Message One - The War Has Begun

To the one called Orpha, daughter of Talus in Balchion:

I pray that you, dear one, are safe.
War has begun here. All but a few of the Task have been completely massacred.
They drug them into the streets, spitting and cursing foreign words at them.
I, though skilled in words and tongues, hardly did understand their speech.
It was foul, as if their very souls lashed out at our brethren. And then, without warning, these demons ordered all of them on their knees.

I was certain, Orpha, that this was their end. But these monsters had not yet started with our people.

These pale creatures gurgled something atrocious, something horrible that sounded like...laughter, yet so very flawed and dishonorable that it made my skin crawl.
One produced a long rod-like object that gleamed in light of the moons.
I must confess, dear Orpha, that I was taken by the sheer beauty of the thing.
So smooth. So perfectly crafted. These foreigners had great power.
The rod was then pointed at Jaqui.
More horrible laughter.
The creature's hand moved toward a small lever on the rod and...
I cannot continue. The acts that I have witnessed today bear so unspeakable to my mind and my soul that I am unable to form any explanation of what has transpired.
Jaqui is dead, Orpha. They are all dead.
These Pale Ones are abominations. The city of Rona has fallen. I suppose, though, it is of no surprise. We have sworn off war. We have never had war. We know nothing of these "weapons" as the Pale one called that rod.

But there is a resistance mounting, dear Orpha, and I am leading it.
Do not buy the lies of the Pales, these "Expeditionaires" as their leaders call themselves.
They approached Rona peacefully. With smiles.
They gestured for an audience with the Magistrate.
They offered bright objects and volumes of books for new learning, Jaqui told me.
But when the mongrels heard us singing in the Chalengrad, they went mad.
The Magistrate tried to explain, even though either side could scarcely understand the other, but nevertheless the Expedition became enraged. Vowing to do away with "native song", a ban against song in our region now exists.

Life...without song? We simply cannot survive without song.

I must leave off now, for I hear rustling above our underground.
We managed to escape the Chalengrad safely, but a small troop of Pales followed us.
I fear this may be my last stand.
I have always loved you, Orpha, and I pray these will not be my last words.
But, in light of my bleak situation, the resistance is mounting on the Southern Sea, near Grave Mount. Head there with your family. I wish upon the stars and moons that I see you there soon.

We've always known that peace would not last forever.

With all that I am,
Orchus, Keeper of Song