We were supposed to welcome the messenger two nights ago, but he's not arrive yet.
Are we still taking bets on the decree he's got for us? I'm guessing it's instructions on punishing delinquents. Perhaps the exact measurements of what diameter the sharpened sticks used for prodding prisoners ought to have.
Well, we might never find out. I've got this feeling that the harsh winds of the summits were too much for what I imagine to be a scrawny little courier. Maybe the lads from the mainland just don't have it in them. They're way too captured by Lord Vorgoth, that 'ol lunatic, to prepare for any danger or hardship beyond the "Ancient Enemy"... There's some crooked nails even our royal scourge can't hammer into shape.
