Galindon was just a mess whenever we reached it. I have a somewhat clear image of what the city had appeared like before the Dravik siege, before they decimated it. The cobblestone streets, sometimes covered in peasant waste, the grouped buildings that appeared rather beautiful with their stone exterior and the lumber and the heavy vines that stretched across. The children at play and people at work of their livelihoods. That spectacular blue-green of the river that ran down the center of the Valin District, the lavender fields to the west, the wheat fields to the north-west, the towers and walls that safeguarded and repelled attacks on the city, and the sweet smells of passing travel. Galindon was a grand sight to see, but now all that is left is muddied ash and the stench of the rot of flesh and agony.

Our company was to support our troops that were defending the city. It was a three day march from Grotterhiem to Galindon, so it was some time before we reached the city. On the way,  we passed through the Barton Woods and the small mountain ranges of Tolrikstein. It proved difficult at first, until we reached the outer tundra near Galindon, because much of the land we traveled through to get to Galindon was treacherous with deserters of the war, highwaymen, bandits, and the environment itself. We were just coming over the Several Peaks of Jaldin where we saw these enormous clouds of thick smoke rising over the tundra. We feared the worst had come, and as we went over the mountain, our fears were indeed confirmed.

The city, Galindon, was lost. The Darviks knew this city meant a lot to the Tresian people, so they burned it to the ground. The entire area the city rested upon was all but ash when we got there. We entered through the main gate to the north, where the path was laid with our and their dead, old siege equipment, and rubble. The metal of the gate was molten and obviously blasted. The twin towers on either side of the gate were decimated. We entered through the gates to an ashen waste where nothing could live. Our vision was clouded with heavy smoke and bits of fire floating by. We marched through what we can assume were the streets buried under the carnage. . There was a strong scent of the smoke around us like copper and sulfur. There was no sign of survivors, and we couldn’t find any civilians, alive or dead.

We began in the Nuvenkrig district, once a lavish area, then the Balgig district, known for its guilds, the Tovar district, known for a substantial amount of smuggling, and so on.  The river I mentioned before, the one that ran through the Valin district, was brown and black and filled with debris. No one was ever discovered. I was horrified about everything that likely occurred during the time of the Darvik siege. Even after the war, no one knew what happened to the inhabitants, and even the Darviks apparently did not  know. They seemingly disappeared. Come to think of it, the only people we saw were the militia who came whenever they saw the smoke. Our forces that protected the city had abandoned Galindon, which came to me as a surprise. We had secured the city for so long and our men openly gave it up?

It was outrageous to hear this, as it made us think how cowardly the commanders would have been to surrender the city. That thought was others as well. This was one of the main reasons why many of fellow Tresian soldiers began to mutiny our captains and commanders in during the event of The Night of Traitors. Overall, what had happened at Galindon reminds me of a quote from a Lord Veluo de Kuzen, during the Dominance War, which I quote “Men of righteous virtue would not abandon their post to an enemy who would strike them down. May it be the simpleton or the bold, they in war will serve their honorable duty. If such must not, they, unrealizing, let their comrades die in vain, bringing ruin to families and the empire”, end quote.