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Thunderbluff

From the diaries of Queen Thessida of Thunderbluff.
Autumn 4th, 29th Year of Defiance
It's been almost 35 years since we had to flee our homeland, running from vicious forces of the cursed Moon. I still remmeber the night when they fell upon our city. Like a plague of wraiths coming unexpectedly from the depths of night, our erstwhile allies and trading partners embarked on a cursed crusade in the name of their new Midnight Prophet. I was merely a city guard captain then. I still remmeber the panic, the mad scramble to organise any kind of resistance. But there were too many of them. I managed to gather a group of guards, soldiers and civillians, and we fled the city. For days we followed the Sun's holy light, always on the move, every night fighting off scouts of the horde madly chasing after us. Many of us fell in combat, or stayed behidn to delay enemy forces just long enough so we can escape. Finally, after 5 years of this arduous journey, we caught a glimmer of hope. A rich, easily defensible verdant green plateau, located on the coast. We decided that this is where we'll make our final stand.
First few nights were hard. We were scrambling, setting up our camp and putting up ramshackle defences. Spreading Sun Torches throughout the plateu, to deny the Moon Soldiers easy access. But we persevered. Every day, more survivors joined us, streamign in. One night, few weeks after our arrival, I was standing atop a tower, gazing upon the magnificent vista of our new refuge. Homes under construction, farms newly sown with wheat, cows happily grazing on pastures, when a storm begun. Thunder shook the plateu, lighting split the skies. Rain watered our fields. And as I was standing there, a name for our city came to mind. Thunderbluff. For even amongst the fury of the elements and relentless assaults, we stood strong, shouting our defiance against the Moon while singing praises towards the Sun. Our voices could be heard over the surrounding landscape, thundering from the wooden walls and cliffs of our new city. We Survive. We Thrive. We Will Rebuild. And we did.
For 29 years now we've been standing strong. Midnight Prophet and his horde set up camps and towers on the coast, maintaining their relentless siege and attacks. Last night, almost a thousand of them streamed towards our home. They were rebuffed. Meanwhile, our forces are growing stronger by the week. Blacksmiths forge new weapons every day, drill yards are shaking with the sounds of feet thumping upon them, drilling and practicing combat. Soon, we will commence a counteroffensive. We will retake our lands inch by inch, and kill the cursed Prophet who turned friends into enemies and brought us so much suffering.
May the Sun hold us in its care.