3. The Book Of Willow

The Book Of Willow


  • High up on the western wall of Peltarch, Willow perches precariously with a giddy smile plastered all across her face, light green eyes turned towards the Icelace Lake, which glitters like beaten silver in the distance. A cool and crisp wind comes from the lake, stirring tangled, moss-strewn hair and crumpled cloth, sweeping across the young woman's face like a calming hand. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes for a moment as her smile softens, then hops off her perch to take a seat in one of the little turrets to write.

    "~Llyran, Llyran, Llyran~

    He's still asleep. I don't know ~anyone~ who can sleep for as long and as deeply as he does, you can literally poke him with a stick and he'll hardly even stir! He really is such a bear! I left him hibernating sweetly in our misty make-shift Den of moss and vine, I just couldn't sleep anymore myself, I'm too giddy to stay that still! Instead, I've foraged bread, cheese and a couple of hard-boiled eggs, trying not to eat the lot before he joins me… such a slow-poke!

    Does the way I look at him make him feel as weird and wonderful as his gaze makes me? His eyes at once wild and awed, as though I was a dryad, lovely beyond compare, stepping out of her willow with not a single leaf on. The Willow in Llyran's eyes is a me I haven't met before, making me wonder if love isn't only about exploring the other person, but also about self-discovery; a dizzying back-and-forth exchange that builds to something more than it's parts. I'm ~more~, for loving him. I hope he feels the same way!

    Mushy stuff aside, I've loitered up north, hoping for a glimpse of that dragon everyone's been talking about, but no luck yet. I've also been adventuring far and wide, yet all this time spent away from the Rawlins makes me sort of itch, even worry-wart about stuff there.. it's like Vashism really IS contageous, 'cause I didn't use to worry about much of anything! Fingers crossed that he managed to persuade the folks in charge there to try his idea, we need something positive to give back, then Jacob might listen. So far it's been all about learning and avoiding things getting worse, but maybe, just maybe we can start making it better.

    New places seen:

    The CoooOOooold caves.. veeery dangerous, deep and full of history I'd love to know more of - and indeed cold, though the Spellunking Helm kept me nicely temperate throughout! Despite the considerable danger of a multitude of monsterous ogres below, it was actually the gnolls that won the biggest bastard award. Climbing up, I thought for sure I was deadmeat, facing a veritable WALL of furry fury... but Beorn somehow managed to piss them all off and nearly die for it, only he didn't! Stubborn tenacious dwarves, hooray!

    The Other Side... of the swamps! Going up through the ruins of Jiyyd, you come to a different set of ruins, of smaller buildings and more swampy marshes. They're full of giant snakes, acid-spitting bugs and TROLLS! Man, they're ugly! Fire is your friend, but so is distance in my case. Explored a cave there too, it was abandoned but big and full of bones, as though some giant beast had laired there.. oooOooo..

    No treasure with a handy dire turtle shell shield for Llama or cloud armor for me - we'll just have to go looking even further out of the beaten path, RRHH!"


  • A quick jotting down of notes, Willow sitting on the tower by Norwick's south gate, long legs dangling down over the edge. The wind comes from the Rawlins, carrying with it the heady green scent of pine, leaf and moss. Willow breathes in deeply, a wide smile spreading across her face as she writes:

    "Debt-FREE!

    At last, at long last, I'm out of debt and it feels more liberating than I'd imagined! I mean, it was a debt to a good friend, one who'd never pressure me or even cared at what pace the coin was returned, but still… I just don't like to feel indebted, and if not for the sheer ~awesomeness~ of the spellunking helm, I'd never have chosen to borrow that much, even from a friend.

    But it's all repayed now, and the helm is truly mine! My own... my ~precious~.... erm... perhaps I shouldn't give in to complete glee for a mere possession! But it IS the single most useful and valuable thing I own, if not the most remarkable looking!

    Best of all, now I can let myself dream ahead, to new investments. Quality goods weigh less, and in the case of weight, less is most definitely more! Steel, platinum... and while I'm dreaming, why not the fabled mithril? Llama is still hoping for a nymph-inspired skimpy leaf armor, but we both know he's pretty nuts... besides, I like to not bleed so much that I have to help myself before others!

    If I'm to be practical about it, freedom from encumberance will probably mean a slooow and steady upgrade, or a downright return to indebtment (Beorn omniously said he'd make me something I couldn't refuse when taking my measurements...). But you know, step by step is fine, it's good to have those little goals that are achievable, spreading a feeling of accomplishment and joy when you get there!

    But if you're to dream, you might as well dream BIG! So! Where's that glimmering dragon's hoard hiding, protected by a mighty but conveniently dead owner who just happened to choke on the shiny knight come to slay it?

    I've been looking!

    New places seen:

    Oscura's mines - Derro are so hard to hit, and sooo loud! And my snot is still a weird yellow-orange from the peculiar dust down there.. no treasure, but very exciting!

    Underdark cave - past the antmen, there's an opening that leads to well maintained mining tunnels, so nicely lit up by luminescent lichen that they must be dwarven made. There are shriiieeeeking giant bats inside, toxic and mean little buggers too! Llama speared at least one, rrhhh!"


  • It's a clear and windy day up on the Roost, Willow skipping about in random loops and circles, hair and cloak whipping around her lanky frame. She shouts and hoots, laughing when the wind brings her own voice echoed back, turns a somersault into the soft moss and then finally grows still, panting and red-cheeked. She smiles brightly, long fingers reached up to tickle the underbelly of a puffy cloud streaking across the blue sky, then rolls over on her belly to write while the wind still tugs playfully at her hair.

    "Growing up.

    I was always terribly slow at doing that, partly due to my elven blood but partly because I could never quite see the appeal in it. Why ~is~ everyone in such a rush to grow up, anyway? Is it about gaining independance and knowing who you are (because that part I get) or more about living up to expectations (ugh)? Do some people in fact enjoy duty, responsibility and that heavy stuff for their own sake (double-ugh), or is it just the necessary evil everyone gets in trade for being allowed to make their own decisions in life? Do some people hurry to grow up just so that they get to be the ones telling others what to do?

    I sometimes think the desire to become adult is mostly to do with being taken seriously - children want, think and feel SO intensely, only to have it all made light of for their being just that, children. It's a frustrating feeling, made worse by the realization that your parent was typically right too - I remember it well, though in fairness my mother always took me seriously in a way. She always listened and never belittled me, though there came a time in my life where I resented the fact that she seemed to always, ALWAYS be right. Now, I sometimes find myself missing it; that one simple right answer.

