A Ranger's Repentance - The Journal of Kregor Boldheart

[KregorRanger]

1 Kythorn 99

I spend a moon in Myon to get away from the affairs of the Bramble, to spend it in refuge and simple company, and I return to find the hells broken loose.

Apparently, there is unrest in Cordor as the Guard tries to protect the folk of the city from the Patrician's Elites who have suddenly chosen to use their power to harass and have their whim with simple folk. A moon's long uprising threatened to plummet the city into civil war between the people's elect and the forces of the fat arsed despot truly in charge. Seems the worst of it has died down, and ended up of little concern to our folk outside the walls. But if it happened once, then the seeds have been planted sufficiently that all it would take is the wrong sort of rain to give it sprout again.

Further I receive the news that Wharftown conducted the live sacrifice of one of the wyld's creatures in a tribute to the B*tch Queen - in the sight of my Lady's temple overlooking the waters. That it was made in blatant spite to Her presence as the patron of the village is bad enough. That it also defied the principles of the Forest Queen - and the very principles that founded this troupe that Warftown's own mayor once claimed kinship with - was like a slap in the face. As a result, our negotiations for treaty with the settlement to tend their outlands has ground to a halt.

The meeting with Amana did not go well. She sounded off with the same repeated din the Heartwood stagnates in - that of tradition for tradition's sake. Heartwood's is a tradition of ambivalence and inaction. The ritual Amana led in Wharftown is a tradition of fear and ignorance.

My Lady is sufficient. I prayed not once to a wretched goddess of seagoing bandits as I tread water to stay alive in the Trackless sea before arriving here. I shall not see one of Jannath's innocent creations torturously slain for Her appeasement either. If Wharftown devoted their prayers to the One who is supposed to be the matron of their town, there would be no need for such sacrifice.

Perhaps, it truly is time to try to gather a Fellowship of the Moon upon this isle. With Malarites holding fast in the Forest outside of their village, and the B*tch Queen holding the folk for ransom inside their palisade, perhaps tis time to give this isle a good taste of the Lady's light.

Regardless, if there is to be another First Tide in Wharftown, next time, I won't be on holiday, so as to make sure our folk are there en masse to prevent the drowning.

[KregorRanger]

*a letter, tucked inside of the journal reads*

My Dearest Kregor,

I wish I could tell you this in person, but I must be swift, else I might be too late.

I received word this tenday, that mother's health, back on the mainland, has taken a turn for the worse. My uncle has asked for me to come to tend to her, as she wants to go to live on the Green Isle before she passes to Arvandor. I am leaving on a ship to the mainland at dawn. I will be taking her to Evermeet, and seeing to her needs until she enters her last reverie. And then I will be tending to her affairs with our family after her passing.

I cannot ask you to come with me, because you have a cause to serve, and I would not take you away from the good you are doing upon Arelith. As you said it, our cause rises above that of a single person. I know that we've had long separations, and we've waited patiently upon each other for our paths to stop having so many interruptions. But I cannot ask or expect you to bear me being away for what could possibly be years.

So, I am releasing you from having to wait upon me. This doesn't mean I won't miss you, and remember the good and the bad we've shared together. I will hold you fondly in my heart, always. You sealed my belief that there are good people in this world, and that your kin and mine can truly find a common place together.

Please take care of our forest, and our kin. Remember, you will always be Sha'Quessir in my eyes.

With Love,
Ze'Dayne

[KregorRanger]

17 Flamerule 99

Happy birthday to me.

The letter was left beneath the door of the workshop. Being busy, I didn't read it right away. Funny that, I usually read any message from Ze'dayne without hesitation, for at least it was something to get me through the tendays and moons that we remained an island apart.

Chalk it up to distraction. I was distracted by the matters at hand, by so many things happening around me in the Bramble and farther out. Distracted by the sacrifices in Wharftown, and the audience of the Mayor on our hilltop so she could continue to cyclically argue her reason for allowing it, while showing she is as spineless as a politician as she was a ranger.

The distraction of worrying for the well being of Elora, whom I've still not heard from in moons, since she last brought information to me about the underdark - and now I am truly afraid she may have given her life for the sake of me, trying to prove herself still worthy of my respect, of our kinship, and the emotions that we dismissed, but that never faded.

Whatever it takes, I will do.

Does this imply the cost, or the means, or both? I needed the knowledge I gained for the bid for freedom, and for the safety of the wylds. Without her, my path would never have crossed with the Mapmaker's. She proved that she deserved all those things I'd ever allowed her, and more. A necessary evil, the things Elora was guilty for by association, and I can't help but wonder if she sacrificed herself for me, by looking into that abyss so long that it became her, so that I wouldn't have to.

I was distracted by the fawning of yet another youngling apprentice whose advances were unceasing, who once refused for the third, and final time, ditched completely her profession for the wilds to go back into city for the whim of finding someone to return her affections.

I was distracted as I came back from a moon in Myon to find the hilltop with no reports, no leadership, and half a dozen newsworthy events that weren’t circulated, or even paid mind to. I get word from the local Sunites that the shrine in the northern part of the wood was ransacked and looted. No one seemed to find it, or report it, and when they came to ask if I had any word on investigating it, I had no idea it had even been sacked, let alone any one actually reporting it being done.

The hells do I have rangers on this hill for? We’ve had plenty of recruits - and they leave the hill and go wandering about the isle like upstart adventurers. They have a job to do. This is not a fraternity that gathers on the holidays, tis supposed to be a pack.

But tis not. Devin called it. We’re not a pack, we’re a scattered mess. And I am no alpha - I’ve allowed my second in command to backtalk me, gainsay every decision I’ve made, and berate every attempt at diplomacy I’ve attempted in the past several moons. And I’ve let our troupe degrade to the point that there’s no order, no communication, and no true kinship.

