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Description
Mila, Lady-Scribe of Brivhamen under Her Serenity Queen Lorelei, the Lioness under Heaven, writes to her King Arug, Master of the Sword, Noble Lord of Brivhamen, the Lion under Heaven, on the Thirtieth Day of Terras, in the Seventh Year of her King's reign.

This is an inconvenient time for My King Arug to be away assisting our allies in Denua.  His cause is just and his sword is swift, but his Lady's servant bears a warning.  In recent days we here in the capital have received refugees from the hill tribes in west.  An unknown power is moving there, burning villages.  It gives no name and no quarter- most of the refugees have been women and their children.
Very few men have escaped.

My Queen greeted them formally and sent word to the outlying areas of Brivhamen to be vigilant.  A young chieftain described the taking and burning of her village by night: Arrows, spears, swords, maces- all manners of weapons held by all manner of soldier, though little of them could be seen until the fires started.  The few who escaped did not stay long enough to understand what manner of rank made up the enemy.  Walking among the assailers on horseback, she says a figure kept pace in some manner of armor, wearing a helm with the horns of a ram.  She believes it their general.  We are unsure of how large the force is, or where it is moving.

Brivhamen is strong even without most of Your Majesty's loyal Men of the Sword here, and we shall not fail our duty.  The Women of the Shield stand guard against the chaos of the world.  Our Queen and her knights await the return of their husbands without tears.  We send you these messages swiftly in hopes of your reply, and news of the Denuan front.  Gods grant you safety and victory.

The Thirty-Fourth Day of Terras-

My King Arug-The chieftain has fallen ill, and her people claim the enemy general cursed her with a plague.  They endeavor to leave Brivhamen.  Queen Lorelei fears for them in the wild, but has granted them safe passage to the forests to the North.  They hope to honor an ancient rite of kinship with forest tribes and start new lives.  They are strange people, and simple.  We pity them, but they have never had anything to offer us.

The Fortieth Day of Terras-

Even more refugees have arrived to replace those that have departed.  Our food stores hold, but any increase in even our contented nation needs to be watched.  Word of this enemy is spreading.  The tribes are fleeing to us now before the threat appears.  We do not even know if they are still being followed, but we fear this barbarian shadow will have no qualms about assaulting our land.  Only a fool would dare to breach our borders without a significant force.

The Fiftieth Day of Terras-

We are inspirited to hear of His Majesty Arug's ongoing success in the Eastern Campaign, punishing his foes for their upstart ambitions.  More refugees arrive, and we must relocate them.  Our Beloved Queen Lorelei and the valiant General Esmera have discussed conscripting them, and ultimately decided that the less we associate with them at this time, the less wrath we stand to bring to our own gates.  The stories of horror centering around the so-called Ram's-Head are growing more and more fictitious- blind panic is driving peoples to our sanctuary long before it appears.  They grow unruly, and we are preparing to turn them out.
The days grow shorter and colder upon us all.

The Sixty-First Day of Terras-

We closed our gates to the hill tribes, but still they come.  With the Men of the Sword away at His Majesty's service, the ignorant harass us, then learn that our small, quiet country's strength is two-fold.  We are fast and fierce.  We ignore pain as statues do.  We have rid of the capital of refugees, vying to maintain the dignity of Brivhamen Citadel and give our ladies a place to prepare stratagems.  Fools who have tried to have their ways with us have been made examples of.  These weak savages see the might of our nation now, and tremble: Women who are knights, for the essence of womanhood is a struggle.  The mother is always a guardian of that which she has already fought to bring into the world

The Sixty-Fifth Day of Terras-

News of the enemy has come to us as we continue to negotiate with the hill tribes.  The Ram's-Head marches on our borders.  Our spies confirm it to be moving towards the City of Cliffs from the northwest with a sizeable army.  Many of us have been dispatched to quell and relocate the tribes.  It is our way to leave our homes and children only when we are called by immediate danger; many wonder if we should not have taken action sooner.

In accordance with the threat, Her Serenity Queen Lorelei shall take her royal contingent of Shield Knights to the frontlines, and there join an alliance of friendly tribal armies to attempt to hold the enemy at the border.  The natives shall lure them between cliffs of the Royal Pass, and then we shall descend on them from the rocks and tear them apart.

