Field Report: The Highgreen

Captain Garret Fremont
Commander, Imperial Rail Authority construction unit 1

The Emperor has made his will clear – the pacification of the Highgreen mountain region northwest of Tarsis is of the utmost importance to the safety and prosperity of the Empire. All who work in these camps, driving home spikes and laying steel every day, understand the vital nature of their work, and all would give their lives willingly in service to the Emperor. Indeed, many have.

It is with great pain and profound distress that I must report, then, on the continued delays and losses we suffer at the hands of the savages. The local tribal men have plagued our efforts for the past three seasons and continue to take every opportunity to hamper the construction of the Great Northern Railway.

First, as this document will no doubt pass through several pairs of hands, many of those who are unfamiliar with the ongoing struggle here, I shall provide some background on the topography of the region.

The Highgreen officially encompasses the entire of three mountain ranges stretched along the northwestern coast from Cape Ios in the south to the tip of the Horn of Halfarim in the north. Beyond the rolling foothills that border the Ishigetta Plateau here in the central highlands lie some of the most treacherous terrain ever traversed by the Imperial Explorators. The forests grow thick about craggy ridges and jutting cliffs, and rock falls are common in most of the more navigable passes. Even in the foothills, peculiarly heavy undergrowth, difficult to clear, hampers construction and travel each spring.

On the far coast, the mountains tower above a narrow stretch of plains and sparse woodlands suitable for farming. We believe this region to be the homeland of these barbaric “Draiocht” who have set themselves against us. Though we are many miles from their supposed home, they have driven themselves across the harsh terrain to face us here, on the edge of Imperial lands.

I have submitted regular reports to the Rail Authority central office detailing the raids they frequently mount against us. Losses have been high. They lay in wait for days, blending perfectly with the forests while our patrols trudge through the hillsides. Then they strike with spears and swords, with flights of arrows from unseen switchbacks. Our troops are too thinly spread to defend the entire Northern Railway, and we often find ruined and twisted track and spikes pulled from the ground along the construction route.

They are utterly fearless. They shadow our patrols for miles, and then erupt around them in ferocious packs of painted warriors. They lead our cavalry on wild chases through the woodlands while their compatriots strike our work camps, slaughter the labor and make off with much-needed supplies. They melt back into the wilderness like ghosts, as if possessing some preternatural command over the forests.

Yesterday morning, the savages attacked the operations camp in broad daylight. They came down from the hills in waves during the morning shift change, their bodies clad only in wild furs and scraps of leather. They did not even unleash their archers; they simply crashed upon us in a wave of sword and screams. We killed many dozens, but lost many in return. Two of our three steam shovels are damaged beyond repair, and our medical tent is burned.

Know that I am forever a faithful servant of the Empire. I shall continue to command my men here, and they shall serve well, as they already have. I shall defend this operation to my death, as I have sworn.

But we desperately need more forces. My men are demoralized.

They are bleeding.

The arm of Tarsis can defeat the strength of any foe so long as the will is strong, but will is only the beginning! We need men! We need weapons and medicine! We need-


A steam whistle sounded, and the rumble and squeal of metal announced the arrival of the Tarsian supply train. The Captain looked at the wobbly strokes of his last sentence and gripped the pen tightly. Ink dribbled onto the page in tiny specks.

There were footsteps, and a young corporal poked his head through the canvas tent flap. “Sir, train inbound, with riders.”

Fremont set down his pen, stood, and picked up his tattered officer’s cap. Nodding to the corporal, he took a moment to brush the worst of the dirt from his tunic. The blood of a dead lieutenant still stained most of the front.

Captain Fremont emerged from his tent with an uncharacteristic heaviness. He looked across the dusty remains of the construction site as workmen and soldiers scrambled to unload the supply train – a black, steel boxy monstrosity that seemed to drive the newly-laid rails deep into the dirt. The young soldier stood nearby, his uniform scuffed and bloody, awaiting his captain’s orders.

“How do you defeat a fearless enemy, Corporal?” said Captain Fremont, looking at the unusual boxcars that now graced his camp. The young man blinked at him, then tried to stammer a response.

“You put the fear into him.” said a woman’s voice. Fremont turned and saw the voice’s owner approaching on horseback. Her face, framed by short locks of straight black hair, was youngish, but her bearing spoke of experience. She wore the long coat and silver epaulettes of an Exemplar. Captain Fremont and the corporal immediately saluted.

“You put the fear into him, and he will defeat himself.” she said, dismounting.

Captain Fremont’s back stiffened. Bloody, bruised, broken, or on his deathbed, he was still an officer of the Empire. “Madam Exemplar, you honor us with your presence,” he said. “We weren’t expecting a visit from such a high command. As you can see, we’re recovering from an attack.”

“Relax, Captain, I am well aware of your situation. I am Exemplar Helena Yves. And I will be taking temporary command of this position to oversee the deployment of your new forces.”

“Forces?” Fremont looked at the supply train. He saw crates and storage cars, but no troop carriers. Two of the workers near the front of the train opened the doors to one of the strange black compartments and the panels fell to the ground, forming a ramp. Something – something large – stepped out onto the gangway with a metal clank. It reached the ground and another lumbering form followed. And another.

Captain Fremont boggled at the monstrous armored things stepping down into his camp.

“I think you will find them very, very effective, Captain.”