Chapter 2 - Settling in

I take one last look around the shack I grew up in. Nostalgia sets in, as I realise there's no going back. I try to put to mind the placement of the bed, the curvature of the roof, the two supporting beams upon which we'd always hang our lantern. I focus my gaze on the fireplace, where my mother would spend most of her evenings cooking and listening to my stories. Soon, all I will have left of this will be what little I've written. I've sold my house to a newly wed couple who were eager to get out of their parents' grasp. Let's face it, with my lonely existence, my childhood home wouldn't have known lots of love or laughter for a long time. This way a new family can make their own stories. Write their own history. Create their own memories.

I took Mistress Delcrois' advice and used most of the money to buy a number of dresses fit for the court of a Count. Delcrois is kind of the head of staff of the manor household, as the Count remains unmarried. I technically work for the county, but she is helping me get settled in the manor and I greatly appreciate her efforts. I fear I will have to rely on her knowledge and advice for the next few months because I know little of nobility or the manners associated with them. All I know is how to write down what I observe. I suppose this one skill would allow me to pick up the intricacies of the courts and councils quicker, as I can reread interactions I've seen and perhaps notice things I did not at first glance. I partially lift my dress, which is slightly too long for me, and make my way to the door. I release a sad sigh as I close the door behind me.

The morning sky is full of white and the occasional grey clouds. The Count has sent one of his horses and a guard to accompany me on the way south to his manor. What belongings I decided to keep left with the carriage yesterday. The morning air is crisp and I realise I should have kept a cloak with me to stay warm. It is a full day's ride to the manor and I am invited for supper with the Count and some guests. My feelings towards the supper are ambivalent. On the one hand, it is an honour to be invited. On the other, I'd rather be alone for a while and let this big step sink in. “Ready te go, ma'am?” the guard's flat accent interrupts my thoughts. Embarrassment sets in as I realise I must've been standing here for a bit, not saying a word. “Yes, wouldn't want to be late for supper, now, would we?” I say as I struggle to get on the horse.

They always expect people to just know how to ride horses. Until today, the first time I sat on a horse was also my last. I was nine and father wanted to teach me how to ride, so he borrowed a horse off one of the farmers. Of course, that was a work horse and not used to being ridden. A few steps with me on its back and it went totally wild, having thrown me off only moments after I was seated. This one, however, should be used to being ridden. That doesn't help me one bit. It happens faster than I can even think. One moment I am trying to lift my leg over the horse, the other I am lying dazed on the floor. My back hurts and I lie stunned on the ground, shocked at the speed with which I've ended up here. I guess the guard has realised I'm not going to get up on my own accord. He has gotten off his horse and is helping me get up. “Put yer legs down one side o'th' hoarse. Canna split yer legs with a dress, now, can ye?” I realize I have been trying to swing one of my legs over to the other side of the horse, without any result. Well, except for me looking like a fool that is. “Of course, thank you.” I reply, slightly embarrassed. After helping me, the guard has gotten down on one knee next to the horse. “I'll help ye get op.” I feel like a princess as I use his leg to get up on the horse. I require the support of his hand to get stable on the horse and keep my legs on the side as he suggested. Once I'm seated, the guard gets on his and we're off to the manor.

The hours long trip is uneventful and we reach the manor in time for supper. I've never been this far from my home. The manor and the surrounding lands are beautiful. The rolling hills and setting sun give it a romantic feel, while the guards at the gate serve as a reminder of rougher times. I slide off my horse and I am escorted into the entrance hall, made entirely of different varieties of stone. In it are two sets of stairs leading to the same balcony, upon which I see two figures. I do not recognise the one on the right, but the person on the left is definitely the Count for whom I'll be working.

“Welcome!” The Count says. “Astrid, this is Duke Ivorax Romaria D'Acres. You will be joining him and me for supper tonight.” “It is an honour, your Grace.” I say to the Duke. “I'm certain it will be mine, ms.? Mrs.? Lady?” he replies, with a raised eyebrow at the last word. “It's – ehm – ms. Astrid van Mauve, your Grace.” “Very well, miss. Shall we have our meal?” he turns to the Count, who nods. They walk through one of the doors on the right, while I hurry up the stairs, almost tripping over my dress in an attempt to catch up to them.

