Thursten scratches at the back of his head again, wincing, “There was a battle. Duke Lexin of So’ren prevailed upon the trade pact and Taal Fein responded. Your king’s men invaded So’ren around 5 days ago.” He squints a little at you, “Do you not know this? It seems that your kingdom is now embroiled in civil war, if not full-scale war with the fey races. This first battle was a rout; we number 80, and together with the So’ren town guard, we were 150 to their 1000. Though a ranger of Taal Fein is worth 5 of your king’s guards, the battle did not last long. We held against the regular soldiers, but all the valour in the feywild could not aid us against those blonde haired, blue eyed demons. And when their leader appeared, I would swear on the life of Merriwen Lissësúl herself that I saw battlefield dead rise to fight again.”
“When we were almost to our last I found this riderless horse, mounted it and fled that field of blood and death and undeath. The blonde knights chased me west for a while. Eventually I lost them, but then the blizzard hit. This blizzard, the likes of which I have never seen. I lost my bearings…embarrassing, I know, for a ranger. As I tried to double back, that is when the giant folk caught my scent. I thought to hide in the blizzard, but then the storm passed, rather inconveniently.”
“The invaders occupy So’ren now, but I dare say it will not be for long. Messages were dispatched to Jaedinfall, and Queen Merriwen will not tarry in sending the Lothvarian. The trade pacts mean much to our fair queen. Be assured that if your King’s dogs do not withdraw from So’ren before the Lothvarian arrive, there will be war between your people and mine."