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Player's Guide Places People History Beliefs


Reflection On The Seasons Passing
A winter without end?
Sitting here among the brambles of Thorn Hill watching the leaves being blown from their branches, making a flowing river of amber and purple through the chill autumn air, I have come to think on the experience of the past few months. Though much has transpired I shall leave the history lesson to the scholars. My reflection is on my own growth through much adventuring and entering back into society I have come to recognize my own need for friendship. Just as the wolf will hunt in a pack to aid each other for the good of the whole pack, so my friends have become to me, my own pack as it were. We each have our special roles to play, some are skilled fighters such as the mighty Dragon Shaman and the equally as powerful Marshal, and some are guardians and protectors such as the Cleric. Some are crafty and skillful like the Rogue while others are wise and methodical such as the Monk. This causes me to reflect on my own purpose, what is my calling, my contribution to our goals. Perhaps its time to put away my childish ways, to take the true mantle of a guardian of nature. The powers that bind this natural world together have brought me to these brave adventurers to serve a purpose.

Lately, a large number of unnatural monsters have begun to appear across the land, strange beasts from realms unknown controlled by a great evil purpose of which I can not imagine.... Rumors of a great evil deep within the sea, mysterious dreams, and a vault of unspeakable horrors.

Why does the spirit of the mountain call on me? A young gnome druid, what about Thorne the druid of the Thorn Hill sitting beside me, is not his power far greater than my own? What purpose does this world have for me, what power is bringing me closer to the flame of my own destiny? Will I be ready to meet the challenge? Will I have the courage to put off this silly demeanor and rise to the challenge laid before me, or will I be trampled under foot to return to the ground which gave birth to me.

Either way, the winds of the north have turned cold and the winter is coming... Will the world see its own rebirth in the spring, or will we all be buried by the unyielding snow of an endless winter.

Associated Regions: Thorn Hill
From the journal of Gim

Contributor: James Farr