Vind, Ranger of the Grove

[Booze Hound]

Hailing from the town of Tangled Trees in the Forest of Cormanthor, Vind has made his way to Cormyr with no real purpose. Living a rather simple and happy life in the Tangled Trees, he knew little of warfare until only recently. He has always had a love for the animals of the forest and of shooting his fine bow, crafted for him by his father. He would spend days alone, running through his forest home, communing with all sorts of creatures that lived there, big and small. He had a lover, Illyilana who would sometimes accompany him on his wanderings. In one of their wanderings they decided to seek out the fabled Myth Drannor, former great city of Cormanthor, and and rumored to be haunted. Being young elves, their curiosity got the better of them...
After many days of carefree wandering through their home, they eventually came to the area of the great ruins. Vind, having a naturally cautionary manner was wary of going any closer. Illyilana on the other hand had no such reservations. running ahead and laughing, she took her first step on the flagstones of an old stone street. As she turned to beckon Vind to join her, she noticed his eyes grow wide with horror. Illiyana's smile disappeared as she felt a cold touch on her neck...as she turned around, she saw a hideous creature, neither alive, nor dead before her. behind it were several more, ambling slowly toward her making sickly heaving noises and stretching their arms toward her. Frozen with fright, she could not even scream. The first creature caught her in it's disgusting arms as Vind watched on horrified. The creature then slowly bent it's head and began rending her flesh with it's few remaining teeth...this caused her to scream. Awakened from his terror, Vind felt a rage he had never known. Picking up his bow, he began firing upon the creatures as fast as he could, dropping them, but too slowly.

[Booze Hound]

Eventually the creatures fell after a hail of arrows rained upon them, Vind screaming the whole time. But it was too late, too many had fell upon Illyiana. she was covered in wounds, and bleeding profusely upon the flagstones. The rage, finally dissapating, Vind fell to his knees beside her. He lifted her head, but it was too late, she was gone. He carried her for several days, wraped in his cloak to their favorite glade. there he buried her with nothing to mark her resting place but his tears.
Several weeks later, Vind returned to Tangled Trees, half starved, and with a hardened look in his eye. He enlisted in the Patrols with his father much to his father's surprise. Vind spent many years with his father and his patrol fighting the drow of House Jaerle in the Elven Court, as well as the Gnoll parties on their borders. But no matter how many enemies he slew, he still felt empty inside, and his beautiful forest home was gray to his eyes. Finally, he decided to leave and travel elsewhere in an effort to get away from the reminders of his beloved Illyiana.
Heading Southewest through Semberholm, he took the Moonsea Ride through the Thunderpeaks, turning south at Tilverton. Eventually he arrived in the lands of Cormyr. making his way to the town of Isinhold, he came across a young beautiful elf by the name of Thrulia. Thrulia in turn introduced him to a shady human named Hrothgar. Quickly the three became close, and Vind was able to think of things other than his lost love, he even began to find love elsewhere in his new companion. More slowly he began to find a true friend in the standoffish Hrothgar. After many trials together, the group was as close as can be. Then tradgedy struck Vind again. Thrulia disappeared. to this day, all of his tracking skills and contacts he has established have not allowed him to find his friend. Fortunatly, Hrothgar remained steadfast through it all, taking his mind off the matter and joining him on many sucessful adventures. New friends have been made, some growing quite strong. A membership in the Order of Elves along side Valandil Sherwood after several weeks torture at the hands to Stormhorn gnolls has lifted his spirits, and caused him to see the lands of Cormyr as a new home, full of new friends and allies.
Often found listening from the shadows around the campfire in Isinhold, Vind is feeling settled in and now has an eager zeal for life that he has not felt in years.

The following is a link to the story, The Slaughter at Waymoot, which details the events that transpired between Vind, Thrulia, Valandil Sherwood, Hrothgar, and several others. This eventually lead to the end of the Order of Elves and their seperation from the Silver Shields.

frc.proboards37.com/index.cgi?board=regalgriffon&action=display&thread=1107714767

[Booze Hound]

The Hunt for His Father's Killer
This story takes place before the Slaughter at Waymoot, which transpired a few months after Vind's return to Cormyr.

Vind sat on the steps of the Silver Wink Tavern in Waymoot, sipping an ale, and eating a peppered steak dinner. He smiled while chewing with a look of happiness on his face. It had been four months since the tragedy that had befallen him and his friends here, when he had been forced to kill not only a close friend, but the elf that he had thought he had loved. But that was in the past now. He had taken up his role as ranger with a new zeal, and was an imortant figure in keeping the orcs east of Dhedluk from spilling deeper into the forest. He and Hrothgar had become closer than ever after his help here, and had gone on many successful adventures together. He had given up the stressful life of the Shields, and was living rather peacefully helping Lord Filfar with whatever he needed. He set his plate aside and leaned back on the steps drinking deeply from his ale and closing his eyes in the dappled sunlight coming through the leaves.

