Prince Wren, Runelord of Garten sniffed the crumbling debris and dust in his hand. Another hamlet lost. He grimaced. At this rate Garten wouldn’t have enough farmland to subsist, let alone maintain her military might.

“Prince Wren, the survivors are ready for your questioning.” A recruit rushed. “I am Colonel Carrington on the battlefield.” Wren hurried past the page as he nervously snapped to attention “Yes General!” We’ll see how long he survives. Wren thought darkly. The page was of noble lineage, he probably got this post through a favor given to his father, hoping to win favor with the royal family. Unluckily for him, Prince Wren’s battalion was the most active in Garten’s army, he would see battle soon, even if he was unprepared.

This town was lucky, there was a handful of survivors. Prince Wren’s dog soldiers had found them the collapsed ruins of a turnip cellar. they were covered in dust and dirt with quiet, graven faces of those who had witnessed a reaping. Wren calmly waited for one to speak.