You ask, Naneth, what duty I have drawn. I tell you--I guard a tree--a dead tree! Can you imagine a duty so absurd? I stand there for hours at a time, dressed in archaic armor with pike in hand, and keep watch on a tree that has been dead so long its bark has fallen off! I admit that even in death the White Tree is shapely. But I ask you--would you think it a necessary task? I may not move whilst on guard, nor may I speak with my fellows. I am oft bored to tears.