    But there isn't always one, is there? Or rather, maybe there is one for me, but what's there to say that my truth is the only one that's right? The world is too complex for the answers to be that simple, but some people find their truth and are then completely blind to other points of view.

    Like Jacob… gah! Is it a badger trait to be that stubbornly belligerent, or is it just the pain and grief for his brother's death that's burrowed deep inside him, making him too prickly to listen to reason? He got to me, I have to admit that, and it's not like he doesn't have a point. We ~do~ mean to act like the well-meaning, all-knowing parents here - we presume to know what's right and what's not, and strive to take away the new sense of self-awareness he and the others have gained.

    I reacted badly to his accusations, felt hurt for being treated like the enemy when I'd been so sure I was helping, but Granger's right. I have to stay calm or it'll just make matters worse. In short, I have to be a grown-up about it. It's just difficult, because while part of me sympathizes with him, another part feels angry that he's preaching his version of the truth to a big group of scared and confused animals, newly awakened and not half as bright as he. In fact, they're kind of like children, but he's not being a very good parent! Parents are supposed to protect and guide their children, yeah? In his anger I think he might end up using them instead, and that's NOT ok!

    But I can't win any of them over by doing the same thing, now can I? I can't go around preaching my truth and insisting it trumphs Jacob's, yeah? A gentle hand is best, a soft calm breeze to soothe anxiety and fear. Maybe if I just show that I really do care, that mine is a hand held out in offer and not order? I'm not saying I have all the answers, but I am looking for them. I am trying to keep an open mind and a warm heart, and really listen seriously.

    'We may need your love before the rain falls', said Tweety, and that's what I'm sticking to! Love. I think it goes a long long way, don't you?

    Knowledge is the second part we need, and it's Llama who had the great revelation there, so much so that even Catelas was flabberghasted by the sound of it! My bear came lumbering back to the Roost in this giddy state of elation, so enthused and so exhausted, all at once, with the most amazing, unbelievable tale. But it fits, it really does fit!

    They headed deep into the Rawlins, he and Catelas, and the bugbears there scuttled off in fear of the white stag's magic. Green lightning sizzling between his antlers, shooting their hairy butts, bzzzt, bzzt! Once they were close to the center of things, Llyran shifted into a bear and BLAM!

    A vision, or maybe more like memories shared, he isn't sure, but it blew his mind to the state that he had stars in his eyes when retelling! It was so cute that I'll try and use his own words, as best I can remember them!

    ...'key, now you have to imagine Llama's voice when you read this:

    'I was in a forest at first, I think, there was green everywhere.. brilliant green, like a massive torch in the sky, it was all I could take in at first, but then.. booom! Everything exploded and there was bugbears flying through the air like little dolls, it was almost comical, but then everything started rolling and folding and I think I got sucked up like they did cuz it was all pretty nauseating.. and then.. and then! I was with the stars! Ooh, they looked so pure and bright like I've never seen them before, it was soo amazing.. but there were other things.. angels and demons, but not really either. One had wings and it looked like an angel, and the other was this shadowy.. bleh thing.. and the angel was chasing it everywhere.. I mean -everywhere-. Through the heavens, across different stars and planes, through time and death and just.. -everywhere!-

    The shadowthing was all messed up and ragged from the chase, I can't even guess how long they were at it, but it was tired.. and clever. It set a trap for the angel and led it right into a dying star that was shooting all kinds of things out of it, and he got caught! Ooh, it was like hitting a rock as hard as you can with a stick, he just.. pooom! Shot through the heavens like a green comet. I could tell somehow, it didn't kill him, but that's still pretty bad, I mean, that's gotta mess you up. And he hurtled towards this giant blue marble streaking his green trail, but behind him.. ooh, behind him there was a shadow coming, so ominous, and I could smell it.. brimstone. And then I was just a bear again! But the forest was different, it was.. calming and peaceful and soothing.. it felt alive, and rhythmic and.. just, amazing!

    That green light that was seen in the sky, I think that was -him-, and I think the shadowthing is coming for the angel.. but, it's not really an angel the others said.. it's an ancient planeswalker and I got his memories somehow, just those ones though.' ((thank you Mhilan for the storytelling!))

    I'm spreading the word, retelling the tale, and I know it sounds crazy, but it's got to be true! The animals don't remember it as clearly, but what few bits they do recall match up - the green light, the smell of brimstone, Granger mentioned all those! And the ferryman near Jiyyd - he actually ~saw~ the light, a brilliant green light one dark night, lighting up the entire skyline over the Rawlins. It's amazing to imagine this angel-winged planeswalker buried like a brilliant seed into our earth, but it makes sense!

    The question is just what to do about it, now. Do we go looking for him, try and wake him? Llama's sure he isn't dead, but he's got to be out cold from a hit so hard it flung him half across the stars! But if we find him, aren't we in danger of leading the shadow thing to him? I mean, if they've fought for all this time, it isn't going to pull it's punches now, it'll try and finish him off. And that's not good! Whatever and whoever this green angel is, he loves the wild. He must, to have this affinity to the animals!

    I've asked this other Wolfman to help look, to go to the bugbear area unseen and sniff around for clues, without attracting attention. After I'd told him everything I know, he surprised me by asking if I belonged to anywhere.. like, a group I guess? Because he figures there's some people who would be happy to have someone like me amongst them, and would I consider it if they asked?

    Vash't kind of sniffed around that same bush before, I think... and that time, I dodged reflexively, feeling the weight of dread ~responsibility~ threatening. But now.. I don't know why, maybe it's the way things are in the woods now, the fact that I so want to help, all this thinking I've done lately.. but I feel like I might be ready to shoulder it. Maybe it wouldn't weigh me down, maybe it would actually make me stand taller? Maybe I'm just a little bit grown-up after all.

    New places seen:

    Icelace Beach - hill giants and manticores roam there, but with Llama, Vhin AND me calling down the lightning, it was a literal thrill! Spied weird nests on high spots, and a menhir! It didn't flicker with lights though, so that's good.

    Mintas Forest - a vast woodland full of dire animals and scary, scaary fiends, followed byyyy...

    Mintas Rhelgor - a big and eerie ruined city, full of tantalizing glimpses of a past I don't know yet! I tried to ask those I came with, but they didn't know either. Those ill famed Nars demonbinders, maybe?