For all the distraction, I missed the boat. I didn’t even get a chance to tell Ze’Dayne goodbye.

Time to shake things up a bit again. Foregathering will commence at the beginning of Autumn, and I may piss a few of our folk off. But by the gods, they’ll do their jobs.

There will be no more come as ye are and go as ye please.

There will be no more fawning and contention over my attentions.

There will be folk who stand for this wood’s defense, its balance, and each other - who will actually give a damn about it.

[KregorRanger]

1 Elesias 99

Without a past, I cannot appreciate what I have, or from where I've come.

When I landed upon this isle, I had nothing. Loss had taken everything that I held dear to me - my clan, my home, my mate, and almost my life. I arrived here broken, alone, and feeling as if I'd failed my Lady and those I loved. I lived my life seeking a way I could earn repentance, and atonement for falling short. The past haunted me then, for I didn't know how to forgive myself, even if others would.

In this moon since Ze'Dayne departed, I've been struggling between the feeling pain for the loss, or some measure of relief from closure, as the time spent in Myon did nothing to change or mediate the fact that we would still spend moons of time apart.

The time we shared did grant me comfort, and her faith in me and forgiveness of my past allowed me to overcome the grief of failure and to forgive myself. Fate brought someone to my path who endured the consequence of my past actions - one of the elven clans I had failed as the black bloods overran them and took their refuge away in the Hullack. Yet she forgave, and embraced me, without condition, and called me elf-friend - the name I was given by my clan for my pledge to their cause, a name that I could no longer speak of myself, before they came from her mouth, in her voice.

She is gone now, and I reckon it would be years before I might again see her, even as a friend. I can console myself in the thought that fate placed her in my path for the purpose of teaching me how to forgive... and to be forgiven.

I seem to have a talent for not holding on to those I cherish - to somehow have them torn away from my reach. None of them ever as tragically as Mai'ae.

In the past moon, events have brought me memories of her. She was a Black Archer - an unlikely candidate for anyone to have as a mate. Yet beneath her hardened, stoic surface, I found someone who was vulnerable, who had her own scars within that led her to toughen her shell. We were paired as skirmishers to flank our oncoming quarry. Our coordination was unspoken, and deadly, and we were kin and comrades from the moment we stood side by side and blade to blade. In the field, we were one, inseparably. From there, things seemed to just happen. I called it curious infatuation, when she seemed to spend more time bandaging my wounds than was needed, that grew into passion, and then into a love that was so inseparable that she insisted on leaving with me as I was exiled from our land by a corrupt nobleman - a love that would lead her to lay down her own life, in the hope that I would somehow survive as the ship's crew was paid to murder us at sea.

Perhaps my fate should persuade me that I should be alone - not trying to fill her space with another, but to fill it with the devotion to my cause, and the oaths I have made upon this isle that now number three - with the covenants and promises I've sealed for the better of this isle.

It complicates things.

It shifts our priorities.

It distracts from things that are better tended.

And there's plenty that still needs to be tended.

[KregorRanger]

21 Elient 99

Autumntide, and down to a new core, it seems. This last foregathering saw almost no one turn out. Devin who arrived with me, saw it as visible evidence that something has gone awry.

Ronan seems to have finally strayed - not reporting to us, or even wanting to confront me face to face. Our druids are all but gone, Jihael having tried to rally them and establish a formal circle, also now seemingly gone. With the number of rangers and druids that have wondered off, and do not respond to summons, I am presuming we just outgrew our ability to police ourselves.

Starting with me, we refocus, and regroup once more.

I am supposed to be the leader - the Alpha. Setting the prime example of what we stand for. I intend to be taken seriously, and intend to have folk with us who are as serious about the cause as I am.

The analogy of the pack, a tight unit that works as one, seems to be a fitting model for our troupe. Answering to each other and ourselves, aiding each other without thought or word. Those that remain seem already bought into the model. Devin and Storm now join Aly'ne as Guardians, both of them having no hesitance whatsoever to speak their minds about the behavior and attitude of the folk who will answer to them.

Soko has been a reckoning presence within our pack in the few moons he has been among us. A follower of the Lone Wolf, he understands the concept well. He has no problem calling those who are idiots what they are, and he has no problem holding back his opinion.

Nhala returned, and of course she buys into the model - she lives it in her totem already. At least we will hopefully have her rooted here as a healing force, for tis healers we lack badly now.

Pim, I have not seen in ages, for she spends her time hunting with Ronan now for as long. And my gut tells me that she fancies him. I pray it won't come down to choosing sides for her. I need to find her to talk with her, and to impress our new focus, and see where she stands.

And I have a new apprentice, whom the others have stepped forth to aid in training. But she is a hot head, and impetuous. Sort of like Ronan, and that didn't work out so well.

Pared down to the core, plus one apprentice. Seems almost like starting from square one again.

And to top it off, Asherrin came up to the hill the same day. Along with Mila, with another grand scheme to exercise control over the isle. I thought we'd gotten rid of this with Cassima's disappearance, but Olina was right - the infection beneath the fester still remains, and she even called it as to which of Heartwood's folk would be the ones to come out with the ambition.

"To wage war on settlements" that don't agree to their terms, and cooperate toward their goals, is what Asherrin said. I was hoping I'd misunderstood, but even Storm confirmed the way it sounded to her. It rings the same as the words of Cassima, when she tried to convince me to join my folk with her, saying that with our combined strength, we would hold nature's whim over the settlements.

Terror is still terror, regardless of the intent. Absolutism for one's sense of cause even an alleged good cause, is still tyranny.