He hears light footsteps coming toward the Inn and opens his eyes sligtly to see who it is. He sees an elf, one that looks strangely familiar, and he sits up to get a better look at him. The elf's clothes are dirty and road worn, and a look of exhaustion is on his face. The elf wears forest colors of dark and light greens and browns much like Vind's own, but he has a badge upon his breast that Vind recognises instantly. Vind's eyes grow wide, and he springs to hs feet, knocking over his mug.

"Elthas? is that you?"
Wearily the elf nods, "Aye Vindalthan, it has been a long time."
"What brings you here? You are so far away-" A look of fear comes over Vind's face, "My father...what has happened?"
The elf's weary face looks grave, "He has been slain Vindalthan, the drow of House Jaerle sent an assassin..."
Vind's eyes moisten as he looks down to the ground.
"I am sorry, four runners were sent to find you, none of us knew were you had disappeared to, it has been so long..."
Vind nods, "How long...when did my father die?"
"It was seven months ago...it was not easy to find you..I am sorry."
Shocked by the words Vind stumbles backwards and falls on the steps of the tavern. He slumps against the doorframe and looks up at Elthas. "I should have been there...I was a coward...I should have returned, I wanted to prove to him that I-" His face falls to his hands and he weeps quietly.
"I have more news Vindalthan...your family's sword...it was..taken. The assassin took the sword when your father fell...I am sorry."
Vind's tear streaked face rises from his hands. His eyes red with sadness, and something they have not seen in months...that twinge of hate filled madness. He speaks through gritted teeth, "No drow shall hold my father's sword." He stands and goes inside the inn and scratches out a quick note, Hrothgar...my father had been slain by assassins, I go to get vengance. He stamps it with his mark of a bow and a wolf, hands it to the innkeeper, and walks out of the Inn.
"Vindalthan...it has been so long...we do not even know who the assassin was..."
Vind looks at Elthas with a grimly set face, "But I know where to look."

He turns from the elf and begins jogging east along the forest trails he has come to know so well over the recent years. He travels with no thought in his mind other than revenge. He skirts orc patrols, his hatred of them overshadowed by his hatred for his dark skinned kin. Reaching the ruined city of Arabel, he makes his way north toward Tilverton and the great forest of Cormanthor.

[Booze Hound]

After three weeks in the wilds, Vind was approaching the large city of Tilverton. He did not like the city, he didn't like any city, and Tilverton was a very large one. So he aimed his northerly trek toward the east to skirt the city itself. The road had been rough. He was travelling fast, and resting little. He ate what he could gather, and killed small game when he came across it so he would not be weighed down with extra meat from a deer or boar. He tried to stay clear of orcs, giants and the like, but even the Eastern edge of the Stormhorns were full of the beasts, and he had left a bloody swath in his wake. He had taken a hit from a large flying rock when a hill giant had hurled a boulder wildly with an arm pierced by two arrows, and it smashed to pieces very near Vind's head. The blow had dazed him for a few moments, long enough for the giant to get close and swat him with a huge back hand. Barely able to roll with the blow, Vind managed to get to his feet just in time to put an arrow under the jaw of the lunging ceature. That was three? Maybe four days past? he couldn't remember exactly, which worried him a little. What worried him more was the fact that he had missed a rabbit this morning. His head hurt a little, but it wasn't the first time he had been hit like that, he just hoped that his eyes would focus better in a few days.

Two days later, he made it to the large road called the Moonsea Ride, the same road he had taken out of Cormanthor all those years ago. His supplies were running low, he tried to conserve his arrows, knowing more would be hard to come across, but after recovering an arrow a few times, it gets bent, and the fletching gets frayed. He decided to try to hire onto a caravan as protection as he had done before, it would give him time to rest, and perhaps he could restock with some of their wares. he waited east of Tilverton at the base of the Thunderpeaks and awaited a suitable looking caravan. Some came through carrying fabrics, some with spices and one even had a cart full of an assortment of musical instruments, and made more noise as it bumped along than an army of drunk dwarves. Most of the merchants looked at the dirty road weary elf at the side of the road with a bit of suspicion and most of them had protection to escort them. Fortunatly, near dusk, a late wagon came along at a quick pace. The merchant had a frantic look on his face as he drove his two mules along at a rapid pace. Vind saw him coming from a ways off and noticed the careless hurried pace at which he was travelling. Curious, he bouldered up to a higher vantage point so he could see what was going on. Squinting west into the setting sun, he could barely make out what seemed like two mounted men behind the wagon gaining on it rapidly.

