(This is a strange book, crudely bound together by string.)

(The unfamiliar pages contain illegible characters and faded shapes.)

(Why is it here in the Manduri Village? Perhaps Phomona will know.)


Player: "I'll take it to Phomona."

A forest holds a lifetime of memories. It is a stage on which people and creatures alike perform. Trees carry both the scars of war and the marks of the lovelorn young.

So many stories. So many memories. Think about what you have seen in your short time here, Player, and now try to comprehend what Biadri feels when he senses this ancient forest dying.

The forest's greens and blues fade into a desert's yellows and browns. And while forests hold lifetimes, deserts frame footprints for just a moment before they are blown away forever.

Player: "Have you ever seen anything like this?"

From the Manduri Village, you say? Strange. They steal brightly colored, shiny objects, not literature. I'll assume they took this by accident.

This is very old. See the yellowed pages? Air and sunlight do that to a book over a great deal of time. The text was made using a charcoal stick of some kind, but I can say little more.

You should speak with Fuchsia in Sanctum. She can help you where I could not.

Player: "I'll take it to her, thank you."

What a pleasant surprise, Player! I was talking about you just yesterday! How are you?

I suspect one such as you does not simply arrive here by chance. Is there something with which I may assist?

Player: "Can you tell me anything about this book?"

Let me see. This paper is from a greenfen tree. Though faded, the smell of the sap is unmistakable.

Of course, the greenfen tree only grows in a small grove in Eltnen, now contained within the Manduri Village. How intriguing!

The words, if they are words, are too smudged and spoiled, for my eyes, Player. Allow me to send it to a friend whose trade is repairing and restoring old books. Come back later; perhaps we will have unravelled this mystery.