"It is the year of long fire. Our company has been campaigning in the Cursed Marsh against Jhang Moon Warriors from the west. The Masters have fled, all but a few, and our supplies are running out.

Rumour has spread that the baratan sub-men struck a great blow against the Confederacy. I do not know if this is true. It is not a Warrior's Purpose to know the politics of his Master. But it concerns me. Our troops will be in great peril if we cannot retreat to the Mother Home.

Things are very strange these days... The forbidden things seem ever present. More unpredictable things happen each day."

"It is the year of the colored skies. Our company has been joined by two others from the Cursed Marsh Campaign. Though they had different masters, we have need of working together. There is very little food here. Zaboldus our Rahastran Change-Guide has been teaching us more of the local plants and animals. I do not know how he knows this information, but Change-Guides have always been like this. And we need to know, if we are to decide on how to keep ourselves fed. We have heard reports from the Jhang-Moon Warriors of a great Horror stalking the deep marshes. We will not go there."

"It is the year of the dusty summer. We are over two-hundred warriors now. And there are several other companies who have joined together in the forests to the north. The war is definitely over. Though our masters set us to the task of driving the Jhang-Moon Warriors out of the Eastern Marsh, we have had to abandon that goal. There is just too much marsh to cover, and too few of us. Too few of the Jhang-Moon Warriors too. I am uncomfortable with this. To give up our Master's commands is unheard of. But there is little else we can do. We must survive to be able to fight again. I wonder what we are to do?

Some of the other companies have learned great skills from Jaka irregulars. They have taught us as a courtesy. As we have taught them the edible plants Zaboldus taught us. Survival looks possible now."

"What do you do when you have no Masters and no one to tell you what the next Campaign is?"

"In the beginning, before the weave, there was life, but no Thrall. Out of the mind of the Elder People, came We. Thrall. But as the weave was born of two, and born again, the same but anew, Thrall grew. The Weave-Tellers stroke the strands, the War Blooded birth the cords, the [Killers of Deeds] cleave the bonds.

Now, as the weave has grown, and sojourn made the cloth many, the gold for Blood renews the pattern. Until the pattern ends. Thrall and death. Intertwined. Hold to your place in the Weave."

The Weave is Spun.

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