    Rawlins caves - one full of hobgoblins, their huts and a mammoth cookpot (ew!), the 'X marks the spot' cave (with Beholders! I was so scared!) and the big mining shaft cave, with hobgoblins and bugbears - and oh, OHH - further down were earth mephits and big earth elementals, and spiders.. like, the Queen mother of all spiders! Sooo huge! And a passage to a plane of Earth.. we looked inside, the gravity was INTENSE but you let me walk freely and not be flattened! And I spied platinum ore.. just WAIT 'til I tell Beorn and Gralin, haha! They're so going to drool."


  • "Tweet-tweet, tweedle-weet!"

    The sound of Willow's chirpy voice beats her to the Roost, her messy head of hair popping over the cliff's edge a moment later, then the rest of her lanky self scrambles up. She hums a while longer, skipping over to check on the apple seeds planted in a sheltered corner, then thumps her pack down to sit comfortably in the soft grass and moss, leaning against the low stone wall. The book is flipped open, quill quivering playfully in the air before pressed against paper to write.

    "A little bird told me…

    Haha! I can actually use that line now and have it be completely true! That in itself is just so funny that I find myself giggling in glee, but the bird itself, oh! Tweety the Bird, a spry little sparrow with bright beady eyes and a beak you'd swear was smiling! I always liked birds and I think you do too - they are born windriders after all. The little ones in particular seem so merry and free, and this one seemed to have the essence of all that in it's windchime voice.

    'Are you the Windwalker? Yes, of course, I can smell.'

    The bird launched into a rapid, charmingly disjointed message while it balanced on the edge of my shield, so close to my face that I felt like leaning forwards to peck it's tiny head. A clue has been found, I should tell the Wolfman and keep our friends and allies informed; the Beast, the Woodwalker, the Wildling, the Shadow and the Summoner, alongside others we can trust (like Leena, Lainie's mystery sister that I've finally met! She's nice and a lot less hung up on dresses!)

    'We've a heavy cloud to rise above, and we may need your love before the rain comes.'

    With that, the sparrow hopped from shield to shoulder, flitting against my neck with a tiny chiming giggle before it flew off. My heart swelled in my chest! Catalas the Stag, Granger the Wolf, Potter the Great Old Bear, Bill the Badger and Tweety! They have my love, and whatever I can do to help.

    Yeah, I might have failed spectacularily at being a ranger, but the reasons why I chose to try remain, you know? A love of the wild, pure and simple. It's one of those loves that needn't be reciprocated, it's enough to just love and not feel that same deep connection to nature that proper rangers and druids do... but today, I felt loved in return, I did, I did!

    I need a new Ormpur, I told Llyran the other day. He said this mystery could be it - it doesn't have to be a place, the quest is what counts, the mystery and the unravelling, the search for the strange light, for truth! He keeps claiming he's not a wise man, but I think he is - it's just the wild and reckless bear charges that detract from the overall score… but then, I always did think he was born a bear, and learned to take a man's shape after!

    I'm seeing new sides of him lately, well sort of! He's protective of me, worry-warting almost about the Chaos Shard and giving a bear-rumble-grumble about tearing the planar rifts a new and bigger one if I got hurt somehow. It's so cute! And silly! I'm not the one who keeps charging the big bad, now am I?"


  • Sprawled out on her back in the soft dry moss of the Roost, Willow lifts the shard up against the afternoon sun. The light filters through the curious crystal to paint her face in every colour of the rainbow, shifting and flickering from one hue to the next. Her lips are half parted in amazement, eyes wide with wonder as the gem goes through it's gentle transformations, lazily twirled in her fingertips. Finally content, she tucks it inside a pouch, pushing her lanky frame up to write.

    "The Chaos Shard

    Condensed astral matter, born from the rare and temporary convergence of two chaotic planes, swirling in the Astral Pools connecting the Multiverse. A planar pebble, a dimensional diamond, a chunk of sheer chaotic energy and endless possibility.

    Wild, raw power.

    It's beautiful and it's frightening, all at once.

    The possibilities tug at me - the chance to go beyond the boundaries; to be anything and anywhere I like, in this world or another. An explorer of the Multiverse, a plane walker, a rider of the astral currents - or a gibbering lunatic, a wet puddle on the roadside of existence? The possibility of my mortal mind being too small to see such sights with sanity intact is something I'm willing to risk, but what stays my hand is this:

    I never wanted power; it comes with such heavy pressure and too much attention, jealousy and strife. You only have it for as long as you can defend it against those who want to take it from you, yeah? That sort of existence doesn't strike me as very enjoyable or desirable. Even the well intended responsibilities my mother tried to foist on me felt too heavy and stifling; I want to travel lightly, to be free as the wind, though a friendly wind as I pass through the world - an unexpected fresh breeze through a dank cave, a cool puff of air across a sweaty brow.

    The shard is also a curative. It's potent herbal paste and fresh linen bandages to Narfell's cuts and bruises, to old injuries that never healed right. I am a healer, and despite refusing the role she intended for me, I am my mother's daughter and can't help but to want to fix what's broken.

    Is this what you want me to do? Is this why you brought me here, of all places, or was it just chance and the why for me to fill in?

    'Do you need a why?' You sound amused in responding, the wind tousling my hair.

    Leylines, menhirs, demonbinders - a history of injuries I know so little of. Narfell's a big and difficult patient and I feel afraid, I feel the pressure weighing me down. But my shard is just one of many, and my effort is the same; really I'm just one of a team of healers, an assistant with clean bandages and water on a tray, yeah? I can assist, I can be a helping hand and let those more in the know guide the course.

    You know, I'm perfectly happy simply passing through places, seeing and experiencing without wanting or feeling the need to influence them this way or that. But if I can help, I will, and if helping helps the seeing and experiencing new things, all the better! I've a feeling that in giving up this wonderous shard, even with all the possibilities it holds, I'll not lose out on anything I really wanted. I'll gain something new, as yet untold.

    The best things aren't those you reach for, but those you never thought to find."


  • Willow sits with her back to the low stone wall, up in the Roost, her eyes closed, though not sleeping. Far from it, the skinny half-elf seems to listen attentively, long legs crossed and her hands resting in her lap, holding a rather ugly knitted leather helmet. The wind whistles through the cracks of the wall, tugging at sandy hair and rustling through grass and leafy vines. After a long while, Willow cracks her eyes open, a thoughtful expression on her face as she opens the little book to write.

    "The third time's the charm, huh?

