The war continues...
Enemies pour down from the Northern Cragthorns, many drawn by the energies of the strange emerald crystals throughout our lands, some by nothing more than bloodlust. We've met them on the field more than once - great battles often with our allies from Brighthaven and Keeper's Pass at our side - but more often than not they steal through the Southern Echowood in the cover of night. Already, we've evacuated our civilians from our forward base at Hammerfall to the mountain stronghold of Keeper's Pass.
We cannot know what the future holds, but not all have abandoned diplomacy. Time will tell if our words are wind falling on deaf ears, or still have some power to move such hardened hearts. For the moment, we bide our time. The futility of our counterattacks is clear - even on the doorstep of the citadel itself we could not bring them to the field of battle for a reckoning. We have grown weary of answering their raids with forays into their own lands - our victories there are hollow and have not served to deter them. Ravens have flown, but none have returned, and so we wait.
But not all is bleak.
Our reach extends west to Highwater, where the watchfires of Riverbank - thought abandoned - kindle and grow bright. To the north, our scouts patrol the forests north of the ruins of Blackwatch. And to the east, the Echo Plains remain at peace.
Within our lands, we are seldom in danger. In a short time, our woodsmen took to the forests to gather the yew much prized by our friends in the north. The roads have been free of highwaymen as our merchants and traders set out with laden caravans and return with great quantities of coal to keep the forges burning.
Scouts report sightings of Ogres far to the south, and bring back tales of Ogg the Undying. Perhaps when next I find the time to put pen to paper, I will be able to tell if that appellation is truly warranted.
Steward of The Seventh Veil
Scribe of Phaeros