The Seventieth Day of Terras-

Your contingent arrived yesterday, oh Valiant King, so henceforth I shall supplement the messages from your servant, Lord-Scribe Derrok, Scholar of the Grey Marches, with the tidings of your Queen herself, and my own experiences.  My beloved king is most gracious to spare us these troops to help quell the vast number of outsiders.

Our Queen is mustering arms and moving her soldiers out to the City of Cliffs.  I, Mila, Lady-Scribe and Historian of the Realm, remain at the citadel, but my spear sits by my side in my study.  I have strength of memory and writing, but the curse of the cripple shall keep me from witnessing Our Lady's battle.

The Fifth Day of Ventras.  Avaer is King in Heaven, and Avlin his Queen.  May their blessings sustain us in this new season of icy wind.

Your Lady, our Queen returned this day, supported as she walked by the General Esmera, the She-Wolf.  She wore the split helm of the outlaw general instead of her own, and brought back many captives, who speak an unknown tongue.  The General herself attests that the Queen, bearing her fearsome pike on foot, challenged the Ram's-Head, demanding to know its name, allegiance, and purpose.  Its only answer was an unearthly roar from beneath its horned helm, and it charged her.  The duel outlasted most of the fighting- our tactic had succeeded.  The foe bore a great battle axe and swung with the force of thunder.  Her Serenity was swift and agile- she let the Ram's-Head bear down on her for a time, then moved under its guard to try to strike against the strange armor each time they met.  She was only struck once by a glancing blow, and spun away in a second of recoil, bringing her blade between the ram's horns.  The enemy fell, and the fearful helm rolled off.  The tribal warriors nearby drew back, fearing a curse, but Queen Lorelei was brave, and looked upon the face of her foe- in surprise:  Hardened and scarred by harsh winters and a hundred pounds of armor, blocky and chiseled was the face.  But it was most certainly that of a woman.

We do not know what we have faced.  Her Serenity has retired to her chambers and awaits your return, My King Arug, Lion under Heaven.  She has only spoken to me and the General, and said but this:

"I have seen all of us lying there."

Description
Mila, Lady-Scribe of Brivhamen under Her Serenity Queen Lorelei, the Lioness under Heaven, writes to her King Arug, Master of the Sword, Noble Lord of Brivhamen, the Lion under Heaven, on the Thirtieth Day of Terras, in the Seventh Year of her King's reign.

This is an inconvenient time for My King Arug to be away assisting our allies in Denua.  His cause is just and his sword is swift, but his Lady's servant bears a warning.  In recent days we here in the capital have received refugees from the hill tribes in west.  An unknown power is moving there, burning villages.  It gives no name and no quarter- most of the refugees have been women and their children.
Very few men have escaped.

My Queen greeted them formally and sent word to the outlying areas of Brivhamen to be vigilant.  A young chieftain described the taking and burning of her village by night: Arrows, spears, swords, maces- all manners of weapons held by all manner of soldier, though little of them could be seen until the fires started.  The few who escaped did not stay long enough to understand what manner of rank made up the enemy.  Walking among the assailers on horseback, she says a figure kept pace in some manner of armor, wearing a helm with the horns of a ram.  She believes it their general.  We are unsure of how large the force is, or where it is moving.

Brivhamen is strong even without most of Your Majesty's loyal Men of the Sword here, and we shall not fail our duty.  The Women of the Shield stand guard against the chaos of the world.  Our Queen and her knights await the return of their husbands without tears.  We send you these messages swiftly in hopes of your reply, and news of the Denuan front.  Gods grant you safety and victory.

The Thirty-Fourth Day of Terras-

My King Arug-The chieftain has fallen ill, and her people claim the enemy general cursed her with a plague.  They endeavor to leave Brivhamen.  Queen Lorelei fears for them in the wild, but has granted them safe passage to the forests to the North.  They hope to honor an ancient rite of kinship with forest tribes and start new lives.  They are strange people, and simple.  We pity them, but they have never had anything to offer us.

The Fortieth Day of Terras-

Even more refugees have arrived to replace those that have departed.  Our food stores hold, but any increase in even our contented nation needs to be watched.  Word of this enemy is spreading.  The tribes are fleeing to us now before the threat appears.  We do not even know if they are still being followed, but we fear this barbarian shadow will have no qualms about assaulting our land.  Only a fool would dare to breach our borders without a significant force.

