The Eighth of Firstmonth, 1107

Captain Ba-Rennel,

We must categorically deny your requests for additional manpower, magical aid, or increased funding. Having reviewed the reports submitted by your office and the office of Colonel Li-Angram, it is the position of the Council of War that the resources of the Diamond Isle would be best put to use fighting the Perfect Empire and its misguided allies, rather than chasing down rumors of a squad of Perfected war-wizards far from the front lines. The resources at your disposal should be more than sufficient to purge the lowlands of any Perfected agents or sympathizers who have penetrated the blockade and established operations on Misery Island. Further, those members of the aristocracy whose patriotic fervor and exploratory interest lead them to greet suggested magical excursions with amiability rather than contempt — I refer specifically to the Gold Leaf faction — have committed themselves elsewhere.

We hope you will come to your senses and stop chasing rainbows in the interior searching for this mythical Black Idome. The Council expects your successful report before the end of Eighthmonth.

Majordomo Ki-Alger the Undying


The Eleventh of Tenthmonth, 1107

Major Je-Gitame,

The Council of War extends it congratulations, and informs you of your new assignment: the pacification of the swamps of Misery Island and resumption of the region’s exportation of comestibles. While our control of the Island remains total, a small cadre of elite, cowardly Perfected agents have insinuated themselves among the natives and enacted a program of sabotage, acidifying portions of the swampland and severely hampering rice production. Before his assassination, your predecessor Capt. Ba-Rennel made considerable inroads in eliminating this threat; yours is largely a mop-up action. To aid you in your task, a Second Legion detachment of five centuries of troops will be added to the Misery Island garrison.

Majordomo Ki-Alger the Undying


The Second of Seventhmonth, 1109

Major Te-Lozno,

Pursuant to your wishes, the Council of War has approached the Baronet Strides Above Treetops, mojh magister, and requested its assistance regarding the Acid Swamps situation. Its Ladyship was reluctant to abandon its research at the Tower of Tongues, but agreed to accept responsibility for Misery Island and its inhabitants. Its Ladyship the Duke Strides Above Treetops, newly enerved of the Duchy of Misery Island, will be arriving in Port Misery before the end of Ninthmonth. It is the sincere hope of the Council that with its aid, the villainous Black Indome may be brought to justice, tried for high treason, and hung.

Majordomo Ki-Alger the Undying


The First of Firstmonth, 1113


As I feared, Indome is getting out of hand. He’s already blasted too much of the swamp to sustain Misery Island’s current population with his damn acid rain. I’ve warned him that we can’t subsist off captured Diamond supplies forever, but he’s willful. Ever since he slew the mojh aristo he’s refused to listen to reason. Either you pull him back to the Perfected Halls of Wisdom or else I swear I’m going to have to slit his throat.



Highlord Iselley Quick-hearted, greetings and honors to you,

I believe I have located a region suitable for settlement of the Red Heart Company after the war, where they may live without interference from the living. Misery Island is all but uninhabitable, and none of the aristocracy can be expected to want it, not after what happened to the mojh Te-Lozno brought in. I know that the problem of a large cadre of undead veterans (most of whom expect ennoblement after the war’s end) has been much on your mind of late, and offer this as assuagement.

Your humblest of servants,

Gerrad Thriceblessed, Defender of the Citadel of Rosepetals


The black fish swim and the black ferns grow
In the Acid Swamps of Misery.
O’er the bones of giants the sharp rivers flow
In the Acid Swamps of Misery.
Ol’ Indome he took that land
Took the Acid Swamps of Misery.
He used it up he spit it out.
Made the Acid Swamps of Misery.
The bitter rice will hardly grow
In the Acid Swamps of Misery.
Don’t need to feed the dead to build strong bones
In the Acid Swamps of Misery.

(The Acid Swamps of Misery, 13th century folk song)

SEE ALSO: the Citadel of Rosepetals, the Council of War


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