I am less a fool then when I arrived, but I am still a fool.

*scrawled in a margin*

Life has no step in the process to deal with abberations, or the living dead. Not the elements, or plague, no animal to hunt such foul creatures save the druid itself.

This land has fallen from balance, the unnatural rules and it is up to the druids to hunt down and fell these abominations. We will be unyielding in this hunt and all abberations and abberation touched shall fall before the slumbering might of the caverns.

The Battles Between the Abberations.

I have witnessed with my own eyes that there is a fight going on beneath the valleys of the world, beneath the mines, and beneath the darkest caverns, all the way in the womb of the earth there is battle. A battle on which the fates of those summer valleys does rest. A battle that must be stirred and nurtured for if ever there is a winner, we all will die, the cycle will end. It is a battle between the most powerful abberations, so powerful that not even the minds are safe from their gaze.

What I have seen is that the Eye-Tyrants and the Illithids have clashed togeather beneath the sands. I have seen Illithid skulls litter the grounds around they pits of the Beholders. I have seen Illithids and their thrall abberations clash with the beholders and be slaughtered, yet the Illithids of tales are not stupid creatures. They must have a reason to push against the Beholders, some sense that they can win. It is not a futile gesture to push all the way to the caverns of an enemy and die near his gates. Or so I would think, this place is filled with futility and my own blade could not touch such creatures.

I have spoken to a thrall of the Beholders, he did seem certain of victory. Yet he was a mindless thrall, a servant and slave perhaps mindless in more then just the figurative sense. I know so little about the fearsome creatures. His words that the war would soon be ended sent a chill through my spine, and it was with a shaking blade that I did spill his blood and send him back into the cycle. His mind corrupted by abberations, his body still the stuff of life, I have no doubt that it was with relief that nature did accept his blood into the sands.

His words though, about the war ending soon, lies or trickery it does not matter for they must be respected. If the war were to end then all hope for this place is lost, and from the womb abberations will spill onto the surface where other druids do foolishly claim balance. The druids are shortsighted to not see this coming, though perhaps I am just so misguided that I see not what they see. Even though I am not graced with the power to fell even one such creature I will do what I can to gain in strength and keep this war eternal. I will use what I have, I will use the resources of the other sentient races and I will drive to wipe out these nests of Abberations.