| Journal - A Broken Road |
| Summary: | Chandus Serjeant at Arms Lawrence Verus writes about the Galenthian Brigade's march north to join their comrades near Goldhollow and engage the Rikton invaders. |
| Date: | 28 Juillet, 1868 IE |
| Related: | Journal - The Journey South |
| NPCs: | {$npc} |
| Players: |
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Friday 28 Juillet - The Fallow Lands
Finally, we're back on our own native soil. The journey from Four Corners to Firen was uneventful, thankfully. We encountered a few odd Kentairish raiding squadrons, but their ships honoured the truce flag we had put aloft and left us well alone. This, at least, was a great relief to all present, not least of all to our prisoner, the Kentairish Praetor Marcus Surelius. Upon making landfall in our capital two weeks ago, we sent him off with his troops back home alongside a Galenthian truce flag of our own. If the way they fought at d'Kemp is any indication, I hope we won't meet the Praetor or his legionairies again on the field of battle.
I suppose that her Majesty and Baron Chandus figured we'd had enough of a rest in Four Corners while our ships were repaired, because after taking on supplies and replenishing our ranks with reserves, we left within a week on the road north to combine forces with the Army of the Lord Marshal, Duke Gauvain Tarris. Once we passed through the holding army of the Keeper of Seals that is preventing any Rikton incursions into the Crownlands we entered into the Fallow Lands proper. Our destination is the town of Orocla, south of the most important seat at Goldhollow and Rikton's probably objective.
The last time I passed through Goldhollow and the Fallow Lands was during the tail end of the First Succession War at the Battle of Mathis, where we defeated the last loyalists of the Thorn. I must say that I'd expected this rich land to have improved in the years since then, but unfortunately, the opposite has been true. Villagers are depopulated and their residents sullen, lacking in hope or inspiration. The ones we talked to were happy to take our money for their wares but didn't seem to care much if their rulers swore to the Griffon Throne of Galenthia or the Cross of Rikton. The roads, further, are in a dreadful condition, and since we've taken the central route through the hills, there have been no rivers for us to barge up. All this means that the going has been slow and hard.
We're now two days from Oracla. Our scouts and rangers have spotted Rikton's own outriders shadowing us, and they're have even been a few skirmishers, though nothing bigger than a section size. Every step we take north into these broken, contested lands means a step closer into danger. It does seem that no matter where we show up, danger is soon to follow. I'll keep on my edge.