Pressing his lips together, Vind drew two arrows from his quiver and notched them. From where he had positioned himself, the cart would come very near him, at about the time the riders caught up to it. Drawing back on his bow, he closed his left eye and took aim at the rider on the right, the one that was about to disappear around the wagon. Then, just as he released, he felt a wave of vertigo wash over him again, just like when he had shot at the hare. One arrow flew fairly true, and hit the rider between his right shoulder and chest, spinning him off of his horse. The other arrow went flying wildly and actually hit the wagon, cutting across in front of the other rider, causing him to jerk the reins back on his horse. The horse reared, nearly throwing the rider, and Vind lost his balance on his rock perch and fell back, landing hard. His wind knocked out of him, he knew he was in trouble if he did not get up quickly. He staggered to his feet, and reached back for an arrow, but found none, they had fallen out in the fall, and were scattered among the rocks, some splintered and broken. Cursing he hurredly tried to gather a few to arm himself before the men could find him and attack. he heard one of them wail in pain, obviously the one he has hit with the arrow, and he looked up just in time to see the other man come around a large boulder with a club and a dagger in his hands.

"Ye nearly got me wit yer arrer thar elfer. A bit far from yer woodsy home eent ye?" The man gave a gap toothed leering smile as he closed the distance with Vind. Still grasping for an arrow, the man swung with his club at Vind, but he got his bow up in time to deflect the blow, and countered with a sharp rap across the side of the man's face. Scrambling up to get his bearings and a bit of distance from the club wielding brigand, Vind continued searching the ground for an arrow that could be fired. Screaming with anger, the man came charging at Vind swinging his club and dagger wildly, but with lethal force. Side stepping and dodging several swings, Vind was running out of room to manuver as the man backed him into a corner. His eyes roaming for anything, he ducked under another swing and happened to grab a fist sized stone. Coming up from his crouch, he swung the stone upwith all his might, connecting with the man;s jaw. The man had been in the middle of saying something, and the sudden impact clamped his teeth shut, slicing part of his tongue off cleanly and sending a few teeth flying. Hot blood spurted from his mouth into Vind's face as he swung again connecting with the side of his head, sending the man crumbling to the ground. Vind reached down to grab the man's dagger just in time for another to come flying over his head and strike the rock behind him. He looked up and saw the other man with a broken arrowshaft sticking out of his shoulder with three throwing knives in his left hand.

"Wot 'ave ye don ta Spotter!?!? Ye pointey eared bashtard!! Ye'll no' dodge al'o dese!"
Vind knew he was right, he was not going to be able to get out of the way of all three, no matter how bad the fellow aimed. He watched as the man drew his arm back in what seemed to be slow motion. Wobbling from his headache, and the fall, he hoped he could catch some of them in his cloak but it was going to be close. The man grinned with a mouthfull of black teeth then suddenly his face went slack, and his eyes rolled up in his head. He half turnde around, and crumbled to the ground. As he fell down, the form of the small chubby merchant appeared behind him with a thick club clenched in both hands.

"Tievin basard!! Dat be wot ye git! I be runnin late an ye be chasin me down!!! Basard!!" he looks up at Vind and grins, "Ye alriot dar sir elf?"
Vind smiles a bit and nods, "Aye, thanks to you, I got hit on the head the other day-" Vind stumbles a bit as he begins to walk toward the merchant. "Woo...still a bit unsteady..." He shakes his head a bit and begins to take another stpe, "I am just glad that I could-" Vind stumbles again, this time unable to catch himself, and he crashes to the ground, falling to his hands and knees. He looks up at the merchant, and speaks with slurred words, " I mushta got hit pretty-" Before he can finish, his world goes black.

[Booze Hound]

Vind watches as Illiyana is torn to pieces by the walking dead. He has his bow, but no arrows. He tries to run to her, but his feet feel like they are made of wood. He finally gets moving forward, but in slow motion. With every step she is hurt more, and her screams grow louder, but he moves so slow. When he finally reaches her, he looks down and sees Thrulia dead in his arms, her body full of his own arrows. He screams at the sky and stands up. When he turns around, he sees Valandil dead on the ground as well, and when he walks to him, sees that it is the face of his father that he has killed...
"Nn..Nn..NnnnooooOOOOOO!"

Vind's body feels like it is being thrown around, and he is covered in sweat. He tried to figure out where he is, but his eyes won't focus for some reason. He tries to brace himself but everything he puts his hands on is moving as well. Suddenly he hears a voice.
"Ho dere. Ho gerls. Sound lok our frien be waken."
The bouncing slows and Vind is able to steady himself. He finally got his eyes open, and squinted into a bright day. He was surrounded by goods wrapped in bundles in the back of the merchant's cart, and thenstarted to stand up once the wagon has stopped bouncing.

