This is part 2 from Friday’s post
Since the fall of Fort Haddoch, we have been fighting a losing war. The land we acquired from out hard-fought conflict with the Normans are all but lost, as this ghost army and its cult of human followers snatch it from us. Only our capital city is completely safe, thanks to the tireless efforts of our fighting men.
It was a cold spring during the first year of the war. I was stationed at Gamling’s Hold. The southern fortification had seen little action, but we were taking no chances. Two thousand men—a pair battalions—were present, both at the garrison overlooking the falls and at the fort proper. Gamling’s Hold was positioned in a wide valley beside the Singing River, a major artery to the capital. If it fell, and with it the river, our country would be soon to follow.