An Ode to the North Wind

Up in the north where the cold winds blow-
Lies a busy little place all covered in snow.
No proud or tall buildings grace this town-
For the merciless wind would blow them down.
Instead sturdy warm cabins the people have made-
Protecting all within a stout palisade.
Tales suggest Shaundukal did annoint-
Blessing the settlement called Endirs point.
Its folk labor despite winters breath-
For to sit or stand idle invites only death.
Those who value liberty Endirs sure to embrace-
Our rules are few against a dream you would chase.
No matter how far in my travels I roam-
There's only one place holding my heart MY HOME

Endir

Sera sees the poem as shes heading home, does a double-take, and walks the rest of the way to her house in tears that freeze to her cheeks in the cold.

_________________
Evil never looked so hot.

The early morning stillness is interupted by a dusky skinned maid in artic camoflage.She trudges through the snow delivering warm sausages and hot chocolate to the posted militia men and women.
She would offer a friendly smile and words of encouragement before making her way to Raltens Rest.There she would afix the following missive.

Good folk of Endirs Point,
I have penned the following to explain the commotion that occured in our lodge not a ten day past in the most artful way I could manage.

Before the BLACK HAND comes a knockin,lock and bar your door.
Cause if you leave it open,there's something fell in store.

It is not a helping hand,all it doles is strife.
If you value liberty it seeks to snuff your life.

Cloak yourself in ignorance,as we did before.
When they burst into our sanctum,and laid us on the floor.

Trussed us up like pigs they did,the questioning began.
Swift and cruel their aim was clear,to find those of the band.

They revelled in our terror,it gave them such a thrill.
Oh what strenth they showed to me to brutalize a girl.

My companions they then murdered, and fed them to the flame.
We were not prepared you see-our innocence to blame.

So here's my message to the HAND,I Would have you know
Our cry for freedom multiplies and on the winds will blow.

And knowing those of Raltens Band,they'll never rest their head.
Till all the chains lie broken,and Tyranny is DEAD.

Sandra Faris
Battle Herald
Raltens Band

*Ny pops out of the shadows of Endirs point, walking around a corner to come face to face with the postings. He smiles to himself, and stops in the temple to talk to the cheerful priest of Shaundakul there, mentioning the message and his recent travels. The ranger leaves on his regular patrols a cheery man this day*

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Nysor Shorshanis: A squirrel in his own right
Solrend Inignus: The Kossuthian cleric who is "hot, but not in that way"
Adin Twitterleaf: Crazy elven trickster.
Isaac Kley: Young gimp of a sorcerer.