A soldier's book of grudges

[Grendunor]

The journal and first-hand accounting of Rensari of house Burka'da
Claw of winter 1350DR borderlands.
This forced march is killing me. Three days with little sleep hiking through this mucky wasteland. Far from the civilised climate of my beloved Thay. It is little wonder these Rashemi are barbarians without shame. Their resistance to the glory of the red wizards is foolish but in a certain way admirable. The commander says we need to remain vigilant for their witches, The other men tell stories about soldiers who wake up in the middle of the night for a piss and are found weeks later hanging from a poplar tree. They are trying to spook me no doubt no savage witch can stand against the might of a Thayan soldier.

today was a fetching shitshow. The damn cowardly barbarians struck at twilight just as we were setting camp.
The commander took a spell to the chest and by Helm the blood, gushing from him in fel spurts. Jelthar one of the Reds assigned to our expeditionary force tore the woman apart with some massive disembodied hand. She must have been to focused on her weave as one of those reeking berserkers nearly cleaved her in two. Somehow I was there in front of the barbarian so close his stench made my lip curl and I could see the clumps of dirt and matting in that mop attached to his face. In the dying light, I could see the blood on the man's axe. My arms felt heavy and there was this strange heavy sensation in the pit of my gut. Before I knew what I was doing my arms were up a flash of darkened steel, my steel, my blade... buried deep in the barbarians collarbone. A sickening thump and one thought screaming in my head -SURVIVE-

I when I came too the moon was out in full, shining down upon the remains of our camp. One of the older soldiers told me we'd lost six in the assault and had eight wounded. With the commander dead our lead Red promoted her head bodyguard to the position. The lieutenant did not complain. It took nearly all night to clean the gore from my armour. Not like I could have slept anyway I suppose. The next morning the red had us build a pyre for the dead soldiers, the barbarians bodies were raised in undeath and sent against the nearby Rashemi settlement. The younger wizard asked why all the bodies were not raised. The lead reds response was commendable and cemented the loyalty of her command.
To the point, I remember it today. "Our dead fought for the glory of Thay, the purifying flame of Kossuth is the least they have earned with this service."

The new commander was harsh. We took many more casualties in the coming weeks but by the same token things could have been worse we slept on three-hour shifts and had double watch during nights. By the time we'd made it to the Narfell lands, we'd lost near a third of the force. The fridged swamp here was some of the worst travel I'd ever faced. A few of the men died from some fever shitting themselves into hollow shells of men. These men were raised as undead...
The men were starting to grumble now the land as not an enemy we could hit with our swords yet just as deadly as the local tribesmen attacks. In the weeks we'd been travelling the younger Red had been keeping an eye on me his personal retinue had lost a few during the raids a perfect chance for me to leverage more position and social standing. I could never be a full Thayan knight but I could do worse than to have the backing of a young Red. If he does well It might enable my family to buy the ancestral estate back. nobility doesn't mean much without land behind it after all.

These ruins are a death trap. Undead and strange monstrosities reeked havoc on our flank. We're down to only 16 men and our Red overseers. The atmosphere is harsh and the idea of pyres for the dead has been abandoned for the utility of undead to spring old traps and bolster our ranks. Lost old Salazar to a pendulum trap in the antechamber. Guess I won't have any of his old soldier stories to keep me up at night.

When we breached inner sanctum the wizards immediately began chanting spells and in a flash of light half, our undead fodder exploded in a chain reaction of fire bolts. The air seemed to crackle with magic and the man beside me fell dead as wood to the floor before I could blink. A large skeletal figure shrouded in unnatural light stood there chanting as half the force broke and ran back down the hall. The new commander charged the figure and was stopped in his tracks hanging there frozen like a shimmering statue. That voice in my head screamed again before I knew it I was beside the figure sword clashing against some invisible force.

I came too, the wizard hurriedly conversing with their guards. The commander and several other rank and file troopers were still alive along with a three other Knights. I must have groaned or something because the commander dragged me by the breastplate over to the group. My head hurt like hell and my legs were like lead bricks. Our lead Red said she was impressed I was alive... then the world went black again, popping back in blinding colour staring at a wall of bookcases and some kind of alchemy table. We'd teleported the sensation made me lose my lunch of trail rations on the floor much to the amusement of the commander.

I was dropped off at the barracks infirmary and spent the next few weeks in recovery before I received a visit from the younger Red. He gave me a sack full of gold and said from then on I was theirs to command. Looks like things are on the way up.