"Oy dere! Ye feelin bettah? Yer ear were bleedin fer a whoile. I put a wrap onnit. Bet yer 'ead 'urt sompin awful do, eh?" The short fat man giggles at his little joke, little of which Vind was able to understand. Carefully, he steps down off of the back of the wagon and winces at the pain in his back from the fall and his head which felt five times too big.

"Feels like a long night with Hrothgar." He mutters to himself as he tries to stretch some of the pain away.
"Where are we?"
"Not fer frum ware i foun ye. I took us a bit down da road. Put some moiles tween us'n dem buggers 'fore makin a bit'o camp fer de noit. Tis still fairly earleh mornin."
Vind nods and takes in his surroundings. It had been years since he had been on this highway, but he remembered the area. The Thunderpeaks loomed to the southwest, they had skirted them a bit atleast. If they made decent time, he could reach Cormanthor in two days. He could probably ride deeper into the forest with the man after that, but he'd wait to see how things went. He turned and looked up at the fat little man and offered him a nod.
"My thanks for your help, I am sorry I was such a burdon."
"Bah ye woulna been a burden if'n Oi were dead. An Oi woulda been if'n tweren't fer ye."
Vind nods and climbs up beside the man on the wagon. "Where are you headed?"
"Oi got some supploys need be brought ta de elves and such in da wood. Den off ta Ordulin in Sembia I be 'eaded. Ye wantin a roide Oi reckon?"
"Aye it would be appreciated, I lost most of my arrows and some supplies in that fight last night. I was attacked several days-"
"Bah, I ken tell ye's a roight tough bugger. Jes 'ad a bad day tis all. Oi got some gear ye ken resupploy wit in dere, Free o'charge if'n ye use dem sharp oiyse'n ears ta keep us outta trouble whoile we travel along. Oi'm sure I ken get another feller ta help once Oi get near Tangled Trees, always yer sort comin an goin from dere."
Vind nods, "Sounds like a fine arrangement. I'll try not to fall off of the wagon." He smirks a bit.
"'Elp yerself ta a bit'o grub inna back dere. An get some arrers fwe yer bow whoile ye at it. Not gonna do much good witout'em."

Vind turns around in his seat and finds a full quiver in the back. he straps it over his shoulder and instantly feels better. He then finds a loaf of bread and some cheese and begins eating them hungrily. After a while, he has finished eating, and his head began to feel much smaller. He was able to focus better on the surroundings, and the bottle of homemade wine they shared helped him feel even better. The day passed with some convorsation that Vind barely understood, and him occasionally walking and jogging along side the cart.

Finally nightfall came, and Vind chose a place out of sight of the road to make a camp. The merchant ate heartily of the young buck Vind had shot, and drank even more before passing out. Vind sat up, keeping watch through the night and slipped into a very light reverie as he remembered the events of the last few days, listening to the sounds of the night.

[Booze Hound]

With the fainted hint of the eastern sky brightening, Vind could make out the faint shadow on the horizon that was the western edge of Cormanthor. He watched the sky slowly turn from pink to bright orange, and decided it was time to get moving. He built a small fire, just enough to warm the thick coffee and get his companion moving. Once the coffee was hot, he poured a cup, and shook the little fat man rolled in his blankets and held it close to his face.
"Sun is rising, time we were moving, eh?"
"Whuzza? Whya? Whoozza?....EH? Coffee...ah ha, me lad, ye be knowin 'ow ta wake a feler roight!"

Vind nods and goes to the fire, putting it out, and begins gathering the supplies and securing them on the wagon. "We could make good time today. The sky is clear, and it is brisk. Mules shouldn't get weary too fast."
"Mmm...aye, noice dat fer ridin ta be sure. 'Course ye gotta 'spect dem bandits'll be tinkin de same ting."
Vind nods, "Aye, but I feel much better. They'll have something to deter them I am sure of it."
The little man hops out of his bedroll, and claps his hands, "Aye, Oi'm sure o'it! Let's be movin den!"

Vind spent the first few hours of the morning jogging along the side of the wagon, stretching his legs. before midday, they had reached the stretch of the Ride that passes between two arms of the forest, west of Ashabenford. The familiar smells of the forest reached Vind's nose on a gently western breeze.
"Oi reckon ye be from dese parts, eh?"
Vind nods silently.
"Ye headed back ta see kin are ye?"
Vind looks up at him, and with a fluid movement almost too quick for the merchant to see, hops up onto the wagon beside him while it is still moving. "Something like that."

The day passed with little incident other that the merchant dozing at the reins and letting the wagon stop while Vind was scouting. He returned from the forest where he expected the wagon to have reached, and it was nowhere in sight. He panicked a bit, and began running back west down the road, readying arrows as he ran. Finally he saw the wagon, and expected trouble, only to find the merchant flopped over drooling on the seat.

