...battle flags blocked a cold and empty sky,
where slopes and valleys were worn smooth by the tramp of armies.
Sorrow's source is a huge as South Mountain,
a formless, whirling chaos that the hand cannot grasp.
Weeping in wilderness, how many families hear of attack and battle,
Barbarian songs in several places rise
My brothers are spread all throughout the land,
No home to ask if they are living or dead.
The letters we send always go astray,
And still the fighting does not cease.
The whore empire is a military camp;
Beacon fires have spread to each ridge and peak.
Corpses in piles foul fields and woods,
Blood reddens streams and plains.
Best of luck! I'm excited to see this map in play.
--Andy