Too all, i bid thee welcome and good day.
With the winds of chill and snow from the south, come the whispers of foreign feet. My bones tell of a small party of fighters travelling north, with intent, what intent they do not show.
My lord's and ladies, a call to arms. All fighters need to arm up as i foresee only a month or so before they are on our doorstep.
Time is short,
in honour and strengthRainer
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