The Fiftieth Day of Terras-

We are inspirited to hear of His Majesty Arug's ongoing success in the Eastern Campaign, punishing his foes for their upstart ambitions.  More refugees arrive, and we must relocate them.  Our Beloved Queen Lorelei and the valiant General Esmera have discussed conscripting them, and ultimately decided that the less we associate with them at this time, the less wrath we stand to bring to our own gates.  The stories of horror centering around the so-called Ram's-Head are growing more and more fictitious- blind panic is driving peoples to our sanctuary long before it appears.  They grow unruly, and we are preparing to turn them out.
The days grow shorter and colder upon us all.

The Sixty-First Day of Terras-

We closed our gates to the hill tribes, but still they come.  With the Men of the Sword away at His Majesty's service, the ignorant harass us, then learn that our small, quiet country's strength is two-fold.  We are fast and fierce.  We ignore pain as statues do.  We have rid of the capital of refugees, vying to maintain the dignity of Brivhamen Citadel and give our ladies a place to prepare stratagems.  Fools who have tried to have their ways with us have been made examples of.  These weak savages see the might of our nation now, and tremble: Women who are knights, for the essence of womanhood is a struggle.  The mother is always a guardian of that which she has already fought to bring into the world

The Sixty-Fifth Day of Terras-

News of the enemy has come to us as we continue to negotiate with the hill tribes.  The Ram's-Head marches on our borders.  Our spies confirm it to be moving towards the City of Cliffs from the northwest with a sizeable army.  Many of us have been dispatched to quell and relocate the tribes.  It is our way to leave our homes and children only when we are called by immediate danger; many wonder if we should not have taken action sooner.

In accordance with the threat, Her Serenity Queen Lorelei shall take her royal contingent of Shield Knights to the frontlines, and there join an alliance of friendly tribal armies to attempt to hold the enemy at the border.  The natives shall lure them between cliffs of the Royal Pass, and then we shall descend on them from the rocks and tear them apart.

The Seventieth Day of Terras-

Your contingent arrived yesterday, oh Valiant King, so henceforth I shall supplement the messages from your servant, Lord-Scribe Derrok, Scholar of the Grey Marches, with the tidings of your Queen herself, and my own experiences.  My beloved king is most gracious to spare us these troops to help quell the vast number of outsiders.

Our Queen is mustering arms and moving her soldiers out to the City of Cliffs.  I, Mila, Lady-Scribe and Historian of the Realm, remain at the citadel, but my spear sits by my side in my study.  I have strength of memory and writing, but the curse of the cripple shall keep me from witnessing Our Lady's battle.

The Fifth Day of Ventras.  Avaer is King in Heaven, and Avlin his Queen.  May their blessings sustain us in this new season of icy wind.

Your Lady, our Queen returned this day, supported as she walked by the General Esmera, the She-Wolf.  She wore the split helm of the outlaw general instead of her own, and brought back many captives, who speak an unknown tongue.  The General herself attests that the Queen, bearing her fearsome pike on foot, challenged the Ram's-Head, demanding to know its name, allegiance, and purpose.  Its only answer was an unearthly roar from beneath its horned helm, and it charged her.  The duel outlasted most of the fighting- our tactic had succeeded.  The foe bore a great battle axe and swung with the force of thunder.  Her Serenity was swift and agile- she let the Ram's-Head bear down on her for a time, then moved under its guard to try to strike against the strange armor each time they met.  She was only struck once by a glancing blow, and spun away in a second of recoil, bringing her blade between the ram's horns.  The enemy fell, and the fearful helm rolled off.  The tribal warriors nearby drew back, fearing a curse, but Queen Lorelei was brave, and looked upon the face of her foe- in surprise:  Hardened and scarred by harsh winters and a hundred pounds of armor, blocky and chiseled was the face.  But it was most certainly that of a woman.

We do not know what we have faced.  Her Serenity has retired to her chambers and awaits your return, My King Arug, Lion under Heaven.  She has only spoken to me and the General, and said but this:

"I have seen all of us lying there."