I bring grave tidings Sir. Attacks continue on all sides. To the East, The Fountain Gate is all but overrun and will soon breach. News is worse out west. Adelaide Queen of Churches has turned, marching her army ten days and ten nights to attack, her numbers swelling each day with all the savages and Barbarions she passes joining her ranks. They say even God’s Angels are marching with her. The West Gate has fallen under their weight. It will be at most a day, before they are amongst us.
Raise the Royal Guard, have them escort Queen Melba to the Abbot’s Fort, there she will be safe. Be wary though, of those that dwell in the Colling Wood, loyal to none but their own, they will likely lash out as you pass. Surely this is the work of our cousins to the North, The Jealous City, for too long we have tolerated their spite. You say God’s Angels march with them? We will wake The St. Killer to our defence. Fear not but be prepared to die my brothers. We are all the sons of Melba. We are Melba born, for Melba we fight and for Melba we die.
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