    While the spirit in which I wrote that before is true enough, I have a hard time shaking the sadness and frustration of another third time, decidedly less charmed. Llyran did his brave and reckless bear thing down in the crypts, a jolt of electricity stopping his heart just as I rushed up the platform to join the melee. Seconds turned to hours, drawn out as though immersed in honey, slow and sluggish, while I tried and tried to get his heart beating again - and it worked! It worked, he breathed and not only that - somehow, he rose all the stronger, as though he'd learned from the experience somehow! But the third time.. oh, the third.

    Down in the caverns underneath the ruined Jiyyd above, we were fighting for our lives. Orcs again, the roaming fiends and another spirit of dooOOOom. This one seemed set for vengeance and somehow, with unerring accuracy, picked out the person responsible for the defeat of the last one of his kind - Llyran.

    Battle raged all around, and Morrie was almost down, clutching his side and reeling. I rushed over, slapped a balm on him and.. and.. my back was turned, I didn't even see it! Like the first time, I didn't even see it, just a strangled cry and then it was too late! Eyes glowing eerie vengeful light, the spirit turned on me next, and I couldn't reach him, I was forced back and bleeding heavily, stumbling behind the nearest corner. The others finished it off while I drank potion after potion with shaking hands, then rushed to my bear's still side.

    All my knowledge, everything I'd learned put to the test. I did everything right, except it was too late - he was dead and beyond my aid and suddenly I was right back in the cottage by the riverside, right back in that long dark night, holding my mother's hand even while she let go. I couldn't stop crying.

    The fighting wasn't over, we had another room to clear and a long, long way back to the nearest temple, but I was out of spells, out of hope, out of breath as though someone had punched it out of me. Somehow I managed to carry him, but that's all I was good for. In the next room, the others were shouting for help again, but I couldn't, I couldn't without leaving him behind and I wouldn't!

    Thank you for leading me here, to find such good friends - they kept it together where I couldn't, Morrie kept us safe and moving and Elaine carried Llyran in her umberhulk claws with such gentle care that I started crying again. 'He'll return', they insisted, and I knew he would, I knew and still I cried. The third time was the worst, and it has got to be the last. Llyran rose groggily, held me tight and then went to rest. He slept so deeply and for so long that when I returned, I had to check that he still breathed.

    When I returned? Yeah.. I kept at it, we returned to see our path through to the end. I told myself it was for his sake, but really, I needed not to drown in that sorrow - a weeping Willow is not who I want to be, and stubbornly we returned to reclaim the adventure and our spirits. It turns out that had been the worst of it - and instead the best bit was ahead, because a cave opening lead us through to open, snowy fields and a road stretching ahead. Wolves, worgs.. and beyond, at long last, Ormpur.

    Ormpur!

    There were ruins infested with undead, a great big fortress with scattered, empty crates. There was a mysterious mage's tower, well kept but empty, there was a peaceful glen and a cool, spacious cave. Ormpur had everything I'd envisioned, but there was a hollow feeling inside me. Ormpur.. and Llyran wasn't here to see it.

    The cave was tranquil, the water clear and cold. I caught my sad reflection as I leaned down to taste a handful, and suddenly a breeze sent ripples across the water, scattering the image. You stroked my cheek and whispered that everything would be ok, and that awful restriction in my chest suddenly let go. It ~will~ be ok, because I choose optimism and I will try all the harder to keep him whole the next time, and the time after that, for as long as we both live. And if I fail, I'll pull him back even from behind the veil, I will! You'll show me how, but not if I give up now.

    I emerged from the cave feeling better, stronger and calmer. Not happier, but calmer. Everything isn't fixed in one instant, but it will be.

    The following days were hectic, and Llyran just slept through it, hibernating in the safety of the Roost while I climbed down into strange new caverns, fighting hell hounds and kobolds and finding more pieces of what appears to be a connecting puzzle. It IS all connected, the lights, the spirits are at the center of it all, an unknown ancient power that's sought after by orc, kobold and who knows what other wicked races. The kobold note speaks of wells.. and the word fits. Those pools of light where the largest spirits were found, in the Howling Woods cave, beneath Jiyyd, under the swamps - they're it, aren't they? Maybe the gems we found will be clues, they seem wrought of the same chaos matter somehow…

    I still wouldn't slow down, though the second dungeon very nearly killed me. Kristelle and I were down and dying, from the hail of magic past that narrow bridge, but Jonni saved us both, and Morrie too survived by the skin of his teeth! And I dispelled the portal that spat the bearded devils out, haha! Thank you scroll collection!

    I've seen parts of the Underdark too while waiting for the bear to awake, tromped through the kobold warrens and the swamps, fought angry fishmen and gnolls, until my purse felt heavier than it's ever been. And then Lainie poured more gold into it, and wouldn't take no for an answer! With one final effort, the total added up: 15 750 gold.. a king's ransom, and coincidentally the price of one knitted camel-hide helmet, for spellunking and adventure and seeing all the sights of the world - even in complete darkness!

    A helmet, and a waking bear. He's up and smiling again, and I feel the richest woman in the world."

    Willow closes the book with a smile, her hair whirling around her head as she springs to her feet, suddenly without a care in the world.


  • A brisk and windy day finds Willow seated at the very edge of the Bluff, her light green eyes squinting across the glittering river to the ruins beyond. Her hair whips around her head, and a wide smile of anticipation stays on her face as she writes.

    "Ormpur.

    I think we're finally ready. We've practiced our fighting, filled up on supplies and even found some helpful equipment in that orcish treasure trove in the Howling Woods cave (Morrie and Merry each loved their gifts, yay!). Individually, we're just that little bit stronger too, but what really counts is the way we work together. Teamwork is the key, and between us, we have just about the ideal mix of skills to see us through any dungeon, creepy crypt or dark forest.

    Preparation has taken its time, but as you know better than anyone, the road is an experience in itself, sometimes more so than the destination! I've learned such a lot, and had amazing, unexpected adventures while Ormpur yet evaded me. The Howling Woods cave with it's mysterious multi-coloured spirits of DooOOOoom.. the trek through the Norwick crypts, all the way down to what is a passage to the Underdark and back (we fought a Mummy Lord! I was helpful even though I couldn't hit it!), the brimstone and fire of the Kobold Warrens. Third time's the charm, as they say, and our last few outings have made me feel quite confident that that's true.

    Operation Umberhulk was the crowning jewel of our practice regime, although that too held a few surprises - mainly that the BIG group of badass hobgoblins awaiting us had lost control of their beast, and so they fought each other! We never got a chance to test how strong the hulk was, but given the number of hobgoblins it took down before it fell, I'd say VERY!

