I said I was going to write something too, and here 'tis if its not too late; To my dearest Lord Arithmos and esteemed members of the Privy Council of Haven I recently returned to Haven from an expedition to the mainland. Despite the tensions between the Imperial Army and the land known as the Kingdom of the Vale recently, it surely has not escaped anyone’s notice the volume of trade that continues to flow down the Red River Valley. This river of trade not only enriching our city but also yet a vital pillar of support as we recover from the travails following the piratical blockade of Bael’s isle last year. Many if not all of you will have also heard the news spreading out from the Vale of the stirrings of Orcs along their southern reaches. It was to this end that I travelled across the sound once more, to see for myself and if possible put an end to such a threat not only to the vale, not only to our prosperity, but also too for our own safety. An orcish horde would not a good neighbour make. It was thus in the company of some members of the Blue Sash that I departed our fair kidney bean. I know that the Blue Sash is of a less esteemed nature of late than it was even in the past, but they are still among the most active on the mainland, indeed they were already seeking to undertake this expedition before I even arrived at the behest of Valish woman by the name of Kroasi. And they paid for it, the Sashes, three associates of theirs perished on the mainland. Jon Heron, a man of valiant action if not vocabulary. Keaten, a quiet man possibly misunderstood. And Laila, a young woman possessed of a great though not sound mind. Which reminds me, the ferryman Eadric - it is perhaps common knowledge that he bets freely on the lives of those who brave the dangers of Maladon. On seeing our reduced company he behaved in the most appalling of manners, he surely must have gone mad with the thought of his winnings for his actions towards myself were so beastly I shall not describe them. Suffice to say they were compelling enough for myself and the good Dwarf Rurik to propel the man with some force into the waters of the sound. Should he drag his soggy sorry self back onto this island I will surely be pressing charges! That is enough of my digression, however. Once in the Vale a local huntsman knowledgeable of the country and surrounding lands gave us guide to the region most recently devastated by orcish raiders. South through a very strange forest the locals call the Dwerrowood and seem to feel equal parts respect and dread for is another series of vales and rivers one of which marks the official demarcation between the land within, and the land beyond, the authority of their Steward, this river flows south to settlement called Orengarth. The people in this between land may not have been of the Vale but it seems they are vassals of a sort, the Talidd extending his protection over them. Its upper valley however had been as devastated as advertised. We were shown a farmhouse, a family of nine had lived within and seven graves were dug in its shade before the remaining occupants had abandoned it, leaving slaughtered animals to the sun. Master Beldack I believe examined the ground for tracks and found a trail of prints and marks either to or from the fells north of our location, large prints and those of large wolf like animals that Kroasi said may be Worgs. To our east along another river valley the smoke of more ruins drifted and at my behest we made our journey in that direction, hoping to find survivors from whom we could learn more about the nature and numbers of these raiders. It was a somber ride through that purged countryside, particularly as the light of the day reddened with the afternoon and evening but as it rose to hilly woodlands it was sure enough we found signs of human activity, very recent ones at that, showing we were on the right trail for the local populace. Hot on their heels as they say, we followed until we arrived at a spot where all trace suddenly disappeared and our horses skittered from going forward. A location hidden under a powerful glamour that I was able to dismiss and we found within a large number of men and women, stained, dirty and exhausted from their flight. Some yet were able to hold their spears, but seeing we were not orcs they admitted us to their shelter for the night and a thorough interview was conducted to try and glean what information we could. It is not good news I must say. By the survivors’ account the orc’s warband consisted of just under fifty ‘persons’ and indeed they travelled with and upon gigantic wolf-like creatures. Apparently it is almost of unheard of orcs to operate together in such numbers, hating each other almost as much as they seem to hate civilised peoples. Yet here despite their numbers and nature they behaved in a frighteningly disciplined manner as they raided, more like they were intentionally attempting to devastate the countryside entirely than simply pillage for fun and profit. At the first sign of resistance too they would melt into the forests rather than give battle, leaving with only minor losses if any and them free to continue their destruction in the future. As indeed was our experience after being forced to retreat from a clever trap, the one that did for the companions I mentioned earlier. Traps and planning, another thing not noted among orcs. Our huntsman guide had mentioned that the orcs had issued out from an old dwarren ruin, that he suspects some thing within that place has now changed them, or enthralls them - I am unsure which is the worse thought. During our night at the veiled shelter, an old abandoned village built into a cavern system, Master Heron, may he find his peace, detected the foul stench of rotting meat being burnt. Given orcish appetites we thought it likely to be them and their cook fires so we were close, but did not fancy going out in the dark to meet them - resuming our rest until morning and thence venturing forth. In the light of day we resumed tracking the warbands and found their trail leading into a large cave mouth. After some moments of let us charitably say debate we got close and sent some of our number inside to scout and they were attacked by archers. They withdrew and we attempted to take up positions to meet their charge but none came and so our party decided to wander within. After venturing through a debris strewn passage with a low ceiling we emerged into a large chamber with a stream flowing through it, it was tall and we came under attack from archers above us. Master Heron went for a rope across from us while another was discovered at a lower ledge where two of the orcs had taken station. I say had for we were able to bring them down through magic and arrow. As we made our way up this second one however Master Heron tried to climb the first one we had spotted and it came away, for it was not a climbing rope but a trigger. A torrent of the most violent water I have ever seen erupted from out of the stream’s source. I was lucky enough to be able to grab the second rope and not be swept away, Master Heron, Miss Laila, Master Keaton and Rurik were not so lucky though and they were dashed against the rocks as they were carried with the torrent. There was nothing to salvage from our situation at that point so I withdrew with alacrity, as the the rest of our party. Outside I found Rurik breathing still, saved by his dwarven constitution, the others though it took long hours to find their remains, and in that time the Orcs had roused themselves and came after us. It was an arduous escape as we ran through the woods, carrying our companions bodies but we made it to the glamoured ruin. Beyond it the band stood confused by the illusion but not withdrawing, and we readied to make our death stand when a patrol of Valemen charged down the hill, taking the Orcs in the flank. Heartened we too charged out to have our vengeance but the rotten bastards broke away and flowed back up the hill to their lair. Whence I imagine they still yet dwell, though for how long I cannot say. If they truly are led or enthralled by some intelligence, it may not be long before they find some other hiding place from where they can continue to sow terror and grow their strength. Yours sincerly and faithfully, Lady Aurelia Donau, Sister of the Fellowship of the Rose Members of the party aside myself; Jon Heron, associate of the Company of the Blue Sash - Dead Keaten, associate of the Company of the Blue Sash - Dead Laila, associate of the Company of the Blue Sash - Dead Beldak, associate of the Company of the Blue Sash Rurik, associateof the Company of the Black and White Banner Kroasi, a visitor to Haven from the Vale
