Journal Entry of Horace Vandermyer, Army Surgeon in the year one thousand thirty.

March 3rd 1030

I continue to be sickened by what has befallen the pride of the royal army. With the king at our head we sallied forth two years ago to counter the rising influence of the Allerians within our domain, and make the criminals responsible for the death of the King’s family pay for their crimes. Those goals were noble, but the actions of the king, and as a consequence, the army, have been bloody beyond belief.

No longer content merely with sending the Allerians on their way, the king has decried that all of Allerian blood be put to the stake. He leads his troops from town to town, carrying inquisitors in his retinue to torment the villagers, who were already ravaged by the depredations of ill-set Allerian rule. The peasants here are a poor and starving lot, mistreated for the past decade while the kingdom has thought little of them, and now that their deliverance should be at hand they find themselves beset by the very ruler they once trusted. Fertile fields and valleys lay empty, for the peasants are too frightened to farm.

I fear the worse is yet to come. I have spoken with the royal surgeon, and he tells me the king’s depression over the death of his brother did not break until news of the sister arrived. The king flew into a rage such as none have seen, which has not quieted in more than two years.

May fate have mercy on us all. Little will be left of these fertile lands when we are gone.