No extreme is good. For freedom to flourish, all must be in balance. That includes the reach of the settlements, and the wylds, and their influence over each other. I will not join my hand with a plan to dominate on behalf of either.

Gather new kin, and those that remain.

Stand, live and die as a pack.

[KregorRanger]

The contents of the journal have been transferred into a new binding.

A hand crafted journal with a cover of strong wood, decorated with intricate inlay work. Carvings and paints enhanced by the select use of various gem dust varieties. Yet when touched, the surface feels silky smooth, not a single nook or indentation out of place.

The whole scene is held in subdued greens, blues and the soft orange-golden glow of the rising sun, mirroring in sparkles of water. If held open, the entire panorama of the Nexus Falls can be recognized. Terrace upon terrace of flowing silver bands collect in pools below. Mithril dust and silver dust give the water a lifelike sparkle. Pressed oak and cherry wood, cut into fine feathered lines show a majestic giant eagle flying over the falls - its feathers painted in painstaking detail.

The edges of the cover give away, that mayhap in the past, the book had been lovingly used as a journal previously, rebound and turned anew, ready to be filled with new content. On the book’s spine, at the bottom, a small, almost inconspicuous carving can be spotted. It shows two curiously watching cat eyes, framing a small white dove’s feather between them.

[KregorRanger]

28 Uktar 99

Hells of a month.

The drow made a direct assault raid upon our camp at the first nightfall. Nothing permanent, thank the Maiden, except for several instances of broken pride, and a full assessment of our defenses by their scouts, and how well we could withstand even more later.

Just a moon prior, they sacked and defiled the burial ground where I make my prayers of memorial to Mai'ae. This time, we were the target.

Several times prior my kin and I warded them off from our woods as they prey on younglings for slaves and sport. This time I wasn't there. Our numbers are reduced, and we're spread too thin. We didn't even see them coming.

Whatever it takes, I will do. Now, tis personal. No quarter, and no mercy for the dark dwellers and their cohorts. And I will have to seek cooperation, that requires swallowing my pride. Gods, of all the arses I have to kiss, it has to be hers.

Swallow my pride with one, forgiveness toward another.

The mapmaker confessed of deeds done during her slavery - how she was forced to give her maps away, and how she blamed herself for the raids happening around us. What is done in pain and fear of captivity, is not our choice alone. And one thing Ze'Dayne taught me - perhaps the single most precious - is that tis by our intentions, not our actions we should be judged.

I forgave her.

I can see still the fear and hurt of all that she endured in the underdark; the scars she's suffered even to keep herself free; all at the hands of assassins, dark dwelling sympathizers, and the same Malarites that are likely the reason Elora disappeared. I saw hope in her expression upon forgiveness, along with sentiment I was not prepared to deal with.

Getting caught up in sentiment and emotion complicates everything. It makes us concerned for things in the wrong order, and it hurts like hells when ye cannot protect or hold on to that which ye cherish.

And it distracts from matters at hand.

I didn't know where they came from, but they appeared within the Bramble while I was in the company of two of my brothers, and the Mapmaker that same night after we discussed the aftermath of the drow attack. Flashing lights, followed by appearances of undead around us - increasing in strength. It should have been a clue to me that they kept progressing in strength, and that we were lured by the lights to pursue. It should have also been a clue that the strongest kept disappearing before they perished, when we found difficulty in slaying them.

It should have. But I was distracted by things still weighing on my mind when they appeared.

I was beaten down rather badly, by some undead child, before Catalin pulled me away and had me revived. Down too quickly, sloppy of me. All I remember is a child’s cry, and then looking up to see Catlin looking down at me, despondently wrapping my wounds.

It was all a test, and one of us has been chosen, according to the voice that followed. Chosen for what, gods only knew; or demons, as the case may be. Her name was Dionne, and she said it would be a test, among those chosen. Til the time came, we were told to seek the diary of someone named Eldafire. Work together with all of those chosen, she said, or guarantee failure. Those who win shall lose, and those who lose shall win.

Looking for answers, and awaiting to find out who among our number is "chosen." All the more to weigh upon my mind.

[KregorRanger]

15 Nightal 99

It's coming clearer, what it is we're meant to do.

Eldafire's journal has been located, and Catalin acquired it. We now know more about this entity known only to us as Legion.

An intelligent, extra planar race - best as can be described - that watches the beings of Toril, like some giant ant farm. What we've been chosen for, is a test, or experiment, of some sorts.

One of our number will be one of six chosen to play their game. What we still don't know is what to expect, or which of our number is the one selected.

The last time this happened was almost a century in the island's history. And the one named Eldafire sacrificed herself to foil the game. I will not see the same fate befall my one of my brothers.

And not her. By the Moon's first light, not her.

[KregorRanger]

10 Hanmer 100

It comes to mind, as I write this, could the last time this Legion came to the isle, have been the turning of the era? The calendar's reckoning seems to reflect it - it's first century having turned this moon.

There's no mystery any longer, about who among our kin the Legion has chosen, and I will not have the opportunity to shield Catalin by taking her place. It chose us both.

We know the names of all six chosen - including the eldest of the Eldafire clan. I reckon it had a sense of irony, to select the bloodline of the one who thwarted them before.

Now we wait again, we wait to see what tests lie ahead, and whether we can survive them. Tests presided over by a demon judge. At least I can feel confident in leaving my Guardians in charge of the wood, should I falter.

A retreat is in order. Time away from Hin, and bickering, and the politics that are running at least three settlements into the ground - one led by a former sister who forsook our path for power, attention, and a harem that pales any rumor of me spread by the Loss Lover; another that intends to grow it's bounds with impunity into the outlands; the last, the city, in the control of an alleged paladin turned despot, who is a liar, a cheat, and a thief, who is bleeding every dry every coffer to which he has access.

