a lasting peace.  I have made this point clear to Ael, who has been most receptive to my overatures.

The time to act has arrived.