As nightfall approached, they made camp again, this time in a small section of the forest just north of the road. They ate some of the venision they had dried on the cart and the man rolled himself back into his bedroll, and was quickly snoring quite loudly. Vind frowned at the noise he was making and climbed a large tree a ways away to keep watch.
Gods...how that man expected to make it out here alone... He shakes his head and begins to slip into his thoughts when he hears a twig snap near the camp. Not a loud snap, but one that sounded like it was muffled. Vind turns and looks back over to the sound, and listens without moving. For several minutes, there is nothing, and just when he is about to pass it off as such, he hears something again. A slight rustle of leaves on the ground. Again it stops. He strains to hear, and then something catches his ear...a sound he knew very well...the low hyenalike growl of a gnoll.

[Booze Hound]

Vind's lip began to curl as he heard the sound. He had been tortured by gnolls in the Stormhorns, and had a deep hatred for their kind. Slowly he bagan turning himself toward the sound readying two arrows. He kept focusing on te area from which he heard it, but still couldn't make it out. Then he heard another snap, and some more leaves rustling, and another low barking like noise. There was more than one...sounded like five at least, and they were getting excited, making more noise as they closed in on the camp from the surrounding forest.

Then he saw it, a silouette, darker against the night, nearing the sleeping merchant. Sneering, Vind pulled back on his bowstring and took aim. He released both arrows with deadly accuracy, striking the gnoll twice in the chest, sending it stumbling backward with a bloodcurdling howl. Then the others started their high pitched barking all around him. Gods! it sounds like so many!

He put another arrow in the holing gnoll's head for good measure, and scanned for another target. Suddenly, there were many targets as four burst from the foliage. The merchant woke up with the sounds, and bleary eyed looked around, confused as to what was going on. The he saw the toothy grin of a gnoll leering down at him. The man screamed and began crawling backward, and bumped into the hairly legs of another, and screamed again.

Letting out a victory howl, the gnoll raised it's crude sword for a killing blow, only to have it's howl turn into a gurgle as an arrow apeared through it's throat. Yelling, Vind dropped from the tree and fired anoter arrow at the other gnoll over the merchant, striking it in the shoulder. He notched another and fired again, this time striking it in the chest, then ran as fast as he could and drop kicked the gnoll, sending it reeling backward. Scrambling on the ground to stand over the weeping merchant, Vind regained his feet and turned to face whatever else was coming from the forest.

Two gnolls lay near him, another on the edge of the clearing, all of them thrashing with agony. Another three approached, though they were coming with caution, warily eyeing the elf. One carried a bow, another a sword and shield, and the third a staff of some sort. They were all three making excited growling, purring like noises, that were getting more and more frenzied as they worked themselves up to an attack. The one with the sword and shield burst into a run, charging straight at him, the other two howled, one firing an arrow, and the other barking some sort if incantation. Recognising a shaman, Vind fired as quickly as possible at him. The shaman managed to deflect the blow with it's staff, but was forced to stop casting it's spell. The other closed in, and another arrow was being fired at him. Vind fired again as quickly as possible, striking the shield of the charging gnoll. He tried to roll to the right, but got his feet tangled in the flailing of the merchant, and crashed to the ground.
"Let go of me damn you!" Vind yelled.
"Don't leave me!"
"LET GO!!"

Kicking the man in the face to make him let go, Vind looked up to see the gnoll right on top of him. It swung at him, and Vind managed to roll out of the way, the blade slicing the dirt where he was a moment before. Vind rolled back around as the gnoll prepared another blow and rammed an arrow through the top of it's foot. Howling with pain the gnoll jumped backwards, and ind grabbed anoter spilled arrow fom the ground, and stood, ramming it under it's jaw, sending a gush of blood running down his arm. He then looked past the bleeding gnoll to see the shaman pointing his staff at him, and barking a word. Suddenly light becan pouring forth from the end of the staff toward Vind. He quickly used the gnoll as a shield and they were both struck by an explosion of magical blasts. The gnoll took the brunt of it, but the force was enough to send Vind reeling backward. Off balance, the tossed the body aside, and searched for his bow. He spotted it out of reach, and picked up a stone at his feet, and threw it as hard as he could at the shaman. The rock struck it squarely in the head, knocking it to it's knees. Vind ran for his bow, and heard a THUNK! noise, and felt a sharp pain in his leg. He clenched his teeth and growled at the thick shaft of a gnoll arrow sticking out of his thigh.

Holwing with victory, the archer readied another arrow, but ducked as a stone flew past it, thrown by the merchant. his gave Vind his chance to grab his bow, notch an arrow, and fire, striking the beast dead center of his chest. He reloaded and fired again and again and again, four arrows sticking out of the hairy torso of the quickly dying creature. Limping with agony, Vind drew close to the stunned shaman, and put an arrow pointblank into it's skull.