    We did really well with the hobgoblins themselves, and even spied caves to explore at a later time - one had hobgoblins and some sort of mine in it, the other was dark with not a creature in immediate sight, though the big red 'X' outside it seems like a warning sign to me. Although on treasure maps, X marks the spot… Our invisible scouts only took a quick peek in each, because by that point our spells were running low and we had to return.

    Notes to self: Windrider shielding spell is wonderful, not a long duration but enough to make preparing them worthwhile! Also: might want to save one for yourself - Slow Wind is an AMAZING trick, but need to run in fairly close to cast! Totally worth the risk though, both for making an escape and buying time to deal with large groups of enemies.

    The perhaps oddest experience of all, concerning our - or actually my own - progress, is this: the other day I suddenly found myself playing guardian to a group of less experienced adventurers! I even had to fight the odd Vash'ism slipping from my mouth, but I managed to contain them (I hope!) and give practical advice instead of don'ts. I kept them all alive and whole throughout, too!

    Lately I feel overall ~useful~, and I think I've proven to myself and perhaps others that I can be of help even to the tough and experienced adventurers out there. The fact that I'm wearing something nicer than a rusty orcish chain helps make a favourable impression, too! These days, I may be green but I'm no longer wet behind the ears."


  • "Even when I shift, you smell like home."

    The light of the small fire dances across Willow's smiling face, granting a forgiving softness to the young half-elf's otherwise sharp and narrow features. In the still of night, in this tranquil moment under starlight and the glow of the campfire, she is beautiful, quill poised over the pages of the little book in her lap, suspended in action. A sudden rumbling snore breaks the silence, Willow smothering a snort of laughter as her eyes drift fondly to the grizzly-clad druid slumbering nearby, snug and warm underneath his layers of fur. A gentle breeze stirs the flames and with a happy sigh, Willow writes.

    "How strange and how wonderous is it that you can turn to mist, leave everything and everyone you knew behind, come to a wholly unfamiliar place and yet find yourself right at home?

    You smell like home, he said; not the home he came from, but the one he wants, the one he sees in his future. I gaped, stupidly. That's exactly how I feel, isn't it? That's why I'm Mellow Willow in his company, why I feel so at rest, so at peace, so ~right~ with him - so right at home.

    Everything fell into place, I mean literally FELL into place, crashing down around me in that cave. The smell of brimstone and burning mushrooms, the tears in my eyes, the ache in my chest as though I was about to burst; pounding, pounding, pounding with all my might to get his still heart beating.

    I didn't do it right, I was too frantic and could scarcely see through my tears. He had saved my life in the other cave, pulled me right back from the brink of death, killed the bigass spirit of DooOOooom that was wailing on me as I lay prone and helpless and then stopped me bleeding out. And now here he was, still and unbreathing. Worst of all, I hadn't even seen it happening, I thought he was safe while I panicked trying to rescue Diadne from the black tentacles choking her life out! Screams for help all around me, and suddenly his voice too - far too suddenly quiet.

    Beorn and Gralin stood quietly nearby, grim and bloodied from the fighting. Even Ludo was silent as I worked the only thing I had left, just my hands and whatever skills they possess, to the three seemingly lifeless bodies before us. Llyran, Zahra, Diadne.

    The pounding of my heartbeat in my ears, the acrid fumes of each breath, burning my lungs. Llyran, Zahra, Diadne, Llyran, Zahra, Diadne - Llyran, Llyran, Llyran.

    He breathed, a sudden rasping breath, eyes wild and unfocused. A cooling breeze stirred, caressing my cheek. 'Calm', you whispered, but I had work to do and wouldn't listen. Zahra next, her first breath as agonized as his, and again the wind swirled, sweeping my sweat-soaked hair from my brow. 'Calm, slow down', you insisted, and Llyran sat up, groggy but alive. My skin prickled despite the heat of the room and suddenly it all became clear.

    Did you guide my hands, or simply calm them? My mind was so clear and so focused, every motion deliberate, the right force, the right momentum. A slow, cool breeze. Diadne's eyes opened with the flutter of a butterfly's wing, alive, unharmed.

    I rose on shaky legs, Llyran staggering to his feet in a show of toughness that fooled no one. My cool melted as swiftly as it came, something crumbling inside me. I yelled, called him stupid and then I kissed him.

    It's something of a blur after that, I don't even remember walking out. All that lingers is that feeling of walls falling down, of revelation. We sat at the commons, slumped against the wall. I had a piece of brimstone in my hand, I must have grabbed it in the cave… I played with it idly while we talked of nothing much, placing it against my chest as though were it a diamond in a dutchess' necklace. And suddenly - it kind of was!

    That cool breeze again, that sense of calm and clarity filled me. The stone hangs in an amulet around my neck, fastened there by magic alone, don't ask me how! Although I suspect you have something to do with it, don't you? But perhaps not! In amazement, I looked at Llyran, and found a similar stone sits on his finger!

    We talked, later. He kissed me when I tried to apologize for being angry with him, and that too fell into place. His arms feel like home."

    With that, the book is closed and Willow returns to her rest, cradled by soft moss and the warm gentle arm of a bearlike druid.


  • Early morning, so early that the stars still twinkle in the sky above the Roost, the embers of the night's campfire a dull red glow in the lingering darkness. A big crag cat lies curled up nearby, long whiskers swaying lightly with each deep, rumbling purr of a breath. A thin arm suddenly disentangles itself from the cat's pale tawny fur and a sleepy Willow's head emerges, yawning hugely.

    The cat cracks its golden eyes open, though moments later they sag shut again, the purring growing louder at a slow scratch behind its ears. Willow chuckles quietly, then shuffles closer to the fire to stir it back to life. The cat resumes a purring snore as the warmth spreads, seeming quite content to wait until someone else has completed the morning chores. While a buckled pot of water is set to boil, Willow writes.

    "Optimism.

    Some people equate that with stupidity, as though a gloom-and-doom attitude is the sensible option and only morons think differently. I couldn't disagree more! The world is huge and complex, filled with all manner of life interacting in a thousand different ways, and there's little, oh so little of it that we truly control. A lot of things simply happen whether we like it or not, events set in motion deliberately or inadvertantly by the classic butterfly's wing, creating the tiniest breeze which might grow to a whirlwind. You can fight it (which won't do you any good), you can curse and spread your bitter 'I told you so's' when the worst happens - or you can simply accept it and make the best out of the circumstances.