I've prepared a place that should suffice. Let's see if it can evade the incursion of messenger and demon alike.

[KregorRanger]

20 Ches 100

Not a single hin, nor passerby, not even the bloody demon found it's way in. Retreat was good. This is a good spot. Perhaps someday it will hold that cabin when I've grown too old to run the trails.

I found peace - not just for my mind, by my spirit as well. The answer to my wandering, and I am content.

What the Dark Sister took away, has been given to me anew.

[KregorRanger]

10 Kythorn 100

The Legion continues to tarry us with little word. This continues to weigh upon my mind as other things come to play to complicate situations farther.

The Zhentarim march upon Arelith. Though I did not know the nature of them when my second received an audience from theirs, it was clear the intent was a breach on freedom.

They wished to set up camp within our land, as a vantage point to Cordor and the Mage Tower. Devin refused them, as she should have. Even without the treaty in place I would not permit a hostile force to stake within free land. Their parting words were grim enough, however, that I'm persuaded they will be back.

Over the next moon, they have marched upon every settlement as a show of force, or merely a test. Mercenaries, the most of them, but unmistakably Zhents among their leadership. Our folk have aided where we can, but our neighbors up the mountains have borne assaults without time for us to respond.

Worse still, the Malarites who wish to use the chaos of invasion to collapse the logging town, and lay blame upon the Zhents. This may be easier than a mere boast, as their high huntsman is said to have a similar device as the Zhents possess themselves.

A void stone. What in hells is a void stone? I've few answers, and perhaps only the Mage Tower might offer an answer. But the High Archmagus in charge of the tower now is such an idiot, I have my doubts.

Gods, I wish Amelia were still here. And Kainda. They managed to resolve many a crisis on the isle far better than some of the younger blood that claim to take their place.

Further I'll expect little help from those in power in Cordor. As the councilor couple welcomed the Zhents into the city's gates. Give the Zhents an inch, they'll call it theirs. Truer colors couldn't shine brighter from the Councors' actions, and all the false paladin in control does with opposing words or council, is seek to exile or shackle those who speak it.

Those who answer the call to personal power can not hear the song of freedom.

Even if he steps down as he professes intent at term's end, he has already instilled others to carry out his vision of "good" in Cordor - a vision that could carry ripples to it's outlands and beyond, if they allow the Zhents to have ground, and leave the land with no militia to defend it.

We need new recruits. Badly. If tyranny would root itself within Cordor, by my Lady's first light, the wylds will stay free.

[KregorRanger]

25 Uktar 100

The last foregathering went without a single recruit coming to show interest. Jihael made her presence for any young Druid folk, for which there were none. No rangers or scouts either. Elion was there, our newest blood that shows a potential to stick, as well as my second. Otherwise, the only stirring upon the hill came with a young scout who showed up unawares of the gathering. Jasnah, I believe her name was. She shows potential and Elion took her to scout the gobs' hole to asses their numbers, and the young scout. He's earned his stripe as journeyman, a decent sort, fellow faithful of the Forest Queen. He stood with us as we aided against the Zhents in Wharftown. He's going to be a good brother for the pack. At least, we've knit larger by one.

Meanwhile, Catalin lay recovering from a demonic wound in our workshop quarter. Devin warned of the things prowling the road toward Wharftown, but I wasn't prepared for them. Wasn't fast enough, and one of them got past me to her. I almost lost her - once on the field, and once to the fever of infection afterward, as it stubbornly refused to heal, and she stubbornly tried to refuse me tending to it instantly.

She is persistent, impetuous, headstrong, and yet I still see the fragility of her beneath all the orneriness. The demons that drive her do so, for the sake of seeing none suffer the same torment and captivity she suffered at the hands of the drow. Tis not very different from the demons that drove me in my repentance for my failures. Can I impress upon her the limits of her humanity, to at least the point that I don't have to fear losing her as well?

I reckon we have to meet in the middle with our fears. To find the point that we can focus on our causes, on the oaths we share as brother and sister of two oaths.

To guard and steward the wylds, it's flora and fauna. To protect the well meaning who wander through it.

One of the most recent captives of the drow was taken from our boughs. There were no rangers to keep her safe. The most effective way to deliver the innocent out of the drow's captivity, is to prevent it in the first place.

Kainda would tell me that nature folk come in seasons. If what we had upon our hill when we cleansed the forest of undeath was harvest, then this feels like the drought.

The Heartwood wishes to convene at a moot. I've agreed to such come midwinter. I'm not confident of this yielding much reconciliation, but if the once warden who first declared out forest independent from their circle, can have enough hope to persuade it, then I shall grant the opportunity. Perhaps the cooperation will aid our cause.

And with any luck, perhaps Mila and I shall continue to refrain from strangling one another.

[KregorRanger]

10 Uktar 100

While taking cat to map out the old keep and its perimeter, we discovered the cause for the gobs' growth in the Bramble.

My other kin may have missed it, but she spotted it dead on - banners of House Vh'larra were hanging in the main hall. The drow are obviously supporting the gob stronghold with funding, possibly supplies, who knows what all the mongrels are getting in trade for bearing the drow banner in their hall.

I owe the darkskins for more than one transgression against my home and kin. I'm done with them treading upon my grass.

