Snow White Hills Blood Bowl Chronicles

Ever since the patrol heading south to the Ostfort was ambushed, things have gone from bad to worse. It is those abominations, those beasts that walk as men. Those who made it back from the patrol were few. We have tried several more sorties, two by roadway and one in which the brave souls attempted to throw off the forest devils by heading along little-known game paths. All met with failure, and none have made it through to tell of our plight. We know this from the gruesome trophies left on poles along the roads. The Ostfort is but a 4-day journey, but we have no volunteers. We are surrounded and down 32 soldiers. Captain Strasse has called up the militia, and even as I write this, I can hear them drilling. Many of the settlers have been slain, but more still have moved back to town with there belongings in carts. They all fear to take the roads out of Nordsteim. The days are filled with work. Trees have been felled, watch posts built, and rough palisade has gone around the entrance to town. All of this is happening at a time when so many should be harvesting the autumn crop before winter. And yet I must report that the days are better than the nights. The foret never seemed so dark and foreboding. Watchfires at all the road entrances burn until the sun rises. Even with the shutters closed and barred, the night is full of sounds. We all sleep uneasily.: — from the Journal of Bürgermeister Nusbaum
Year 6. Day 36