    I mean, if I fall and scrape my knee, does it hurt any less if I scream, yell and cry, or simply curse under my breath and suck it up? Actually, the yelling kind of DOES work, so that might be a bad example, but wait! Waiiiiiit.. let me continue, I have a point further down the line! …I think..

    Oh, yeah. Here it is: Willow with a scraped knee is fait accomplit, it's a done deal and nothing I do can change that. But where some people prod their bruises, agonizing and wallowing in the pain, I bandage it up and get on with things. Worse, some people would then avoid the circumstances that lead to their scrapes and pains, and so fool themselves into thinking they'll never be hurt again. I figure that if you fell once, what you need is not to stay sitting - what you need is to practice your balance!

    That's where optimism comes in, as a sensible, rational choice! Because while we can't control everything that happens, we CAN control our own reactions and attitudes, and what's more, our outlook on life colours the interpretation of events and the choices we make. I can look at my scar and think ohhh nooo, this hurt so bad, it was such a stupid, clumpsy mistake, OR I can remember that I made it to the top of that mountain despite injury, I can remember that breathtaking view as the clouds parted just as I reached the summit - and suddenly falling isn't defeat, it's triumph!

    So yeah - I'm an incurable optimist and I hope I never find the remedy. I might grow glum at times, but I push on, and you know? It works! The setbacks I wrote about before, I learned from every single one and our most recent outings have been all the better for it! We pushed all the way through the swamps to where the land suddenly falls steeply, oh so steeply away, a rift through the green where the river runs glittering far below.

    It's all cliff edges, waterfalls and vertigo, and I LOVE it.. that bridge, the narrow stone bridge, oh! I lay down on my stomach and wanted to spread arms and legs out wide, thinking it would almost be like flying! Morrie gave me that look though, that look smack between fondness and 'are you crazy' that he does so well.

    The kobold cave - take two - was also sooo much more successful than last time, and though still dangerous, we all kind of knew how hard and how far to push, to still get away with life and limb intact. And lots of stuff too! Ok, so it's a very VERY far cry 'til that Spellunker's Helm, but still. A thousand gold in my pocket, and we did it all by ourselves.

    Next, I want to see more of the Rawlins, I think. Maybe we could manage pushing deeper in, where the fiercer hobgoblins roam? I have heard that sometimes, there's an umberhulk shambling about in their midst.. I wonder if they're as big and ugly as the stories I've heard! Only one way to find out, yeah?

    I feel very optimistic - between Morrie's bravery and Merry's finesse, Elaine's magic and Shessa's bow, Fogsy's strength and Llama's bark and roar.. we can really GO places. We can! It might be little by little as we learn the ropes, but I know we can do it. We're turning into a veritable adventuring troupe, in fact, even if we don't always come together all at once.

    Lainie jokes about the 'couples' in the group, and that little thumbs-up Merry gave me, after she returned from Vanity Plates with Morrie in his spanking new yellow cloak, was sort of telling! She really likes him, and I think he likes her too. Just like Llyran likes me and I him. It's just, the difference between liking and LIKING can be pretty darn fine, and with us I'm suddenly not sure which is which. It's all unchartered terrain in an area I've never been keen to explore, you just know stubbing your heart will hurt a great deal more than your knees or toes. Still, I am an incurable optimist.

    'Has anyone ever told you that you look like a moose when you run?', he asked me, after that awkward moment passed on the hilltop. Er.. yeah, and no one EVER meant it in a good way! 'You look like you're about to stumble over your own feet, or are in a perpetual state of falling forwards', he continued, soon adding (prompted by the expression on my face no doubt), 'I think it's cute.'

    That has got to be the weirdest compliment anyone's ever ever gotten, right? But then, I AM weird, and so is he, because I could tell he really meant it. He stayed a cat all night this time, and beat me to the Roost with that sneakily superior climbing. So, I'm making breakfast, and judging by the sound of those snaps and pops of bone.. I'll have talkative company right aboouuuut.. now!"

    The book is swiftly snapped shut as a groaning druid in a grizzlybear hide struggles to sit upright, squinting in the pale morning light.


  • The sky is overcast, a heavy, dreary grey which bleeds rain further off down the Pass. In the Roost, a chill hangs in the air, an almost drizzle as though a cloud has parked around the cliff face. Willow shivers, pulling her fur cloak closer and feeding another stick to the sputtering fire. She nurtures the flames carefully until the fire burns brighter, warming her hands before reopening her little book to write.

    "Setbacks.

    Those are bound to happen, I know that at some level, but deep down I'm an incurable optimist and think things will always work out for the best. We've turned tail and ran countless times already, bleeding and breathless, but always alive - until the past two weeks.

    First Runbar in the Kuo Toa caverns, then Shes, that BASTARD orc chasing her down with such relentless determination and speed that none of us could help her. By the time I turned the last corner, her head was caved in, and this sickening, sinking feeling twisted my gut. Morrie didn't hesitate a second; he barreled into the orc's side with such a hard look on his face that for a moment, he seemed someone else completely, an avenger, full of righteous fury, and it spurred the rest of us to follow suit. I heard myself screaming as I fired my bow, Elaine's magic sparking from the far corner and Merry's arrows peppering the orc's side, finding every soft spot imaginable. The orc was dead in seconds, but it was still too late.

    This sucks, you know?

    It wasn't so bad to die myself, it was too sudden for me to even feel any fear, but this is two people I haven't been able to help now, and it sucks! I told Morrie not to blame himself, and at some level I know I should take my own advice. It's just - I'm the one to drag people off to all these dangerous places, so I should be the one to make sure they return alive, yeah? Failing to do that, twice in close succession, kind of makes me think I should start being sensible and temper my adventure lust with caution.

    Baby steps.. practice makes perfect.. bla bla BLA.

    This is so hard! I want to rush into things, to be swept away by the moment, by the adventure and the world's mysteries, and initially that worked out pretty well. But now, wherever I go, the bar is set way above our heads and I can see that it'll take some serious planning to go any further.

    But there's one bright side to it, at least - Merry! Merial is her full name, and she's this lovely and stealthy hin girl who I met in the Poo Flinging Incident first, but never really got to talk much to. But then Morrie and me ran into her again, fighting fishmen and kobolds together, and really hitting it off. Besides the fact that she's SUPER nice, she's also an excellent scout and good with both traps, locks and of course that bow of hers. She's also a little taken with Morrie, but who could blame her for that? If he was my size, I'd probably be all nerves around him myself!

