*The elven man in patchwork clothes enters the ranger station in Rose Burrow, sitting by the fire. He removes his cloak, and produces a fine golden harp from his pack. It seems to radiate an iridescent light around the room, as if a reflection of the moon into a lake. He clears his throat and strums softly gaining the crowds attention*
"Greetings, to those of you who do not know me, I am Felix Valentune. Recently A great aid was given me by the rangers of this station, and I have composed a tune for you all as a small recompense. I do hope you all enjoy it."
*The melody is a rambuncious one, bouncing about the strings in good cheer. The voice begins to accompany the harp in the soft language of the elves.*
Within the forests of Rose Burrow lie,
A folk that follow their hearts as code,
Dressed in garb of green and black and brown dyes,
And as they stroll the old forest road,
Their steps are watched by Den'ere's Eye,
An arrow may bolt from the shadow most dark,
The teeth of the forest bared against evils who roam,
Guided now sharp, by leaf, stone, and bark,
The sharp bite returns the the feind to the loam,
The moon may not shine, but the arrow finds it's mark,
Surrounded with freinds, that the forest doth lend,
Of animals, druids and nymphs a most beautiful company,
Troupe while shy, but you shall find, the forest well doth tend,
The bounty of which, is fortified with splendor in a' plenty,
And if you of heart, you to will find, the rangers a hand extend,
High and low,
With bow in tow,
The rangers of RoseBurrow,
About the forest do go,
Seeking out shadowy foe,
High and low,
Through thunder and snow,
A tide of arrows, the sky doth flow,
A rain most sharp does fall and glow,
Their enemy the seed, the rain doth sow,
Low and high,
The rangers do stride by,
The dark ones harken, squinting their eyes,
From the leaves, an arrow might fly,
And only the forest would they spy,
Low and high,
With the forest ally,
And mayhap the rangers remain a bit shy,
But if you do pry, A bad guest oft find,
That the forest is kept by the ranger's by and by,
Far and wide.
By the forest abide,
And if your intent is to vied,
And your thoughts not well tied,
From your mind, they might be stolen and pried,
For the rangers do well,
Keeping safe where they dwell,
And watching the roads a' close,
So tread with care,
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