[KregorRanger]

***A page is tucked into the journal here:***

Midwinter Moot - Minutes
by Journeyman Catalin Snow

Attendance
The Midwinter took place at the Dreaming Tree, as a place of "Coming Together" and Coordination. Attendance from Heartwood Grove was slim - One member, Knox was present. Other than that, the full core of the Bramble Watch, the Warden Kregor, the Guardian Devin, and Journeymen Catalin and Soko. Further, Velkia Verenko sat in attendance and so did the unaffiliated druid Burin Earthly and the Ranger Balthur Greystone. Later, the moot was joined by Ranger Hawk'in Jonathin Underleaf.

Discussion Points
The points discussed were the number of threats against the wylds, the cooperation betwixt the forests and the low numbers of rangers and druids walking the forests. The threats were fairly easily summarized: Drow raids in the brambles, Duergars and Goblins at Brog, Grondhouse symbol at the Crags, Goblin Camp in Minmir active, The Golems of Nyx and the Tower's Archmages, some of whom exiled from Cordor. One, all agreed on, so long as the Forests stand divided from within, victory over the threats cannot be achieved.

Cooperation between the Forests
Burin points out that both covens share one goal of Balance within the wylds and the responsibilities of being the very guardians of this balance, leading to the importance of cooperation, as infighting creates imbalance. Many rangers and druids wander the forests unaffiliated with either the Watch, or the Heartwood.

Consensus was reached, that in order to ensure best efforts between all Rangers and Druids of the wylds, the Dreaming Tree was to be the anchor of communication.

To this end, Roster Boards will be put up within the Dreaming Tree, together with Report Boards. Further, all locations of the Rangers and Druids, namely the Bramble Fortification, the Campsite behind the Myart Shrine, the Pathfinders Cabin, and the Heartwood Grove shall have their reports mirrored at this location. The roster upon the Dreaming Tree will provide contact information and shared resources between all nature walkers, and list areas of growing threats to call for collaboration.

A pledge was made, by the Bramble Watch, and those unaffiliated present, that in case of crisis, each should follow the beckon of another - One would wait for the Heartwood Grove High Druids to confirm and strengthen the pledge with their own.

[KregorRanger]

Midwinter 101

To be as emissaries of the wylds to convene in peace with the settlements,

The second oath I swore myself to upon this isle - after the Code of the Road - was one of my own penning. I took a stand upon the hilltop in the Bramble Wood, on a little outpost that had seen decades overlooking the land around it. I learned more about it as I was greeted by those who guarded it as Warden before me. It started out as a small outpost for the Heartwood Grove, under the cover of their druidic circle - a rallying point for rangers and a training ground for acolyte druids before they would progress to join the circle in Heartwood.

Division came quickly, as I heard the recounts - the young forest being so disconnected from the Heartwood and with so many different needs that many of the orders of the druids either did not understand its unique needs, or in some cases even dismissed it as inconsequential. Fighting even happened between the rangers of two forests over the treatment of the land. In the end, a Warden named Gentlebreeze declared the Bramble Wood sovereign and independent of the circle in Heartwood. Winter after winter would then pass with varying degrees of cooperation or alienation.

When I first took the helm as Warden, I sought reconciliation. I deferred to the druids of Heartwood on many an occasion, I took the effort to plea for a High Druid from their circle to preside of the youngling priests of the Bramble. One such High Druid after another came and went, and ultimately neglected our acolytes, making it to where they either joined Heartwood, or hit and missed on their own.

When the highwaymen took control of the Bridge on the Trade Road, calling themselves the Liberated Territory, and began to clear the lands east of the bridge, I went to the circle for counsel. The Archdruidess offered no assistance to stand against it, merely saying to watch and observe - wholly ineffective to stop the impact on the land.

When Cassima came to us, with her plan to seize Heartwood in a coup, we stood against it, and brought our numbers to stand in Heartwood’s defense, if need be, and when the true leadership of the circle presented themselves, we had our voices heard to choose a new Archdruid. We were promised a new age of communication and cooperation then, only to be left out of the loop and disregarded once more.

When we rallied to Benwick to cleanse it of its infernal taint, our entire core came to the call. Not one of Heartwood’s fold came to the task, and all we gained when we reported the event to the circle afterward was one of our number slain by Mila’s touch for stepping on the wrong patch of ground within.

Many winters ticked past still, and we began a long term of simply ignoring one another, concentrating on taking on the burdens of balance across the isle onto our troupe’s shoulders as Heartwood faltered in numbers. Sadly, as nature folk do in fact come in seasons, our numbers faltered as well, and we found ourselves ineffective to even canvas our own land fully.

Today was an effort of reconciliation, at the plea of the former Warden who first declared our independence from the Heartwood. My hopes for such were not high, when I realized the two Heirophants would not be present, but we carried on, with their deference to our leadership to propose a way we could all benefit one another for our common cause.

Twas Catalin’s idea, that we would have the moot at the Dreaming Tree - a place of neutrality not only for our folk and Heartwood’s, but for errant nature walkers as well. It turned out to be a wise suggestion, as we hosted not only our kin, and theirs, but a number of those unattached to either. All of them open to find a way to work in tandem against the imbalances and threats that continue to go unchecked.

The solution devised is simple, yet promises to be effective - the Dreaming Tree will serve as a common ground, protected and warded against any but those of like minds, for each to gather, and post their intentions and pledges to the cause - to connect groves, and outposts, and free wanderers to the dangers growing upon the isle. Pledges were sealed between those in attendance, and I ended the moot, persuaded that we can truly meet toward our common goals, in peace and cooperation.

Our cause not only rises above that of a single person. It also rises above that of grove, or pack, or errant wanderer. I realize that now. And where I had once fallen short in reconciling our wyldlands, the new years solstice has promised new hope of it.

To serve as a first defense against those who would trespass,
And as healers of the wounds left in their wake.

