The Dell, Western Wilds.

3rd of Samue, the month of Planting.

2139 years since the new gods came.

Watching knights attempt to plow fields is hilarious. The land outside the Dell if free of snow. The villages that the knights have been patrolling are doing well. The pregnant knight has been put on duty to operate the communications system. She hates it.

7th of Samune,

I have marked out almost 100 acres of land to plow and seed. Most of it is done already. Those knights do learn quickly. They also like to compete. Once they leave next month, it will be all I can do to maintain it. I guess some of it will end up as winter food plots for roving animals, like that herd of deer that hasn't left.

*-*-*

The demon Lands,

Late winter/Early spring.

Winter had mostly come to an end. The lack of roads impeded the army somewhat, but the worgs did a good job of making a trail for the horses to follow. He was feeling Happy.

Happy happy happy. Little soldier men are nice. Puppies are nice. My puppies are better. Kittens are all spiky, and don't like to cuddle. Pbth. He spat, then pranced around the worgs, giggling.

The soldiers gave him the side eye, but said nothing. They had seen the metal rod he carried send out a gout of sound and fire, dropping an enraged Wyvern from the sky with a mighty explosion. The horses had panicked. The worgs had just gone and retrieved the thing.

Bread bread bread. Can't wait for bread. Are pancakes bread? They serve pancakes. BACON!!!! Camping in a tent is fun. Camp camp camp. An RV would be fun. Rv rv rv...What is an RV? He dance for a while longer, then spun around too many times and fell over. He was asleep in moments. As the soldiers watched, a worg, not the one he rode, curled up around him.

They would be in the western grassland soon, and the silly singers had a map!

- - -

The bards and the 'Men of Repute' gathered in the command tent. They discussed the direction and distance to the target. The general in charge of the troops leaned back in her chair and spoke, “Ladies, gentlemen, we should arrive at our destination in two or three weeks time. I want our outriders, yes including the worgs, to step up their game a bit. Start scouting more than a mile from our lines. I don't want any surprises.”

*-*-*

The Dell, Western Wilds.

14th of Samune.

Brandywine says we have company coming. She 'smells it on the wind'. Sometimes she says that, and when you go so sniff the wind, all you smell is rancid fart. I only fell for that...twice.

16th of Samune,

There have been some animals fleeing east across the Dell the last couple of days. They have usually migrated already. I think something may be wrong.

17th of Samue,

The village of Grath, to the north east of here, has reported an influx of refugees from some island nation. They apparently are deathly afraid of house centipedes. They have some crazy stories.

Grath is trying to spread them out across the three villages, but also wants to send some here. I don't want to deal with this kinda shit. I just want to farm. I said yes.

18th of Samue,

Worgs have been spotted outside the Dell. I'm worried for the local wildlife. If they don't move on, we will have to deal with them.

*-*-*

“The scouts seem to have found our target. The worg riders reported today that they found a large valley with buildings and a group of knights.” The general was standing in her tent, and speaking to a group of officers and civilians. “We can make it there by noon tomorrow. Does anyone have questions?”

The insane man was standing in the back of the tent, looking around with narrowed eyes. For the first time, he wasn't being 'silly'. In fact, he didn't look like himself, either. He was clean and wearing what was obviously some sort of uniform, but instead of the normal bright colors, it was covered in earth tone splotches that made him nigh unto invisible on the plains. He carried his bang stick on a sling over his shoulder, and had a smaller one on the belt around his waste. A woven green harness crossed his chest, with fist sized metal balls hanging from it. He saluted, “General? What is our plan for first contact? Will we send a stealth recon group in first to explore? Or will we just march in as if we are expected?”

There was a stunned silence in the tent, then the general answered, “I believe that as soon as we get even remotely close, the Heretic will notice we are here and come out and greet us.” Gods rest our souls if he is angry about us coming “And I will be very surprised if he didn't already see the worg patrols.”

The sole worg at the meeting had her head sticking in through the tent flaps, made a growling chuffing noise. One of the civilians spoke up. “She says that a pixie saw them, but none of the humans did.”

“Pixie?!?” Several people almost shrieked.

A bark, whine and chuff filled conversation was had, then “Yes. A Pixie. Not a fairy, or a brownie, a Pixie. She says the pixie waived and smiled at her scouts.”

The general sighed, “Well, I will assume that means that it won't interfere. Much.”

The meeting broke up soon after.

*-*-*

19th of Samue,

Stupid. Gods cursed. Worthless. Ancestors be Damned. Coxswain buggered. Broken Anchored. Mizzen masted. Goddess loving. Flat chested. FAIRY. I'm going to hit her so hard with my cast iron frying pan! She stole my underwear! While I was wearing it! AND PUT IT ON TOP OF THE WINDMILL!!!!!!!

An army showed up today.