No Rest For The Wicked

Ranger Travel Log #27 : Defending our Forest

I awoke suddenly to blazing light in the darkness, 30-35 feet down but still irritating enough to disturb my peaceful slumber. Whispers from nervous men who knew they shouldn’t be here and torches to light their path through my forest. The moon cast a slight silver glow over the ground in places where the trees parted to let the light through.

My companion and teacher Tyrnemitore was just out of the torch light, already awake, bow drawn and carefully studying the small party below. He silently signaled me to take aim. There were at least six of them by the sounds of their footsteps and heavy breathing. This was no “random” explorer party, these men were here seeking vengeance. Sadly for them, this would not be their day.

Company Loggers, reckless scourge of the forests, these men belonged to a group who mercilessly cut down trees to make their flimsy fortress and fires. They believed attacking at night would give them the advantage. Tyrnemitore had even keener senses than I did, we hardly needed the beacon of a torch light to draw our arrows to the necks of these unfortunate trespassers.

Not a sound was made until four of the six men fell to the ground slumped over. The short one panicked, beads of sweat dripped down his stubby face. He looked around frantically, turning completely around still convinced that demons haunted this forest. The taller one tried to stand brave, stating he would have our hearts as trophies. Not the wisest last words for a trespasser, this was our home and we intended on keeping it.

Tyrnemitore nodded to me and mouthed “Jhaeli bai Mesoyls” (Leave no Survivors). I can’t help but feel sorry for the unfortunate creature on the other end as I let my arrow fly.



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