Forgotten Journals

But I do digress; I did not gather you all here to tell a story of my victorious battle over the piles of papers! No, instead I found something I had forgotten about, something that used to fill my nights after many an adventure. My years as a ranger watching the woods of the realms seemed an ancient history to me now, but reading through my old journal reminded me of the feats and tasks which filled my times in the mortal realms. Indeed, it was not so long ago when life and death were a constant struggle. Oh the woes of mortals.

Several pages caught my attention, as their contents had truly left my wandering mind. Much of my times was spent as a good ranger should spend it, ranging over the realms, learning the terrain, learning the forests and plains, learning all there is to know about the lay of the land. This particular section reminded of the excitement of new places

The wind whipped and raced across the black rock outcropping. The deep black rock stood strong against the wind, only small pebbles falling to the wind's beating. I was not fairing so well. The wind tore at my cloak, ripping it from my grasp and trying to take me over the cliff's face. Walking up towards this unknown pass had proven to be more of a struggle than I realized it would be when I saw its black faces jutting over the top of the trees of the jungle. I had been quite surprised to see the foreboding black walls of the mountains, not remembering them from my many times stalking the jungle. My surprise was torn away from me by the wind now, all I could think of was staying on the small ledge which wound its way up the obsidian face. My dwarven stature for once offered great assistance, as the wind had less to grab onto as I made my slow careful way up towards the summit of the pass. The peril of the climb was exhilarating, but the true drive behind my continued pursuit of the pass was the search for the new and unknown. My legs had taken me to places high and low throughout the realms, but never had I seen these enticing rocks. I had to find what fortunes they held.

The going was slow, but I made the pass at the top of the climb. Relieved and oppressed at the same time, I stood under the towering heights of the dark rock as it soared to untold heights. Relieved, for their great height made a wonderful wind-block stopping the gales from trying to throw me around. Oppressed by the near night that had fallen all around me. The gloom of the walls surrounded me as I moved into the shadowy chasm. The black of the rock not only darkened the surroundings, it seemed to take the sunlight from the very air, allowing little illumination to filter into the pass. I slowly made my way through the pass, falling back on my childhood living in the underground passages of the dwarves to make my way through the gloom. I thought about turning back, but the excitement of discovery was upon me. My eyes had never beheld this rugged land and my ranger ways compelled me forward.

As I inched along, I became aware of a muttering echoing about in the cavern. I crept forward and a sharp bend in the pass revealed the source of the mutterings. A bent and beaten man in only rags muttered and walked about in the pass. His eyes roamed from the ground, then up the heights of the walls. He seemed to be in such a pitiful state that I promptly moved forward towards him offering my assistance.

Muttering was the only response. Some insane rambling which made me question whether I should pursue helping the man.

"Surely you must be lost, can I take you to some place a bit lower and a bit warmer? Your clothes do not suit this high pass."

The man continued pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath. He did not even seem to recognize that I was talking with him.

Suddenly, a deafening roar broke out from high atop the pass. My head whipped up and reflexive I unsheathed my sword, readying for the impending doom of whatever horrific creature had emitted such a foul sound. All I could see were the dark rocks rising high overhead. The roar continued to echo for many minutes, bouncing back and forth off the two cliffs that faced each other forming the pass. I could not be sure, but it seemed that there was more than just one roar, but it could have just been a trick of the echoes.

Relaxing a bit as I realized that whatever had created the cacophony was not attacking me at that instant; I looked back to the muttering man. He had changed his stance, staring hard up at the top of the pass, a stern scowl creasing his old weathered face. Just as quickly as it had come on, his visage changed back to the rambling fool, and he again began to pace and mutter.

Realizing little could be done for one as lost as he, I decided to pursue the pass a bit further, hoping to move away from whatever it was that had created that horrific noise.

Not long after the odd encounter, the smell of death and decay met my nose with a force that could only mean one thing, a battlefield. I stopped, listening intently trying to hear if the battle had past or was still ongoing. No battle horns nor cries, no clangs of metal on metal, no beating of many feet, all that was spoken on the wind was the cry of vultures. I moved forward cautiously none-the-less, and soon came to the grisly ground of the battle. The pass opened into a ring of death, the walls creating a natural amphitheatre who's circle of rocky walls had kept the combatants in relatively close quarters with nowhere to run. The open space was littered with the dead, many still appearing ready for battle if they could only but move once again, gripping their weapons as if ready to give that final blow, which had instead come to them. Great vultures moved amongst the fallen, picking a bit here and a bit there, taking only the tastiest parts, for there was more food for their kind than even their great numbers could consume.

My stomach turned and bid me to leave the ghastly scene. Even after all these years, death still affected me so. I have lived part of the life of a warrior so I had been forced to deal with death, but also I lived the life of nature which was at strict odds with the carnage of such unneeded death. Surely nature had its death, but such wanton destruction was deplorable. Coming upon this mortal scene without the battle-lust of the warrior repulsed and sickened me. I could not continue on. The dead lay in pools of their own crimson blood, and all I could do was turn and go back down the pass.

I stumbled down the pass, blinded by my own internal strife. My only thought was on leaving the wretched scene and going back to the clan hall, my sanctuary. I did not even think about my footfalls, but just moved as I could, down the unknown pass and into the familiar thick jungle, allowing my instincts to guide me back to where I could find myself again.

It is amazing what we can find when we open our eyes and start to search. Ahh, my days roaming the mortal lands; so full of worries and dualities. Torn between things because I could not understand what is now such child's play. So silly it all seems now, but still some truths hold true. Searching unknown haunts can truly open our eyes to new things, or make us realize what we have already known but have closed our minds off too. I learned something that day from my discovery, and the pass yet holds the secret to my discovery.

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