[KregorRanger]

Midwinter 101

It was a somber ending to a Widwinter's fortnight, as Ser Roland came to the Heartwood with a plea of desperation. The devils, long banished for many a winter from Benwick's ruined streets, were once again walking them. Despondent, he rested from flight at the campfire built at the Pathfinders' Shed for the Heirophants, the Mapmaker and myself to find retreat. He was a defender of not only Light Keep, but the wylds around it and their balance; he befriended the druids of the Heartwood, and those who called the outlands around Benwick home. We took sympathy, and agreed that we would set into the streets of Benwick, and push them back once again.

Hellspawn of all sizes, shapes, and demeanor were walking the ruined city's alleys, and we pressed forth - the Mapmaker never more than five paces behind and left of my shield arm, and Ser Roland pressed forth at my right. The druids flanked with their prayers. Countness spawn advanced, but between us, we cut our way through, and toward the once-proud arch, determined to send the beasts back to the bowels they erupted from.

Suddenly from my right, the paladin was flanked, beset by a large fiend that surrounded himself with chained minions. He was dragged away from my side, and I turned, trying to cut my way past the mound of hellspawn that pilled upon the knight even as he continued to fight. By the time the large one fell, Ser Roland lay fallen beneath it.

Navira reached for her bag, to bring out a scroll of revival, and recited it, only to see the lifeless body still not stirring. She murmured a word of denial, and pulled yet another scroll and recited it, tears coming to her eyes. Mila tried to attune herself to the knight's spirit, only to give us the news that he had passed beyond the veil.

We buried him that day, in the tourney grounds with his fellows that perished when the Keep fell, in a way that the Druids felt would be fitting - by cutting down as many of the foul fiends that would stand in our way toward the east.

Good had lost a champion this day - as well as did the wylds. The friendship that existed between this knight and the grove was a true illustration of the cause that I stand for - that the wylds and settlements may exist and prosper in balance and peace with each other. The first day of renewed cooperation between our forests had concluded with a promise to Ser Roland's spirit that these spawn would once again be cleansed from the prime.

Gods' speed, and find your peace, Ser Roland. May my Lady light your way home.

[KregorRanger]

10 Alturiak 101

We have forever.

A time of retreat, once again needed and welcome. I'm not only persuaded at this point that this hideaway might hold a cabin someday, but that it won't be the shelter for a hermit after all.

Yet I don't see retiring happening any time soon. Still too much to tend within our forest, too many threats, and too many loose ends. But at least, I am secure that I won't do it alone.

However, it seems I have to mediate the tension between my help mate and my second. I have tried to talk to my second to allay her mistrust, and she denies it being anything but circumstance far removed from Catalin's presence. Sadly, I don't know that I believe her. Catalin and I have discussed it now, and I think her suggestion bears good, objective observation. Devin is not a leader, he wishes to follow. She defers to her betrothed as it is. So I presented it to them this way, that Soko would be named second, and Devin should be his help mate in the task. She will lead, as he encourages her.

Storm has been amiss for a while now, and I fear I may have lost another Guardian. We may need this alliance of nature walkers more than we know, should our numbers in the groves continue to dwindle.

[KregorRanger]

1 Tarsakh 101

Fears confirmed. Flagged down in the city by Storm, for the sake of telling me she quit. According to her, I'm so far up Catalin's arse that I ignore everything else. Her words. More like she was lacking in affection and let her jealousy reach a boiling point again. This is only the third, maybe fourth time she's quit our pack out of anger that usually stems from not being my mate.

The anger and resentment of being turned down for my attentions has to stop. At least three sources of such strife have quit out of their rejection. Monie was one of the first - a total waste of my effort to bring her into the pack, and teach her the ways of the wylds. Nhala left second, and finally Storm's departure will be permanent, because I'm not going to beg her to stay any longer, and reinforce her attempt for bad attention.

For her to direct her venom squarely at Cat, for Devin to say that Cat distracts from, and doesn't contribute to, our cause. The amount of venom among the females of this pack against her has me at my threshold. Catalin once tried to tell me she's not half the ranger that our other kin are. Yet, she has helped to foster our cooperation with the other nature walkers of the isle - even being the one who suggested the Dreaming Tree as the anchor for our unity. She has reached out to younglings who might embrace the path - even a young girl last night in the Nomad, who had found herself lost, and accosted by the Drow, and collared by them. We took the girl out to the hilltop, told her of our cause, and by the night's end, Eve had pledged to aid us in the forest as she would seek refuge from the magics of the collar that might pull her back.

In truth, Catalin shows more spirit and understanding of the concept of a pack, than some of those who claim to embrace it - including one who can't seem to grasp the concept of picking a single mate, and those who've left that can't seem to embrace coming second.

Tis the first time, since Olina, that I've had a true helpmate - someone whose presence serves to reinforce and motivate my own, and who carries the pack by adding her own momentum, rather than bickering about mating privileges. I'd hoped I'd found such in Ze'Dayne as well, but the longer she stayed away from my side, and the more momentum she lost with the pack, the more it would become a closure rather than a tragedy when she finally left the isle for good.

I'd already resigned to being alone, and dismissed the vies for attention from those still among my pack. I reckon most of those I refused were satisfied that I'd have no one, if not them. Who among them remains now is telling of their true sentiments, regardless of empty words otherwise.

Those who would join the pack, or remain within, will have to deal with the fact that I am content, and complete. I have no reason to wander or be distracted any longer.

I am a Sword of my Lady, and a Needle of my Maiden. I am a defender of the Wylds, and those who wander thru it. I am a guardian of the ways and paths of the isle and those who travel upon it. I am a protecter of the balance, and the greater weal of all goodly beings. I am the Warden - the Alpha of my pack, no matter how large or small. Those who would run with me, will run with all of the pack, or none of it.

