Sunday December 7, Seven Gates

The Watcher drove his army without rest through the fleeing remnants of Rabican's forces and into Seven Gates. We are there now, inside the pass, where he then clashed with The Deceiver on his way east. The bodies of the undead are everywhere, melted and broken. It seems inconceivable that anything could have survived.

I don't know why he attacked The Deceiver, unless somehow he found out what was going on in Silvermines. One of the veterans said that these two had it out after the battle for Tyr, twelve years ago, and that the Watcher barely survived. I have a feeling the real reasons for what happened today go back even farther than that.

Whatever the case, while the battle raged only a few miles away and we thought the Watcher was coming for us next, I was glad nobody had asked me to carry his damned arm.

It looks like the volcano will keep Seven Gates open through the winter, so Maeldun is sending out patrols to retake the pass. The Legion's growing fame seems to draw danger like a bright candle attracts moths, and if any of the enemy survived the floods and fighting I'm sure we'll be the ones to find them.

So ends the seventeenth year of the war.