The merchant, angry with terror ran around with his little club, smashing each gnolls head to a pulp for good measure. Vind limped back to the fire ring and sat down with a groan. The little merchant, his fear and anger subsiding, came up to Vind and looked him over.
"Oi'm serry, so serry fer trippin ye up. Oi were scared Oi'd be chopped to bits!"
"Mmm...it's alright...gah this damned thing hurts..."
"Lemme see dat. Ooch...dat be a tick one fer sure. 'Ere, lemme fix'er oop."

The merchant goes to his wagon and gets a few supplies and manages to remove the arrow from Vind's leg and they both patch the wound up as good as they could with what they had. The fat man, to nervous to fall back asleep for hours sat up yammering to Vind until the late night. Eventually he fell asleep again, and Vind sat up, keeping watch, and tending his leg, wondering what the next day would bring.

[Booze Hound]

The day passed uneventfully until they finally reached the forest itself. Once they came under the shade of the thick ancient canopy, Vind felt a wash of memories come over him. He remembered days and days spend alone as a child so long ago wandering the forest, making friends with the small creatures of the woods. He had learned some of his forest skills from his father, and some from his own trial and errors. Cormanthor...it had taught him so much. But as many happy memories passed over him, so did others that he was not so eager to remember.

He thought on his careless lackluster way he took to his fathers training. He didn't care much for the sword, and was willing to let his natural skill with a bow be enough rather than practice. He thought of how this lack of initiative would ultimatly cost him so much.

He remembered Illiyana's death, and the grim thoughtless way he then travelled and trained with his father and his patrols. He thought of the drow he had slain near the elven court, the gnolls he had fought in the forest, and the silence that ruled between himself and his father.

He remembered his self imposed exile from his home, and the last time he turned and looked back on Cormanthor before finding himself in Cormyr.

Vind sighed as the thoughts passed through his mind, and he came back to the present, letting the memories of so long ago fade to a place where they could be more easily ignored. He then hopped off the wagon and looked up at the chubby little merchant, "I will take my leave of you here. I will take another path to the Tangled Trees, the road should be safe enough for you from here on out, good luck."
"Well, tank ye sir elf, Oi sherly appreciate yer 'elp on de jerney, ye take care o'yerself, an good luck on wot'e'er it be yer lookin fer."

Vind nods to the fat man and trots off under the trees off the main road, seeking an old ranger trail that would get him to the Tangled Trees hours quicker. He soon finds it, and sets his pace to the long ground eating trot he has used so often over the years, quickly putting miles behind him. His senses taking in his surroundings, he begins to remember the sights, smells, and sounds of the forest he knew so well. It had only been a few years, perhaps fifteen since he had left, but again, it seemed like many many more.

He passed another elf, a ranger, taking the path the other direction, they both gave each other a passing nod, but did not slow their pace, each wanting to reach their destinations. and soon, he began to see more and more sign on the trail of usage, he was nearing the Tangled Trees.

Finally, he slowed his pace and looked to two large trees that stood like sentries over the trail. He raised his hand and gave a nearly unnoticeable gesture, then headed forward past the trees. Far up in the boughs, out of sight from even Vind's keen eyes, two elven archers recognised the sign and let the ranger pass. Vind took a deep breath and could smell the familiar scents of home. Smoking venison and trout, berries and fruits drying in the sun, tanning oils, and many many more. He looked around and took in the sights of Tangled Trees.

If ever there was a community made by and for woodland folk, it was the Tangled Trees. The homes were high in the tree tops along with the two inns and most of the merchant shops. Rope bridges and pullies and swings and zip lines ran through the tree limbs like an intricate web built by a giant spider. The buildings all held the elvish design to flow with the shape of the trees in which they were housed, and the overall view was breathtaking as the forest seemed to almost pulse with life. The population of the town was not large, and most of it's residents were there only half the year, but still, it moved with a life of its own.

Vind took another deep breath and spoke softly to himself, "And now to begin the hunt..."

[Booze Hound]

Vind finds one of the elevator systems that quickly takes a forest traveller to the tops of the ancient trees. A brilliant design of ropes and weights allow one to unhook a knot from a joint in a tree and a weight descends from above to raise the rider to the top on a small platform. But one wanting to come from the top to the ground quickly could easily adjust a few ropes in the tree limbs and be speeding down to the ground in a controlled manner. Once reaching the top, Vind looked aroud to get his bearings. He pulled his hood down low over his head and began to head to the Inn that his father and his patrol crew frequented.