[KregorRanger]

19 Tarsakh 101

I finally had him where I wanted him. Cornered, but apparently not cornered enough.

Torvas had come to the Mage Tower, I reckon to use the portal to go elsewhere. I moved into his way, as he put his hands to his blades and drew them.

I didn't draw my own blade, I second guessed myself - showed respect for the place I was in. Even though I'm certain the mages wouldn't have shed a tear if I lopped off the bloody Huntsman's head.

I looked for an eye. There was only supposed to be one. The mages said they took his eye. Supposed to be karma for what he did to Catalin. He stared at me with both of them. Must make sure to get another one later.

I should have taken him then and there, without another word. But I had to know. He had to tell me what he did to Elora.

He hesitated, for but a brief moment, then the bastard taunted me, how I'd never know where she was, and I'd never have her again. Resolved I'd beat it out of him, I made a move, only to be distracted by the creaking of the door.

Mila walked in, gods be damned. She must have scried him and come after him. One distraction, a split second too long. He jumped past and into the portal and was gone.

I have already resolved it in my mind and heart that Elora is likely no longer with us, but I need to know for certain, and I need to know if he had something to do with it, for if he did, the hells will have no refuge from which I won't stalk him and have his head.

But I won't risk Devin to the task of keeping close to him. Not anymore. I won't chance losing another that I care for, to his hand.

[KregorRanger]

25 Tarsakh 101

The boards have been placed at the Dreaming Tree. They are a work of art, wood left rough hewn and assembled such as to meld with the surrounds of the great tree itself. Catalin did a masterful job, and worked diligently after we'd gathered the branches and timbers for it. A good use of the resource, to promote and facilitate the greater balance of the wylds on the isle, in a form that enhances, not detracts from their environ.

Returning from the task, I lent aid to Arna, a veteran among the Heartwood I felt could gather their rangers as a Warden would. He has since left Heartwood to reside in Myon. He and I exchanged our sentiments about the disconnection of Heartwood's rangers. Perhaps, this bridge of unity at the Dreaming Tree will draw them together, and perhaps a clear and present leader among their ranks will solidify himself. Stormwood? Perhaps. But I've seen him so little of late, and he seems content to let the rangers of Heartwood to their own agendas - and he to his, and the Pathfinders.

Returning to the city this day, to post notice of our collaboration, I read another post from Gentlebreeze, on the forming of yet another guild of scouts and rangers. Tis one thing to partition off our folk to keep it from becoming unwieldy, and another to feel we're stretching ourselves way too thin for the few folk of nature who have been seeking fellowship the past few winters.

I questioned not the rationale behind Cassima's attempt to bind those of nature into a single force of reckoning, rather that she would have done it at the expense of freedom, and to the threat of entire settlements that would object to her whim and personal power.

I am leaning toward putting my faith in the alliance of the Dreaming Tree to bring us all together for the cause.

The cause rises above that of a single person, and also above that of a single forest, or settlement, or faith or faction.

That there is a balance between the wylds and the settlements, that both may prosper without encroaching one upon the other.

That all people may walk in freedom - free of fear and free to live their lives as they wish.

[KregorRanger]

A parchment tucked into the notebook here

Rallying Call to All Nature Walkers

Let it be known that the fellowships of Heartwood Grove and the Bramble Watch have joined in cooperation, and reach out to errant wanderers of the wilds, in order to tackle threats to the cycle in the greater spanse of the isle.

Our newly forged fellowship wishes to call all of ye, affiliated with grove or nae, to come to the Dreaming Tree within the Arelith Forest, and place your name to the roster of those willing to aid in this cause, read and post threats to the balance found across the isle, and pledge to answer calls to aid when the call comes.

Moonlight guide ye, and the Forest Queen make your paths safe,
(signed) Kregor Boldheart, Warden of the Bramble Wood

[KregorRanger]

14 Mirtul 101

Ended the evening well, by finding my betrothed en route to the Dreaming Tree to check the boards and who all may have answered the call to join our roster. She agreed to go with, asking to stop by Burrowhome to send for the dragon-born Caistina, in order to give a set of maps to her.

Whilst waiting for her friend to arrive, we diverged to talk of folk of old among our pack. She mentioned the hin skin shaper Maggie - who apparently has returned to our forest. This brightened my spirit, as Maggie was always a cheerful presence, be it in the forest, or in the Nomad as she worked for Kainda. I was saddened by her initial departure, and angered that it came at the hand of Stormwood taking it upon himself to criticize and question the mud hut she had burrowed at the bank of one of the forest's ponds. She kept wolvesbane growing and tended in our wood, and with her departure went the last truly dedicated steward of the plant within. This time, I will make it very clear that she is welcome, as well as her burrow and her garden.

Maggie's conversation with Catalin also brought the topic of Kainda. To this day, I still do not know what happened to her, or why she disappeared from the isle. For decades she had served as a chaplain for our troupe, and was a source of spiritual strength and guidance for not only us, but the entire isle. I told Cat about the rift crisis, and the building of the astrolabe she herself talked of using during her mapping, of the devils being pushed back in Benwick, of the myriad of crises upon this isle that Kainda lent her care and persistence to seeing done. I'm saddened that she has not seen our forest once again purified of the undeath that haunted it. Perhaps, it was part of why she is no longer here - she loved this forest as much as I or any who have called it home, and she would have done, and did do, just about anything to see it no longer teem with wailing dead.

