I have done before, so shall I write once again. This is my story.
Zalph Petzana, an elf; claims perception and knowing. He proves himself true.
A tree is a kaer? It looms above the servos! A great, huge, green tree.
It hardly seems real. Yet I sense magic within. Wood as strong as steel.
Signs as bright as stars. A great majesty of life, But too small for trolls.
A windling kaer, then? We don't have time to find out! The Death's Head Rises!
I walk softly fore. Our center is Aro'al. A brother/sister?
It is Calapa. And a feral city troll? Krel An of Travar.
Krel An Shouts Warning! The Death's Head flies and bellows. A resounding blow!
Dull wood cleaves flesh. I spin, and kick, but go wide. The elf darts fly home.
Our enemy dies. The jungle hoots and calls back, always undisturbed.
We approach the tree. Kato wrapped in shadows kiss. Above the kue mate.
My steady hands rise. I climb the tree to peer in. The bole above weeps.
Krel An Raises Voice! In challenge I shall respond. A rain of green kue.
The battle is joined! We are outmatched by the kue. There are too many!
Calappa falls first. I quickly join her, born down. Their swelling numbers!
We bleed and stagger. One by one we fall to pain. Bled dry by such pricks.
We must ask later. Elementalist magic. Only Zalph still stands.
Then comes the darkness. Tiny fingers awaken. A windling tends me.
Is it our heart's cry? Has she come to rescue us? No, but a windling.
Sad, sorry creature. She cannot speak for her fear. Or for her vile curse.
Each year one is snatched. The horror knows no remorse. This little one next.
Her life handed off, to buy one more meagre year, for those who know not.
I can not stand it! I will not let them suffer. Honor demands it.
The others complain. We are too injured, they say. We then must retreat.
But I will come back. Little windling you will see... You are not alone.
(Dated and signed; Kato, the Shadow-Sin of Travar)