He reached The True Shot tavern and ewnt inside. The crowd was mellow, it was just past midday, so it was not crowded. Vind sat at the bar and looked around the room. There were an assortment of people in the room, more elves and half-elves than he had seen in years, but also a few human rangers and one who looked to be a druid.
"And what shall you have sir?" Came a voice from behind the bar.
He turned and saw an elven lass, beautiful as all their kind and familiar to Vind. He faced her, and pulled his hood back a bit so she could see his face clearly. He looked at her grimly with his finger to his lips.
She stared at him for a moment, looking over his features, and then her eyes brightened, "Vi-!", she lowered her voice "Vindalthan! Is that really you? It has been years since any word has been heard from you. Your fath-" She lowers her eyes a bit, then looks back at him sadly, "I suppose that is why you have returned? You heard the news?"
Vind nodded, "Aye, I heard, that is why I am here. But I am also thirsty. A mug of that cider from the Dales if you dont mind Feyallan."
She smiled at him and hurried off to get the mug of cider and Vind again looked around the room. When she returned, he took the mug and took a deep drink, then looked to her.
"I want to know what happened. I know you hear some things, I want to know what rumors you heard here before I go looking for sources that were closer to the matter."
"Vind...that was nearly eight months ago...you don't actually hope to go looking for the one responsible. Those drow are crawling all over the Elven Court, more so since your father's- well without him and his cadre of fighters, they have grown bolder still. There could be no way that you could find the murderer."
Vind sets his gaze upon her, saying nothing, but his eyes spoke of his devotion to his goal.
She frowns and sighs, "I can see you are set in your ways, that is the same look you had just before you disappeared. I'll tell you what I can, but there are surely others that know more."

Vind leans forward and listens as Feyallan tells him what rumors she could remember when the story was the fresh gossip of Tangled Trees. The conversation is ocassionally interrupted by customers needing drinks, and before long, it is much more crowded in the inn. They decide to wait and continue the conversation after she has closed for the night, and Vind went to a dark corner to think on what she told him already. He lit a pipe and smoked some of the Calimshan weed that Hrothgar had given him. He watched the crowd, and let his keen ears hear what he can from the patrons. After a few hours the inn begins to clear and Feyallan begins to shuffle the customers out the door. She cleans up, and goes to a small door behind the bar and motions for Vind to follow.

The door leads up a small set of stairs to a small room. It is comfortably furnished with a small bed, and a few soft chairs and a small table that served as a desk and dining table. It was softly lit and smelled of sage and pine and flowers. Vind took in the room, then looked to Feyallan.
"Come Vind, sit with me a while and I will tell you all I know without the distraction of the others."
He sat with her in one of the chairs and listened to her story.

The next morning he rose early and silently slipped into his clothes. Feyallan sat in one of the chairs across from him in a light reverie, wearing nothing but a light sheet. Vind looked at her with little emotion, but felt a slight sense of relief from being in such a familiar place once again. She glanced at him and smiled. He nodded and left the room with his gear and went to seek those whom would know more.

He walked out into the early dawn light and headed to the barracks.

[Booze Hound]

Though it was barely dawn, the town was already moving about quietly. Being a village of mostly woodland folk, most were early rising, eager to get moving and not waste the day. Vind felt more at home than ever among these people. He understood their stoic faces, and the private things that weigh on the minds of all those who live the solitary life of a ranger, worrying over such a vast place, protecting all who dwell in a ranger's chosen forest, wandering ever alone with your thoughts.

He hooked his soft boot into the loop of a rope, and went sailing through the air from one platform to another, softly landing on the other side. He smiled at the ease of travel and ingenuity of the systems set up amongst the trees. He secured the rope for the next traveller and continued walking toward the barracks where he expected to find what was left of his father's patrol force preparing for the day.

The baracks was located on the lowest level of the town. It was about fifty feet above the forest floor, but still another fifty feet below the next level. It was built this way to ensure that fighting men were the first thing an enemy would encounter of the village were ever attacked. Vind found another rope and released the catch, and quickly glided down to the barracks level, watching as the counter weight glided up past him. He landed and secured the rope, and ehadde to the door. A guard waited at the entrance and eyed him as he approached.
"You need something?"
"I wish to speak to the captain of the Dawn Patrol."
"Captain Qualinothas is preparing for the morning outing with the rest of the patrol and should not be disturbed."
Vind eyed the guard flatly, "I am Vindalthan, son of Captain Alanathas, founder of the Dawn Patrol. I will speak to Qualin now."
The guard's eyes grew wide for a moment, then he cleared his throat, "Ah yes, well then, I am sure that Captain Qualinothas will make an exception." He then turned and rapped a quick pattern of knocks on the door. A sliding of a bar from the other side was heard, and the door swung open to a dark room.
"What is it?"
"Visitor for the Captain."
"You know the Captain does not-Vindalthan? is that you?"
Vind nodded as he looked to the hooded elf in the doorway.
"By the gods...come in, he will be eager to speak with you."
The guard stepped to the side, and Vind quitely entered the building.

