A special report has just come in. Our boys of the south have just had one of their worst losses and on home soil. As bad as this is to say, we have been fairly evenly matched while on the open seas, but when it comes to the strength and valor on our home soil, we have never suffered the blow of defeat that was recently handed us by the North and by the enemies of the South that have been lying in wait.

It began as a Northern ship ran ashore near Cradleheim, a small fishing village a week’s journey west of Fyr’s Shadow. It didn’t take long before their brutish ways forced all those living within the town to succumb to the will of their leader. Rumors spread of the North setting the village up as an encampment of their own and when troops went to investigate the scene they found the village had been sacked and a meager fortress had been raised in its stead. With Jordon Thrush leading the invasion, it was sure to be a swift defeat as he has proven time and time again his ability on the battle field to out think and most surely outfight his opponent. Initial plans were made and, after setting our troops up in a tactically advantageous spot on the battlefield, the sounds of war were heard breaking the morning quiet. It was expected that as swiftly as the battle began, those whelps to the North would be found surrendering to the better foe but what one expects from time is the last thing that happens. And indeed this is one such time.

It appears that these sniveling cowards, hiding behind their makeshift barriers had sought out an alliance with the less civilized races of the realm. From the moment the horns sounded, the tides of battle did not fall in our favor. Out from the forest came pouring waves of Orcs blood hungry and savage. They sought to protect those in the encampment, or so it appeared. As the South rose up to match the charging band, they were swiftly pushed back. The leader of this band led the charge wearing nothing but what appeared to be a large bird’s feather as those who survived have stated. He swung through the chaos of battle like a well seasoned veteran tearing any who got near him limb from limb. Shouts of “You are not the strongest!” and “None are stronger than our tribe!” belted out above the clamoring of steel and stone bashing together. Right at the thick of it was Thrush beating back all who opposed him blow for blow but even he seemed taken aback by the leader of this clan.

“He just stood there,” says one of the survivors. “I’ve never seen him freeze on the field as he did that day when he saw the Orcs’ leader. I’ve seen the look on a man’s face before when shock ushers all the action away from you but I never thought I’d live to see the day it happened to him.” Indeed he goes on to recount the tale of Thrush meeting the Orcs’ leader on the field. A fierce battle at the heart of an already bloody surprise attack. “It’s like every blow Thrush landed bounded off leaving hardly a scratch. Before anyone could come to Thrush’s rescue, he was already thrown to the ground, the Half-Orc standing over him.” At this I had to question our witness who refused to give his name for it is not a common sight to see a Half-Orc with any standing in an Orc tribe much less at its helm but he did not budge on his description. “I was close enough to hear what he said at the end, I was close enough to know what I saw.”

Readers, what happened next causes mine own heart to forget its place in my chest and instead take up residence in my throat. When asked what was came next our witness says, “He leaned forward and laughed. Just laughed. Then he looked Thrush square in the face and said ‘I’ve taken down Chimera alone and rode with better men than you’ll ever hope to be.’ At that he plunged his axe through Thrush’s skull.”

It’s true readers. Thrush, the hero of the South, was brought home on the back of a cart. With great hope he was rushed to the most powerful priests in Fyr’s Shadow but after several failed attempts it was claimed his soul was lost to the Shadowfell a fate more apt these days than I’d care to recount but this is a story for another time. For now we mourn our loss. First Corporal Hammerbeard goes missing and when Jordon Thrush steps up in his place, he is felled by this beast of creature.

To lead the guard, the King has approached Artin Hammerbeard in hopes that he will put aside his business ventures and take his father’s reigns. For now the fate of this position is unsure but one that is sure is Orcs have been declared an enemy of the South. By decree of the High King Aethelhun Ryder all Orc or Half-Orc found walking these lands is considered traitor to the crown and will be brought in for questioning until the whereabouts of the Half-Orc who fought for the North is brought to justice.