A past unfurled: The Journal of Andu'mien Muner
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((OOC: As I am a random person, these will be random pages from his journal. If the stories dont make sense as a singular work, eventually, they will, I promis…. no no... I hope.
first entry coming soon... maybe. 
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((No, none of these are dont yet… lol.. easily distracted? maaaaaybe))
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((still more for the first story, but heres a start to another random piece of his history))
At Last a Return, and the Battle with the Goblin King
It had been nearly a century since Andu had last laid eyes on the small encampment in the southern woods and as he walked now through the flowering boughs on the outskirts of the Luiren woods, he felt more close to home then he had in a long time.
Since he had been turned away from them when they had first met, he had grown from a scared and stubborn elfling into a capable elven ranger. The group that had taken him in had been kind and patient, despite their shorter lifespan, and had counted him as one of their own, despite his sometimes bitter demeanor after being turned away from the circle he so longed for flat out.
Khalreshaar was with you, if you made it all the way from Tethyr on your own, at such an age.
They had liked to remind him about how lucky he had been, and how blessed by the goddess. In time, he came to know the daughter of Sylvanus himself, and through her, had grown considerably in skill. Now he was more sure than ever that the circle would not turn him away.
As the trees passed, his keen eyes took note of a few stray arrows lodged in trees, and further into the woods, he found a lone hobgoblin with elven arrows piercing his skull ominously. Stopping briefly, he surveyed the land surrounding him, and was most discouraged by what he saw.
Every bent blade of grass, every twig, to Andu told a tale. This however, was beyond anything he had seen before in his life, and he counted it a wonder he had not noticed it as he had walked along in his excitement. Before and around him, all of the grass was trampled under large, heavy boot impressions, and even in the trees above, many of the brances were broken from some massive traffic. As far as he could tell, a great army had passed over the same ground he was now travelling recently, and this left an ill feeling in Andu's stomach, for his path led right to the fairly large camp of druids.
Moving with a little more speed, Andu began to curl his nose at the scent of rotting flesh, and charred fur. Within moments, the sources came into view, and he stopped to double over for a moment, catching his breath and his nerve at the sight that panned out before him.
All around lay the bodies of countless goblins. Many had arrows piercing their bodies in one place or another, and countless groups had been scorched to the point of no longer having skin on their mealy frames from what could have only been thunderous bolts of lightning. In the near distance, the druids camp had been burned to the ground; bodies of men, women, and children, all slaughtered alike, and all left with a hideous rune branded onto their forehead. By the twisted faces, Andu could tell that in most cases, the branding had been done while they were still alive.
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((ok, so less of a journal… or... more of a third person journal.... here we go))
The Dark Maiden and the Twilight Wanderer.
The towering duskwood trees glimmered in the broken moonlight, though their tall and partially bare trunks coupled with the canopy of twisted branches above created a web of shadows across the forest floor. As Andu walked slowly, the blanket of dark, autumn foliage crunched under even his lightest step, and proclaiming the first signs of winter to come, his breath cut into the crisp night air. Hungry and cold, he pressed on, the dancing shadows keeping him alert, despite the late hour. Just since entering the duskwood forest, had the first hints of true regret hit hardest, and with each step, he battled with himself to keep from turning back towards the home he had been so eager to leave.
A chill went up his spine, as a soft wail trembled past his ears. Now frozen in place, his hand went first to his bow, though then settled on his stolen cloak. After wrapping the cloak about him and dissapearing from sight, his sensative ears alerted him to the direction of the wail, which was ever more becoming clear to be a female voice. Still, his guard was not lowered, though curiosity drove him slowly back into motion, and he crept towards the sound.
As he looked down finally on the source of the cry, Andu was nearly driven to anger, though as it had led him to lay eyes on the black skinned girl before him, so did curiosity now stay his hand from taking up his sword. For a time, he merely stood, and watched the huddled, dirty mass in front of him, as he remained torn between hate and pity for the drow girl.
Having never laid eyes on one of the dark elves himself, he was amazed at how harmless she looked curled crying up against the tree. The shadows would have seemed lost in the shade of her skin, were it not for the dirt and blood that had seemed to find its way to be plastered to her in frequent patches. Tilting his head, Andu silently noted how the moonlight glimmered in glorious silver patches, across her tangled white hair.
Compassion and pity finally overwhelmed his learned hate for the fell race of elves, and he began to softly murmur a blessing upon her; one of the few spells he knew the words to conjure. At the murmurs, the girls deep yellow eyes shot up, and in sudden terror, she whimpered as she pulled herself up to try to sit and locate the hidden source of the noise. As the spell took shape, Andu moved the cloak from his front in order to lay his hands upon her, and at his suddenly appearing form, the seemingly fragile girl sprang to her feet and in some desperate display of strength sent Andu sprawling onto his back.
As he looked up at the girl now from where he lay he was suddenly taken by her surprising beauty, and he watched her as she examined her rapidly healing wounds in surprise, not even thinking to reach for a weapon in protection. Slowly, as she realized what he had done, the girl looked up and cocked her head to one side, looking over the road weary, yet still regal looking elf. For a long moment, their eyes met, and poured over each others details, until finally, after what seemed like ages, the girl's puzzled face broke into somewhat of a smirk, and then, in an instant, she was gone into a cloud of impenetrable darkness.
For what seemed like ages, Andu remained where he lay, his mind pouring over the memory of her surprisingly breathtaking face, until at last, the darkness subsided and he was left alone in the hauntingly calm woods.
Through the claustrophobic, twisting, and endless tunnels crept Rizzyk and his small group. Softly searching red eyes scanned every shadowed corner and inch of the tunnels as they slowly made thier way to the surface. "We shouldnt be gone long. You know what will happen if the mistress finds out what it is you've lost." A scowling look from Rizzyk was all it took to let the young drow know just how serious he was about not letting his secret thrall escape so easily. Without further complaint, the party moved on.Andu had now spent a month longer than anticipated in the Duskwood forest. It had taken a solid week of searching hopelessly for the drow girl before he had begun to hear the giggles echoing from the shadows, and since then, he knew he couldnt leave the haunting forest until he saw her again.
The forest, he had learned, remained in nearly a perpetual state of twilight, save for midday, when the high sun barely forced its rays through the thick canopy high above him, and midnight, when the shadows overran the forest entirely. Ever was there a looming quiet, save for the occasional giggle; and hardly a creature could be seen, save for the ghostly female figure, ever teasing him from the distance.
Once during the month, while using his enchanted cloak, he had crept close enough to gain a brief look upon her again, though after only a few moments, her sharp ears alerted her to his presense and she vanished again in the sudden cloud of darkness.
((still more for this story to come…. no one ever claimed he was shortwinded, hrm?))