• The woods. The forest, for you technical types...
    The grounds for all the wonderous creatures to roam. They graze, they live, they prosper. Some are hunted. Others live and care for one another. The circle of life dictates which fate befalls the beings.

    There is, though, some instances that a foreign being lives in these woods. They are the defenders of nature. The soldiers of the godess meilikki. They are rangers. This one ranger in particular, should be truly among the dead.

    A shadow was moving among the bushes, tracking a rather large buck. He was silent, only wearing a set of light, olive-green clothes. As he took cover in the bushes, his hand crept down to the quiver on his hip. The arrow it held was made of fine, black wood. The fletching wasn't anything special, just feathers from a common bird. The head was steel, covered in some kind of oil to dull the shine. He raised the bow slowly in his left hand, knotching the arrow with his right. He pulled the string back, feeling the tension in it. The lone deer looked up as the arrow left its place, flying to its true place. The arrow protruded from under its left leg. It began to run, but didn't make it far. It died as the shadow in the bush thanked his god and emerged. The slightly tapered ears were the first apparent thing. He was half-elf, half-human apparently. He wore a set of scimitars on his belt as well as the quiver on his hip. The black bow in his hands was well used, showing its reliability. Finally, a statement crept from the lips of the half-elf.
    "Finally got me some supper...was starvin' friend...I'm sorry it came to that..."
    He walked over to the fallen deer, removing the arrow. He began to tie a rope around its shoulders. Ezekiel Daspien Ryshrike began to drag his meal back to his camp to skin and clean the prize.