Lost and Forgotten

The nights rain is cold and unforgiving as he finally reaches the surface for the first time in what he believes is years. He takes a deep breath of the fresh forest air and makes haste from the mine he used as an escape route from the drow. He knew they would be after and upon him soon so he has to move fast. Relying on his memory of his beloved homeland he spent the entirety of the night running back to Myth Drannor. As dawns first rays broke through the forest canopy he stood looking upon the place he once called home with tears of joy and a smile.

His smile fades and his joyous tears turn bitter as it seems nothing has changed, nor has nothing been done about his disappearance. His hands clench around the hem of his tattered and bloody defender's cloak as the reality of being forgotten settles in. Watching all the elves go about their business without so much as a greeting and praise of his return, he unclasps his cloak, letting it fall to a crumpled heap at his feet. His unshaven face looks out across the camp once more before he turns and heads back into the wilderness, back to where his life began, back to where he was meant to be.

His body battered and bruised, he uses his learned skills to fix himself up as best as possible, and sets his camp up with the rest of the ranger's in Fox Ridge. This time he won't forget what he was raised as and his purpose, to defend the land from any that would defile it and not in a army fighting to control territory. He is a ranger of Meleikki, not a scout for a army to be used and forgotten by them when he is no longer useful or captured.

Tracker Stormtrail has returned to the Dalelands, and won't soon forget those who forgot him nor will he forget his purpose EVER again.

Cealine caught news from a scout of Tracker and would of followed him to where ever he went