The battle of Trinsic had raged for days, and now the city was held in the grip of Juo’nar and his undead legions. Having fought my for my life, I was bested by a lich upon the wall at the West Gate. The last thing I remember was that cruel laugh then darkness. Much to my surprise I awoke minutes later. It seems that my life was not taken but that I simply had been knocked unconscious. I slowly opened my eyes, only to realize that maybe death would have been kinder. Looming over my right side, was the Malabelle conversing with one of her lesser minions. “I now control this city. Trinsic is mine!”, she boasted. Terrified for my life I lay still as can be. As the last note of Malabelle’s proclamation to her underling rang in my head, a flash of light appeared on my left side. Slowly a form can into vision. A beautiful woman stood upon the walls. I eyed here a bit closer. She was dressed in a revealing black leather outfit with long raven colored locks flowing down here back. In her hand she held a black staff that pulsed with a blue energy that seem to scream evil. Her eyes were cold and black as she stared at Malabelle,

“Allow me to correct you my dear. I now control this city. Trinsic is mine.”, she said in a commanding tone that made Malabelle appear to flinch. “Yes milady Minax, the city belongs to you.”, she said and quickly vanished into thin air. Minax grinned and gave a small laugh before turning her attention upon the fighting in the street below. With out a word she raised her staff in the air and then it happened. I could not believe my eyes. I have been a warrior in this land for many years and never have I seen such power. I could feel the energy building around her as she slowly continued, wordlessly, to raise her staff. Lighting rained out of the sky striking all the warriors below. I was blinded by the display for brief moment. When my vision recovered I could see that not a single man or woman on the street below was alive. The zombies had already begun to ingest the newly dead. Minax smiled, as if this murder had given her joy, and the disappeared.

I dare say I thank the virtues that I still live to tell this tale. I believe it will be a long time before I return to Trinsic.

A massive army of the Undead, led by Juo'nar, came very close to capturing the city of Trinsic yesterday. However, an even larger army of Undead has been sighted and is expected to arrive there sometime today. Leaders and volunteer defenders alike think it unlikely that Trinsic will survive a renewed assault by the monstrous invaders.

Yesterday's assault, which ran throughout the day and into the nighttime hours, was finally stemmed by the last minute arrival of several hundred volunteer warriors. Juo'nar and his surviving forces retreated in good order towards the second army marching on the city.

The army struck repeatedly at the walls and at times appeared to have the upper hand at several of the city's gates. Only desperate fighting by the outnumbered citizens and volunteer defenders prevented the attackers from blockading the gates and trapping the them inside the city.

A confidential source inside Trinsic's ad-hoc military command said the mood was grim. "We're barely hanging on here," said the source. "The leaders know that. There's talk of cutting our losses and evacuating before this next, larger army arrives. No one believes we can go through that kind of assault a second time."

With no large body of Lord British's forces near enough to the city to reinforce it, it appears the city is doomed. Residents have been urged to flee.

It is also rumored that Lord British has commanded Court Mage Nystul to create a spell to re-route first time adventurers trying to gate to Trinsic to another city, in an attempt to save the lives of the fledgling warriors and mages.

As feared, the undead armies of Juo’nar together with the ratmen and gazers of Malabelle overwhelmed defenders and managed to seize control of Trinsic! Citizens of the City of Honor hath mostly all fled, leaving only a few resolute shopkeepers and small pockets of resistance. Word on the streets is that even the few remaining shopkeepers, bankers, and other merchants will be fleeing soon as well before the full brunt of Juo’nar’s army takes residence in Trinsic.

While few know what his plans are, Juo’nar and his forces seem to be slowly settling into their new quarters beginning with barricading the entrances to the city. Some trapped inside the city walls report overhearing bits of information hinting that even more undead will be joining Juo’nar in Trinsic, as well as much more powerful beings. As yet, we have no confirmation of these reports nor anything more specific.

Nystul, of Lord British’s court, hath used his wizardly powers to help offer an escape to those wishing to flee Trinsic. Send word to any trapped within the city walls to seek the moongate Nystul hath raised. This moongate will send ye to Britain. Nystul is able to block any of Juo’nar’s minions from entering the moongate. Should Juo’nar break through Nystul’s barrier on the moongate, Nystul will be forced to dispel the moongate until he can regain control.

