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Forest of Li'Dnesh
A grizzled ranger makes his way through the noisy throngs
of Midgaard, an empty but well-worn pack slung over one
of his muscular shoulders. He pauses for a moment's rest
on a nearby park bench and is soon approached by some very
young adventurers. One wide-eyed and eager youth questions
him about his travels with a nervous mumble.
In a booming voice, the ranger answers, "Where do I hail
from? Well, lad, if you make your way northwest of here far
enough, you'll come across a small, little-known forest.
That's my home; a place I first discovered when I was just
about your age. I fell in love with its quiet tranquility,
the true touch of nature's gift, and over time came to care
for the land there and all its inhabitants. I do travel
here to the city occassionally to replenish my supplies,
though."
The ranger rubbed his wrinkled fingers thoughtfully through
his peppered beard, thinking of the growing menace that now
inhabited his quiet corner of the world. He wondered to
himself if the battle that now waged there would be his
last, and if it were, who would carry on after he was gone.
His eyes focused back on the youths before him, and he
smiled broadly.
"You young scamps should come by and visit me some time. You
just may find one day you'll want to call it home, too. If
you'll excuse me, I need to gather my supplies and head home."
With that, the ranger wends his way through the crowds
towards the general store, leaving a babble of youthful
excitement in his wake.
Date Posted - 05.07.2005
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