The elf reached out and toook Vind's hand, "It is good to see you, but a shame that it is under such sad circumstances. I am afraid that with your father's death, things are not the same as they once were with the Dawn Patrol. Captain Qualinothas is doing a fine job...but your father was one to be feared by our enemies. With him gone...it is more difficult for us to keep them in check."
Vind nodded and continued following the ranger through the dark hallway. The hall seemed to wind through and around the tree, the walls alternating being a part of the tree, and a part of a craftman's work. The smell of leather oil and equipment seemed to leak out of the walls as he passed rooms with soldiers preparing for the day. Finally they reached a door and stopped. The elf tapped out a quick pattern on the door and a voice from inside spoke, "Come in."
The elf opened the door and announced, "Someone you will want to see, sir." and Vind stepped through.

The Captain squinted with a stern look on his face. His expression read that he was not happy to be disturbed. He leaned over maps on his desk, and dispatch papers were cluttered everywhere. Pins with different tags on them were marking areas all over the largest map, one depicting the whole of Cormanthor. There was a large cluster of black flagged pins in the area around the Elven Court. The Captain looked Vind over with a harsh eye, then suddenly his expression softened, "Gods...I thought we'd never see you here again." He then nodded to the elf and the door shut quietly behind Vind.

"I recieved word of what happened, I plan to regain what is mine from the fiend who slew my father.
The Captain stood up straight and frowned. His hair was brown, but some silver streaks could be seen in the low torchlight. He was not old, but the sudden responsibility of filling the role of Captain had aged him prematurely. he rubbed his temples and walked around the desk. He gestured to a chair for Vind to sit and leaned on the desk facing him. Vind sat and waited for a reply.
"I understand how you must feel Vindalthas, but it has been many months, we searched, but could not get to the assassin. It is a fruitless-"
"Stop Qualin. Do not patronise me like I am the green whelp I was when I left. I have learned much in my absence, and can take care of myself. And I have a plan."
Qualin looked Vind over and nodded, "Aye, I can tell. You have a hardness in your eye that was not there before. But all the desire in the world cannot get back that which is unreachable. The drow have increased in number since your father's death. They grow more bold every day, Jezz sends his assassins and thieves to plunder more and more of the forest, and I am stretched too thin to do anything substantial about it. there is no way that you could get near enough the Court to find this killer."
"I wont need to. Do you honestly think that when Jezz hears that the son of Alanathas, his great enemy has returned that he will not want to finish the job? He stole my family's blade, he will want to finish my line. He will send that bastard Dalakoth for me, you know it and so do I. Dalakoth was the one that killed my father. Jezz would trust no one else, and no other could have done the job."
Qualin sat back and stared at Vind for a few moments. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, then let out an exasperated sigh, "Aye Vind, you are right. That is exactly what that bastard will do. And I am sure word will reach him soon enough that you are here. So what do you want me to do to help?"
Vind looked at him flatly, "Nothing, simply let word spread, I will handle things on my own."

He stood and turned and walked out of the barracks. Qualin shook his head and sighed.

[Booze Hound]

It had been two weeks since Vind had arrived in Tangled Trees, and he had began working with the Dawn Patrol the very morning he spoke with Captain Qualinothas. He worked as a scout for the group, staying wide of the main force, and bringing back information for them. Often he would simply attack small groups on his own, occasionally letting one escape to bring word of his presence.
He felt the thirst for vengance grow with every drow he slew. Sometimes they would hunt the gnolls that plagued the forest, but more often than not, Vind was able to convince the Captain to pursue the drow of the elven court.
His time spent in Cormyr had honed his skills. He had fought drow in the Marsh of Tun, and had become proficient in slaying them. He had studied their movements, and ways in the deep caverns of the Upperdark near the ruins of the Oghrann city and hunted them as often as he could.
His increased skill with his bow was evident to Qualin as well as to the other rangers whom had known him before. He seemed almost singleminded in his desire to hunt and slay the drow of Cormanthor. He would often stay out later than the rest of the patrol, almost taunting the drow with their advantage in the dark. And when he would finally come back to the town, he slept away from the rest of the men, making himself an even more tempting target.

As he lay on his bedroll, looking at the stars through the tree tops, he found himself lost in his thoughts.Soon. Soon that crippled bastard will send Dalkoth for me. I will be ready. I will not fail this time, I will regain that which is mine and avenge the memory of my father.
He nibbled a bit of food that he had gotten from the Tavern the day before and sat up against a tree. He took a sip from his water skin and allowed himself to slip into a light reverie, his thoughts going over the faces of those he had slain in the past two weeks, and imagining the face of the one he would slay in the days to come.