Myth@Bungie.Org

Monday August 25, Near Willow Creek

Finally, a break from this incessant marching. We have been on the move since first light, and the men are becoming weary from the difficult trek through these dense woods. Cruniac, our commander, insists we keep these pauses to a minimum if we are to reach the town of Willow Creek before midday.

It was only yesterday that we entered the town of Tallow seeking rest after a month spent patrolling the southern regions of the Wild River. But our respite was cut short when the mayor beseeched us to investigate reports of grave robbing around the villages just north of Forest Heart.

Cruniac, who seems to be more interested in political maneuvers than military ones, agreed to look into the matter. I am sure it will prove to be yet another unfounded rumor, no doubt caused by wild dogs searching for their evening meal in the newly turned earth of a graveyard. Alas, that is the life of a soldier these days, chasing hoodlums and thieves, and making sure the nobility get their due.

I have only a few moments before I must go. Columns of black smoke have been spotted rising above the woods between us and Willow Creek. Our commander is rallying the troops for the final leg of our morning journey.