Return to Duty

Finally back to my feet I headed out of Bree reinvigorated and focused on repaying all the kindnesses of late by pushing back the evils that threaten townsfolk across Breeland. First though, I had unfinished business.

I headed strait from the Old Forest. That Haunted Barren Oak would burn in the fire at the Prancing Pony tonight! I knew where to find the evil thing, but along the way I stumbled upon a path I'd not seen before. As it appeared to be a quicker route to my bark clad target I followed it.

A few steps in the path opened into a clearing. Once inside I was immediated assailed by towering vicious timber! It appears this clearing was home to an entire forest of menacing hardwoods. A wiser man would have turned back, but I had vengeance and the loss of my eye on my mind.

Hours went by as bits of bark, sap, and my own blood flew all about. I crushed roots under foot as one after another the demonic trees were feld. I lost count of how many went down. I stacked their remains high to later return with a wagon to collect them. I was exhausted, spent, but not yet satisfied.

Pressing on though waves of spiders and clinging webs I finally reached the topiary menace that had taken my eye. I was in full blood lust, my judgment clouded with retribution and foolhardy from recent victories. Without a thought I charged in, tearing into the Oak as it's roots and spiders assaulted me from all sides. As if surprised, the thing stumbled backwards. pressed into it, driving my spear deeper and deeper into its trunk. It fell to my feet as I was nearly over come by it's henchmen.

Fighting nearly to the bitter end I crushed the last spider under my boot and collapsed. Though I knew it was not safe here I remained prone as I regained my strength with a few tarts and some wine. It took quite awhile to recover (I even impaled a spider on a javelin thrown without even rising to my feet). When I was finally refreshed I chopped a few trophy branches from the horror and collected what useful wood their was from it and it's brethren before returning to Bree.

That night, the Prancing Pony was exceptionally warm as the remains of the evil vegetation of the Old Forest burned bright in the fires. A impromptu celebration of the victory went on through the night that even drew Buckland folk to Bree. Daisy Appledore, though she simply came to congratulate and bestow the humorous "Root-Hewer" title upon me, ended up passed out on a bench in the corner. Gib Heathstraw made an appearance but was soon off on his own engrossed in whittling. He simply could not resist working with the unusual wood I had returned with.

It was a night to remember followed by a morn of pain that I'd have given anything to forget.