Lord Dupre was not available for comment at press time, but those close to him say that this paladin of Trinsic hath vowed to drive Juo’nar from the city he calls home.

Keep thy eyes focused and ears tuned to the Britannia News Network broadcasts for more information!

I had walked to the Trinsic gates that night. As a young, well trained warrior, I felt prepared for anything the undead armies of Juo'nar could throw at us. No, of course, I wasn't alone. I might only be as yet an inexperienced warrior, but I'm only idiot enough to go to Trinsic... not to go alone. I could see my own nervousness echoed in the fidgeting of my comrades, but when any of our eyes met, we smiled bravely. Roland, the most experienced of us, took a deep breath and then began climbing over the barricade.

I moved to follow, when suddenly the silence of the night was blasted by a shrill roar. In the distance, I saw a flash of light, but it quickly disappeared. Roland by this time was on the other side of the barricade... alone. He turned and beckoned to us to follow, and then looked on in puzzlement as we began edging backwards. Despite the overriding desire to turn and flee, I somehow found control of my arm, lifted it and pointed behind Roland. And began to whimper. Roland, sensing the fear in my stance and manner, blinked his eyes and then turned around in one sudden movement. I stood terrified, afraid to move forward but somehow resisting the urge to run away in panic and leave my friend. All of our other companions had fled.

A large dark shape ducked down under the sandstone arch at the entrance of the town and bent down towards Roland. Puffs of flame escaped the sides of the dragon's mouth as it slid nearer to Roland... stopping barely a foot away from him. From just behind the massive beast, I heard soft laughter. Nothing menacing... almost inviting. From out of the shadow of the dragon strolled a woman. She was dressed in a revealing black leather outfit that contrasted harshly with her pale skin. The staff she carried shimmered a faint but resilient blue. She whipped her raven black hair playfully and then stroked the dragon's head between the two great piercing eyes that remained locked on Roland.

The woman turned to Roland and said, “Dost thou know who I am?” Roland didn't move a muscle or dare reply, though I did notice a puddle down by his feet that had not been there before. The woman noticed it as well and laughed harmoniously. “I supposed ye do.”

She glanced at me and then back at Roland. “I'd like the two of ye to do me a favor... thou would both be willing to do me a favor, wouldn’t ye?” she asked. I couldn't speak for Roland at this point, but I was certain that any attempt I made at a reply would result in total panic followed quickly by an abbreviated effort at escape and the kind of heat only freshly smithed swords ever know.

“Good,” she continued, not really expecting a reply, “I want ye to bring a message from me to everyone ye meet. Tell them the story of how we met. But more importantly, I want ye to tell them the fate of those who try to bring dragons, or any enslaved animal for that matter, into Minax's realm.” She closed with a dark chuckle that was spared the burden of any humor.

At that the dragon raised his head. Roland uttered a feeble cry and collapsed in a motionless heap. The dragon ignored Roland, lifted its head over the barricade, and spit something dark toward me. It landed with a crispy squish and lay before me on the ground twitching.

One of the former tamer's hands appeared to have merged with the scorched wood of what was probably once a very nice shepherd's crook. He convulsed on the ground. I could almost hear him screaming soundlessly when one eye fluttered open painfully and stared directly at me. He seemed to be begging for death. Minax watched him in amusement, then her deep, soulless eyes met mine and she said forebodingly, "Oh yes, he'll live on for quite some time yet in exquisite agony. Make sure not to leave out that delicious little detail when ye recount the deeds of this night.” She chuckled again, and I could feel any thoughts of manhood draining from my body and fleeing into the black sky.

“Farewell, my puppets, I'm sure we'll meet again.” And with that she and the dragon turned and left.

I sit in the bars of Britain each night retelling this tale. It's dark outside now. I order another ale and wait for the sun to arise. I recently vowed never again to set foot into a dark night. The only thing I fear more than that night is the thought that Minax would actually come after me for not doing so. The smell of leather fills my nostrils, and my ale slips from my hand as I begin to panic. I prepare to leap over the bar and hide beneath it when I notice that it is only a warrior wearing armor made of leather. Still shaking, I stand with my hands on the bar trying to slow my breathing back to normal. Then I go over to where the warrior is sitting and a surreal calm say, “I had walked to the Trinsic gates that night...”