    She thinks she's not the kind of girl he'd go for - like she isn't pretty enough - and my heart warmed to her that instant. Boy, do I know that feeling! Try being a head taller than most guys, I wanted to say to her, try being thin and flat in all the places girls are supposed to be soft and curvy, try being too awkward, too clumpsy, too weird and too plain.. well, plain. I told her about the jerk who called me a stork, and she looked like she wanted to find him right that second to head-butt him in the groin! Yeah, I like Merial a lot.

    But the thing is, while I'm still all those things, it doesn't matter like it used to - because you chose me. And if I'm good enough for YOU, then I'm good enough for anyone, just the way I am!

    Hey.. that's it, isn't it?

    That doesn't just go for the outside! I shouldn't try to reign myself in and be all prudent and sensible, because you chose me for being ME. I'll try and learn from these setbacks though, figure out what we can do different next time, but definitely keep doing it. I have to learn to slow down, before I can rush forth, you said - and maybe part of that is this reflection. Another part is more tangible. We have a scout, so take the time to make proper use of that. Wait, get the heads-up to plan a course of action, and we won't be so overwhelmed next time.

    Also: buy Invisibility potion! Lainie was a real life saver with that spell, else we might all have been smooshed. Remember to thank her and her aunt who got both Runbar and Shessie back on their feet, without asking for anything in return - and without a lecture, even!

    Brr… it's cold today and my grizzlybear hide walked off. Maybe I can track him down and show him that place with the Bodak wings today? Adventure requires a full stomach, after all!"

    With that, Willow closes her book and carefully douses the fire. The smile is back on her face, and as she grabs the vine to climb down, a brisk breeze parts the clouds above, creating a shining blue rift in the grey skies.


  • "Pragmatic."

    Willow sits at the edge of the Roost, book in hand, her long, skinny legs pulled up to rest her chin on knobbly knees. She ponders the word she just wrote, light green eyes staring off at the wide Gypsy Woods down below her cliffside perch, until a playful gust of wind from the east blows sandy hair across her eyes, shaking the young half-elf from her reveries.

    "Alright, alright!"

    With a chuckle, Willow springs to her feet, stretching her arms out wide. For a fleeting second, it looks as though she's about to simply jump off the edge, but instead her thin arms fold in around herself, as though embracing something. She smiles, then flops back on the ground, snuggling down in the soft moss and grass to write.

    "I've reached a point where exploration is proving more challenging, either for a lack of enough adventuring partners or - even more vexing - for the lack of resources and equipment sturdy enough to let me survive the risks involved. Don't get me wrong, it isn't going to stop me, but it IS slowing me down. Of late, it seems I'm revisiting all the same places, for the simple, boring, necessary reason of gathering what funds I can.

    I've heard of all these curious places though, gathering a bit of information if nothing else and I WANT to go to:

    -Ormpur - ruins and mystery, oh yes! Definitely top of the list, though our attempts so far have been abandoned due to pesky fireballing along the way. Ouch! With Morrie, Fogsy and Llama though, we just might make it, though more is better!

    -Spider cave with a mysterious temple below (on the plains near Jiyyd) - lots of spiders though, including a huge guardian one which even seasoned campaigners speak of with respect. A little wary of spiders since my death, but come on.. hidden temple? I HAVE to see that!

    -Deeper into the Rawlins - I've heard of several caves located further in, filled with goblins and hobgoblins and bugs - apparantly BUG-bears too, yikes! Note to self: beware of archers, you make an easy target, Willow.

    -The Cold Caves - those sound absolutely marvellous but reeheeaaally dangerous, the gnolls alone could end me without breaking a sweat - and there's ogres below!

    -The Underdark - oddly enough, I haven't heard many tales of that yet, but it's bound to be ~super~ dangerous. Are there drow? Duergar? Cloakers and Ropers? …sucky Mindflayers?

    -The mountains! (Giantspires, Coldstones) - apparantly there are Giants. I'm no match for a giant, but hey! No fair that they get the highest perches, they're already so tall! I'll find you, shrine - hopefully without a Roc nesting there!

    To get to these places and back, I have to plan more carefully. I need supplies enough to last, I need a party strong enough to survive, and I need to not get squished too easily myself. Current options:

    -Go with a strong party as a tag-along, to see places otherwise unavailable to you. That's how I saw the Ettins, but there's a distinct disadvantage. Those seasoned adventurers have all been there and done that so many times that it colours the experience a shade of jaded. Plus I have to listen to the obligatory do's and don'ts, as though I was two years old again and didn't know which end of a fork to stick the potato with. I mean, it's well meaning, but it gets old really fast.

    -Save, fight, scrape and scrounge for better equipment and supplies. I have a set of rusty chainmail and a towershield, even a helmet for when I need it, plus bow, whip and warhammer. But I still get roughed up by goblin soldiers.. Need better stuff - or at least potions to compensate!

    -Wait. Oh, that's the real challenge, isn't it? Stop laughing, I ~can~ do it, but it makes me itch all over! At least scrounging bits and pennies is doing something, but I'm restless and you know it. The wind comes from the east. It smells of secret trails to discover, of overgrown ruins, brimstone, fire, howling worgs and rotting undead. Ormpur is next, it just has to be.

    Maybe not today, but tomorrow."

    With that, the book is swiftly closed, and Willow rises, smiling. The wind picks up, whistling through the small stone wall of the Roost, sending her dark cloak snapping as she slides down the vine.


  • "The only constant is change."

    Willow stops there, contemplating the sentence with a thoughtful expression, taking another bite of the juicy green apple beside her, already half devoured. The sun is high, the Roost bathed in warmth and only the lightest, laziest of breezes stir. A lone bumblebee buzzes hopefully nearby, Willow buzzing back with a sudden grin, then returns to her writing.

    "Wherever we go, whatever we do, we always take ourselves with us. I'm Willow, and I always will be - but the Willow I am now isn't necessarily the same as the Willow I will be tomorrow. I think a small kernel of 'me' exists, persists throughout, but new sights, new experiences, new insight and aquaintances all have their sway - some on the outer edges of that me, some right down to the core.

    I'm waxing philosophical, I know, but today is such a languid day, ideal for slow and deep thoughts. The wind is so still that I think you agree, if you aren't downright slumbering! I'm tempted to do the same, but first I'll write a little more, while in the mood. Today, I'll write about the people I've met here in Narfell, some I can even call friends!