What Cat said afterward was true - the pack lacks a true spiritual point. We have no chaplain, nor priest of any sort among our number now. Olina tried to fill Kainda's shoes, I grant her that - til her heart was taken by the foul darkened wench that has once again started poisoning the isle with her presence. I had hoped for Ze'Dayne to be able to fill her role in succession - perhaps her fleeting absences were in part due to having more weight upon her shoulders for the deed than I should have asked for her. Perhaps tis part of the reason we fracture and roam so easily now - the pack has lost its heart. It sorely needs another.

How ironic, that as we spoke that eve of Olina's falling from grace, the Nightseer herself should happen upon us outside the hin fort. She knows now. She knows I have found one who again holds my heart fully. She couldn't resist taunting, and challenging my intentions and heart in front of my mate.

"Love is a lie; only hatred endures."

Layla's half right. Contrary to her words, I have had no greater love from within or without than I do now, in the one who walks beside of me. The Silver Lady restored to me, that which was lost. However, there are a few with whom my hatred burns as clearly and intense as the day they broke my heart. She is one of them, the Malarite another, and there is no room for forgiveness or grace in my soul for either.

The dragon-born arrived in the company of another, Gabrielle. Both of them bore the metal clasps of the Drow. One of them kidnapped from the very forest we steward. I spoke little, choosing to let Catalin speak to her friend, rather than impose myself. I'd already had my words of apology thrown back at me by Gabrielle in Wharftown some weeks past. I'd reckon I'd just put my foot in my mouth again. Cat's words speak better for the promise that we would do anything we can to continue to pursue both women's freedom.

As they went their way, we travelled with my new Second along with us to the Dreaming Tree. Soko had happened upon us just as the confrontation with Layla became tense. While I do not fear the Nightseer, it is encouraging to know when I stand against her, others of my kin stand with me.

Tired, and my mate at my side as Soko has left us. I've better things for my time than to write further now. I'd rather spend it setting out for our home. Perhaps once we arrive at our destination, I shall find the peace to write more.

[KregorRanger]

17 Mirtul 101

Morning. My heart and soul rests beside of me, so deep in slumber that I dare say I don't have to take care to avoid waking her. Sometimes, I never want to leave this haven, tis quiet, and truly peaceful, and the one place I can feel truly secure that nothing on Toril could sunder us.

*a faint blot of ink here, as if the pen were left idle against the parchment, then it flows into a carefully written line*

Warden of my heart.

She says we have to make another expedition into the 'dark. Her maps are in question, and she needs to verify that they are still accurate. I made her promise that she would not enter in again, lest I was with her. She then likewise made me promise the same. I feel like it was more a ploy to try and persuade neither of us to venture into the deep earth - for neither of us wishes to lose the other, and neither would wish to see a clamp around each other's neck.

I would lay down my life, sooner than to see her in captivity again. And I would fall upon my own sword before surrendering my own freedom. We will have to be stealthy, and nothing but, she says. Any altercation would alert them to us, and right now, a surfacer in the 'dark is nothing but entertainment for the reigning Drow wench who controls the undercity.

My brother of two oaths, Alair, now wears one of the metal clamps. He traded himself for another. Sometimes I wish he wouldn't be such a gods' damned martyr. His order of the Knights of the Road has been fallow, much like my pack in this season of drought. He has been disheartened, as I've spoken to him on more than one account. I need to think of some way for us to buttress each other, to lend strength and common cause. Twill not only be for the weal of my pack, and his Order, but for the sake of the other oath we share.

More importantly, we have to regain his freedom. His and that of the others who have been taken, and collared.

The mapping will help. We need to know the nooks and crannies of that forsaken hole when we'll need them. Soko has also thrown in for the task, and by extension he has pledged his mate as well. My only concern is that should either of them see a darkskin, there will be no preventing bloodshed. I reckon if tis done discreetly enough, we can get away with it.

This is the topic our trip to the Dreaming Tree yielded to us after we'd arrived. So far, the roster of those who pledge to the common cause for the balance consists of none but myself, my kin, and the city druid Koko who is a Cordor councilor. No one else has put their name to it yet. Least of which, the Heartwood. The only piece of parchment upon the board from Heartwood was a note from Stormwood, saying that Heartwood had a project of their own underway, and that they will be moving the boards.

Gods damn that bloody Circle, and the self important elf ranger. We shared the fruit of our gathering with them, shared the purpose and the cause, and asked their contribution to it. They make no move on their end to honor the collaboration; instead, they go and allude to some other idea at the Tree, that can be about them, not a common bond. I tire of their secretive, exclusive plots that equate to contemplating their own navels, and patting their own backs.

This is the last effort I will make. Ever. My last olive branch was this Midwinter moot, and the proposed alliance of our circles. Another note to their grove, when I return, to remind them of the promise they made to respect the conclusions made at the moot. If there is no compromise and collaboration, then there is nothing more to offer.

[KregorRanger]

20 Mirtul 101

The last night before we shall return to the southern reach of the isle, and to home in the Bramble. One last night of peace, and consideration.

Heal the wounds left in their wake.

The Malarite was supposed to have lost an eye, and I derived satisfaction from that news. For he not only took an eye from someone else, he took her very confidence - her self worth. To lose the same measure of skill was only fitting.

An eye for an eye.

Karma.

Justice.

Retribution.

But the words ring empty, for there is nothing but loss to repay loss, and it does not restore that which was taken.

No amount of lycans slain in the Forest of Despair would ever bring back Mai'ae, nor any whom I sought to fill her space.

The spirits that haunted the Bramble - and those of East Way before that - didn't need to be destroyed. They needed to be healed.

Defending that we cherish is incomplete, lest the damage done is also mended.

Heal the wounds left in their wake.

[KregorRanger]

***A charcoal sketch has been tucked into the journal here***