Gilan sat on a tree stump watching the fire crackle and
glow as Halt spoke to him. The camp they were in was an
outpost, created by the Rangers as a checkpoint of farther
expeditions into the Woodlands. As Halt finished speaking
he looked up from the fire. They were discussing news of
a man who had appeared in Buya and talking about this
area of undead who were invading and that he needed help.
More importantly the camp was located among a forest of
a strange type of trees that might be good for arrow
shafts.
“Daesang was his name, you say?” Gilan remarked. Halt
arched his eyebrows, a sufficient response for Gilan. By
now he had gotten use to his mentor’s taciturn nature.
“I will have to seek him out”
Packing up my things I had taken Blaze, my horse, to Buya
and found Daesang outside of the inns. He told me a story
of a camp not too far from there where they were fighting
off the forces of the undead and he asked if I wanted to
help. I agreed and for a small fee he took me there. The
area was a small camp surrounded by a deadwood forest.
I received my orders from the Head Hunter and began aiding
them in killing the walking dead. They came at me in swarms
one after another, I just kept fighting, using traps, arrows
anything I could, and they just kept coming. I had lost
count of just how many of the horrors I had slain. And then
there were the wolves. Their howls making your heart jump
up to your throat. One of the hunters gave me a quiver of
silver arrows to use specifically for these wolves.
Finally I reached a safe haven among the trees. The dead
had lost sight of me it seemed and I took the time to
catch my breath and analyze the situation. For the first
time, I truly had the chance to look around me. The trees
seemed to be just dead wood, yet none of them seemed to
be falling apart, and they all seemed to still pulsate with
life. I tried to break off a branch and found the task
so difficult I had to use my demon dagger to aid me. With
the branch removed I deposited it in my pack as a sample
to look at later. I was amazed that this entire forest had
no green in it. I checked my arrow supply, I was running
low, and I had several cuts and bruises from the fighting.
It was time to head back.
Back in the camp I pulled out the sample of wood I had
collected. It seemed supple enough, surely, and fairly
light too. I began whittling it down to see how it would
fair as a shaft. One of the hunters must have seen me
and decided to walk over. I noticed it was the one who
had given me the silver arrows. “Tryin’ to make your own
I see.” he said. I looked at him curiously and he replied
“That is the wood that I use to make the shafts for me
silver arrows.” “Oh!” I replied, quite surprised, I did
not even realize. I pulled out one of the arrows then and
compared them. I noticed that once you whittled away at
the outer black bark, the inner bark was of the same brown
black hue of the silver arrow shaft. The man continued on
“They are great for arrows. See this bark is special, these
trees, whatever those undead do to them, make their bark
poisonous. So when you shoot you may have noticed that the
shaft splinters.” I nodded back, something I had originally
just thought to be bad craftmanship. “The fact that it
splinters so actually helps it to penetrate the target and
poison it.”
Amazed now by this new type of wood, I decided that I
needed to go back into the forest and collect more.
I made my way back into the forest. This time, with
the help of my hooded cloak and camouflage training,
I avoided detection from the horrors while I gathered
wood.
After some time I had a big bundle of limbs from the
trees, and, tying them up decided it was time to head
back. I made my way carefully through the vast expanse
of forest. Passing by tree after tree, they all seemed
to look the same, but I had left a trail for myself by
removing limbs from the trees. As I passed by one tree
I heard a scratching off to my right. Immediately an
arrow was knocked on my bow and at half draw. My eyes
narrowed in on a wolf. I drew back to shoot when,
suddenly, the wolf just ran away. Curious as to its
behavior I crept towards the spot where it was scratching.
As I edged around the tree I saw that on the ground at
the base of the tree was something green! I kneeled
down, and there in this vast expanse of deadwood forest
was a small green tree with a curved trunk and a tiny
splash of leaves. It was so peculiar that I decided I
would take it back with me. I set it down and carefully
unearthed the tree. As I began to stand up and turn
around my face paled. I was surrounded, undead were
walking at me from all directions, they had just appeared
there, like this tree had drawn them to me. I instantly
began firing, arrow after arrow into the undead. They
were being knocked down but just rising back up again.
Closer, closer, they were drawing in. I needed another
plan. I could not stop them. I kept firing. What would I
do? The fear, the panic began to set in. I was going to
die. Stop. I told myself, I just needed to calm down, I
just needed to.. that was it. I shifted my aim west, to
where I needed to go and rapidly shot down all the dead
in the area and began to sprint through. Before they
could rise again I forged a path through the dead and
cleared out of the pack. I never stopped running until
I got back to the camp..
The next day I was back at my cabin. The wood was stocked
outside and I was resting up and attending to my wounds.
I walked over then to the small tree, now resting in a pot
in my window. What are you? I asked myself. It was time
to go find a druid.