Keep your helmet on, there are sparrow oaks in this forest.
The hardest part about dealing with a ratwood tree is by the time you find it, there are dozens more you haven't found yet.
High above the lands of the living, where frost and howling of the wind reign, the morbid monument to a faith long dead calls the deceased on a last pilgrimage.
Ages past the Woodking fell into a deep and terrible slumber, and from the fever of his dreams and nightmares the wooden dungeon of Limberlost grew.
A race of people identical in all respects to humans except for the fact that they lay eggs.
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Latin for literally 'A Pleasant Place'