    First, the people I met first, two of my favourite fellows in fact - Foignar and Morel. The rest follow in no particular order, although I'm saving the best for last to make this chapter come to a delightfully full circle!

    Foignar - a dwarf with a thing for all things elven. He's a funny fellow, full of contrasts really: on the one hand, he likes to skip and prance, loves his wine and all things bright and fluttery (he puts actual ribbons on his armor, it's adorable and very wind-friendly!). And on the other hand, he's strong as an ox and packs a decidedly dwarven punch with his bigass axe! A typical dwarf with atypical fancies? P.S: Calls me 'perty ears'.

    Morel - a hinadin! Well, he's a hin and a paladin of Yondalla, and the sweetest fellow adventurer anyone could ask for. Morel's something as rare as a genuine all around nice guy (nice is such an underrated quality), and seems bitten by the same adventure bug as me! He's also incredibly cute, which coupled with his small size makes trying not to pet him difficult. Leapfrogging over him didn't go down well, won't do that again I promise! I don't want to belittle him in any way, but oh so cute that I just want to pinch his cheek and go awww! And his paladin pony is even cuter!

    Elvira - a quiet and almost self-effacing woman, good at hiding and well.. dehiding (she's something of a tanner). She doesn't seem to mind tagging along on our various outings, but what she actually wants and likes is harder to read. That's the thing about silence though, you can read all kinds of things into it, and most of it is your own guesswork and doubts. Sometimes silence is comfortable and other times it's not - with her, I don't yet know her enough to be comfortable. I think she is comfortable in her little quiet, self-appointed corner of the world. Getting her out of that comfort zone might do her good, though.

    Vash't - a ranger with a serious crush on Mielikki (whom he's actually met). Vash't is a worry-wart, a nag, a lecturer on the do's and don'ts of life in the wilds - and a pretty fun fellow when he isn't any of the above! A cheeky sense of humour and, I suspect, a bit of a lush when the mood strikes. He goes from puerile gags to stern ranger pretty swift, though I can respect his dedication and the fact that his care extends to ALL wildlife - not just the cute and fuzzy kind.

    Elaine - a pretty girl and she knows it, which is ~usually~ a big annoyance factor in my book. I think most pretty people are so used to getting everything they want based on their outwards appearance that they just don't bother filling the inside with any real content. I think there's more to Elaine though, she has a natural curiosity and a hunger for adventure that is decidedly appealing. Just, you know, enough about the dresses already!

    Jorg - a monk prone to probing questions and reflection, but despite this serious and seriously restrained lifestyle, not without a sense of humour. You can see it, that twinkle in his eyes, as though he's laughing inside his head, though as ever it's mind over matter with Jorg. Which in one way is a little ironic, considering it's his matter that does the fighting! But then the point is to be ruled only by your own intent and not the body's natural instincts and desires.

    Sheserai - a priestess of Mystra with woodswomanly skills like mine, and a keen interest in the old Gypsy camp. She has a brother in the local Legion, who I suspect is an awful busy-body, because she's always saying she was told not to do this and not to go there, bla bla bla! Shessie's a woman grown, so why so much consideration for her brother's wishes? I get the feeling she's trying to make some form of amends by being so obedient, but really, shouldn't just being herself be enough?

    Kristelle - another priestess, and again with training in the ways of the ranger!! I feel like such a walking cliché, but in truth we're all very different people, superficial likenesses aside. Kristelle is very young, cautious and well-behaved, so much so that I think I might have shocked her a few times already. She kind of acts as though every question is a test she might fail, but maybe she's just nervous? She'll find her way and her confidence soon enough, I bet!

    Dusk - an elf with such shaky grasp of Common that I for once got to practice my elven (it's still there, not nearly as rusty as feared, hurrah!). Dusk is very much the grim hunter, with a decided grudge against orcs (hear hear!) and a fondness for fine wine. An interesting chap, but one who views the world with suspicion, as though everything is rotten until proven otherwise. I expect he has his reasons, but I'd still like to open his eyes to the good and wonderous things it also holds in store.

    Gnarl - sturdy dwarf with a bushy beard, one of quite a number of them around in fact. Gnarl stands out for being rather a social fellow, and of course for selling me my Bigass Bow (seriously, it's easily five feet) which I'm quite fond of! I suspect he dropped the price way low for me to afford it, but it didn't ~feel~ like charity, more like he thought I could offer a good home for it, which is why I accepted. Also: a kickass Ettin fighter!

    Aelthas - the bright pink and blue armor ISN'T the most noteworthy thing about this kind Selunite priest. No, that kind of pales in comparison to the fact that he's also a werewolf - something he neglected to tell me before changing into full fur when we were fighting orcs. I ran like the wind, the werewolf chasing and shouting for me to stop.. yeah RIGHT! I'm not going to stop to be mauled viciously, no sirree! Eventually he stopped instead, changing back and apologizing for startling me so, while the rest of the party gave me these looks like ~I~ was the crazy one for crying wolf. I think he's used to being accepted, and he should be thankful for being so lucky! Note to self: werewolf with pink collar: good. Otherwise: run.

    Who else.. I feel like I'm forgetting a couple of people, but it's time to round things off, which brings me right back to the beginning.

    Llyran: The only constant is change, said Llyran, and for him that's quite literally true. He's a druid, you see, and can be a bear, a badger, a pig, a rat, a panther or a crag cat, depending on mood and inclination! I think he's most close to the bear, being a big and lumbering fellow even in human form, but each shape has it's charm and he explores them with abandon.

    He's also perhaps the only person here who's never given me that awfully familiar 'are you crazy?' look. I don't know if it's because he's used to loonie people, if he IS one himself, or if he just likes me, but it's great to feel so easily accepted. I don't feel weird with Llyran. I feel like it's everyone ELSE who is, and we're normal.

    Hush, don't laugh so hard as that! Ok, so we're a little bit weird! I'm including you in that we!

    I like Llyran. We share comfortable silences and good conversation, both nonsensical and insightful, and he's a great adventuring buddy. He saved me from the spiders when I'd gotten us lost, then told me a story under the stars while I got my bearings back, returning from the fugue plane (bear'ings.. haha! Yeah, I saw that the moment I wrote it!). He calms me down, and you know how rare THAT is, don't you? Sometimes it's nice to be a still summer breeze, just barely stirring the leaves of the willow.

    Today is a day like that."

    With that, Willow yawns, flopping over on her back in the soft moss. The book is left open, the pages rustling softly as a gentle breeze strokes across the Roost, and then all is still.