The fires of Bucksferry raged fierce that night. The screams of women and children resonated throughout; their husbands and fathers donning what could barely be considered arms and armor. Flames wreathing throughout the humble, peaceful village as marauders, bandits, merciless men destroyed the homes of generations. The wheat fields burned, swaying in the night breeze like a orange sea of flame. Those who ran were cut down as they fled, and the survivors, if any, left with little warning, having to leave all their worldly possessions behind.
Hopefully word of this massacre reaches the ears of those who can act.