My dearest Paprika,

            Even as I write this, I am thinking of you.  I am also lost within the Menowood, a forest, which both inspires awe and shivers your bones.

            After I left Nayford, I again rode to Seblingham.  The temple to the human god Heironeous that the townsfolk had started building had really taken shape in the three weeks since my departure.  Meanwhile, my newfound comrades had rested and healed, both body and spirit, and several had honed their skills during this hiatus.  Even Mike, who as I described to you is about as nimble as he is handsome, was showing signs of real skill with that large sword of his.  I still think wrapping a man in a suit of steel like a lobster is ridiculous, but then – humans . . .there is no reasoning with them!

            The priest I mentioned, Kobort, had been promoted among his clergy.  I mis-recollect the title, but it makes him an important person in Seblingham.  I noticed that he had also gotten very friendly with the blacksmith’s daughter.  I must say, for a half-orc, he shows great restraint, but I think if she has her way, the cream will soon be off the milk.  This unlikely union appears to have raised no eyebrows in this village, and even has the blessing of the blacksmith himself, who Kobort cured of madness through divine prayer.

            Kespin, the bard who I was graced to play with at the celebration, and Westwind , the halfing warrior in this company, have also found sweethearts among the villagers.  Westwind approached me about trailing his new love’s lost brother, but although I was able to find traces, the trail was over a month cold.  Very little could be discovered, except wolves, which Westwind claimed were related to a druid that frequents that particular glade.  An unnerving experience.

            Shortly after my return, we received news that an elven village in the Menowood had not been heard from in some time.  Another ranger, who had left to investigate about the same time I began the journey back to you, had also not reported in.  With this dark news, we started into the Menowood to determine what we could about this village.

            Of course, none of the humans knew where the village was, nor had any been there.  The best they could tell us is that it was to the north and west in the woods.  Kobort, upon our entry into the forest proper, turned to me and said, “Lead on!”

            Lead on!  What do I know of forests?  And what a forest this is, my love!  The trees are as big around as any house in Nayford, saving my own family’s, and rise up like they would brush the heavens.  I quickly lost sight of the sun, which made it difficult to keep a true course.  The nonsense you read about moss only growing on one side of a tree is just that- nonsense.  I saw whole trees that were covered in moss and lichens.

            I tried to keep to a course, but suddenly I heard a scrabbling noise in the trees ahead.  It was an ambuscade of three odd insectoid-like monsters, that cast webs down from the branches above like a fisher throws his net into the water.  I dodged one such web, but another entangled me.  My comrades and I fought hard and felled two before the third ran, our bolts still quivering in its flesh.

            Unfortunately, the battle threw off my sense of direction.  I tried in vain to right our course, but after a few hours of wandering, it was clear to me that we were lost in the wood.  I did not let on to the others, as I did not wish to unduly frighten them.  We began blazing trees to see if we were going in circles and finally, as the last of the sun’s filtered light faded, we stopped and tried to get some rest.

            I had forbidden any fires, to avoid drawing any creatures to us.  As a result, we had no light by which to see oncoming dangers.  It nearly proved to be our undoing.  In the small hours of the morning, our wounded foe returned with a horde of its brethren.  Above our heads, they wove a huge web in which to trap us.  Had we not been alerted by its excited chittering, I might never have been able to pen this letter to you.  Kespin, who for all his danified prancing is actually a cool head in a fight, sang a strange melody and caused light to form on a branch above us, revealing the web.  Quickly, we ran before the monsters could take any action.

            More was to befall us though.  Just as we came to a halt, we heard a crashing sound from in front of us.  Seven dire boars, some eight to nine lengths tall at the shoulder, sixteen lengths long from snout to tail, came trotting towards us.  We knew we were outmatched, and quickly tried to hide or climb.  Quickly, we were all safely hidden or up in a tree.

            All of us save one.  Westwind, weighed down by his chainmail shirt, was not able to scramble up the slick bark of the nearest tree.  His fervent attempts attracted the boars, which rushed him en masse.  One gored him as he continued to try and climb, spurred on by the sure knowledge that if he did not climb, he was surely dead.

            In his fear, Westwind failed to note a hole near his feet.  Between two of the large roots, some creature had burrowed into the black loam, leaving a hole just large enough for a halfling.  I wasted no time shouting this information to Westwind, which made several of the boars turn and regard ME.  I leapt for the lowest branch, caught it and swung up just in time to avoid being gored by tusks myself.

            Westwind jumped down the hole, but the boar that had tusked him had tasted his blood and wanted more.  It began to dig after him, as if he were a truffle.  In an attempt to gain its attention, I did the only thing I could.  I began to shout.

            I invoked Yondalla, our Bountiful Goddess.  I shouted dwarven obscenities.  I screeched and howled at those boars.  And somehow, it worked!  Kobort says that Heironeous, pleased with my courage, favored me.  Mike said that I scared them off with my smell, Kespin believes it was several squeaky high notes I hit as I was shouting that hurt their ears.  Whatever it was, the beasts suddenly had no desire to stay.  The digger, having been given a snoutful of steel by Westwind and struck by one of my bolts, decided that halflings are too much trouble for breakfast, and joined his brethren as they retreated back into the forest.

            It is daylight now, and though we are exhausted, we are going to press on.  I believe I can find our way now that the sun, even dimmed through the leaves, has returned.  I hope to write more soon.

            I miss you as always, and look forward to being with you again soon.  In my absence, please give my affection and felicitations to my mother, father and two brothers.  Give my best regards to your father Herb, and to your siblings Rosemary, Parsley, Mustard, Cinnamon, Caraway, Cherry, and Pepper.

I am and remain

Affectionately Yours,

Wrye Leagallow