I follow them into a dining hall slightly smaller than the entrance, made up for by the luxurious detail on the walls and ceiling. Supper is lavish and includes a variety of food that I normally don't see in an entire month. It is brought in by a number of servants and served with a bottle of red wine from a land I've never even heard of. Nirath, it says, and tastes like little leffits are massaging your tongue; relaxing, with little prickles of stimulation. The Duke speaks more than the Count and I combined. Both nobles seem to have some political motive for meeting. As always, I've brought my materials and let my quill move across my notebook almost subconsciously, eating and drinking mostly with my left hand. The few times they show interest in me, they are friendly and show genuine interest. I'm somewhat glad these interactions remain short. The long journey has tired me and I've not much of a head for small talk.

As I finish eating, the chatty pair turn their focus on me. I now realise they've been patiently waiting for me to satisfy my hunger, as they barely touched a thing on the table. “So, Astrid, may I call you that?” I nod to the Duke, slightly ashamed of having made them wait so long. “The Count has told me a bit about you, but I always like to get my information first hand. You're a scribe?” I nod again. “I am.” “More of a writer than a talker, aren't you? I noticed you were writing quite a bit during our meal. Had something that couldn't wait?” “Writing helps me focus when I'm tired.” I speak softly, the fatigue slowly taking a hold of even my tongue. “May I?” the Duke says, as he points at my notebook. “Some of it is quite private. Please start here.” I reply as I point to a passage that describes my entrance into the manor. While the Duke reads, the Count takes his chance “So, I trust your journey here went well?”

“It did, thank you. Your guard was very helpful and friendly.”

“Yes.” the Count says pensively. At this moment, the Duke looks back up from my notes. “Very interesting, Astrid. How long have you been doing this?”

“I started on my tenth birthday. That's nearly six years ago.”

“Hmm, if you and the Count keep doing what you're doing, you will be writing quite some important things in the future. I notice you're quite tired, I imagine you still need to get settled in your room.”

“I am. It has been an honour dining with you, Duke, Count. I wish you a pleasant evening.” I reply, slightly surprised at the suddenness with which I am dismissed. They wish me a good night and as I walk out the door, I hear the Duke ask softly “How can you trust one person with all your information?” To which the Count replies “She has no reason to betray me. We'll take it slow and see how she does.”

It takes me asking directions twice, but I find what will be my room for the foreseeable future. It is beautiful with an oak desk, chair, washing basin, and a luxurious bed. I see my chests have arrived, too. Once I've rested, I'm certain I will find myself at home here.

-End of Chapter 2-

Chapter 3 – Ambitions

It's just after supper in the early evening and I finally have some time to myself. I've been too busy since my arrival to write any of my personal experiences down on paper. I look around what I've come to call my room in the past few months. It's slightly smaller than my parents' shack, but the stone walls and oak wood furniture make it look more luxurious than anything I was used to before this. It's been three months, three weeks, and a day since I officially got taken on by Count Zultra Coshall as his 'keeper of records'. I don't believe they made the position especially for me, but it suits me like a shoe fits a rich man's foot. I know for sure that the position has remained unfilled for quite some time, judging by the state of the records and documents were in half a year ago.

It took me a week of exhausting work after my arrival to put some order in the Count's record keeping. It still isn't perfect, but it's functional now. The goings-on of the court took me much longer to adjust to. I'm not used to these strict rules when interacting with others, luckily Mistress Delcrois has proven a useful friend. There are so many titles, so many faces, so many duties, and so many matters that it is becoming difficult to remember it all. After a few weeks I realised keeping just one notebook wasn't enough. I now have a notebook that keeps track of all positions and members of the court, one that keeps track of important decisions, one for the Count's personal matters, the list goes on. I am glad he has given me full access to his library and allowed me to rearrange it. I enjoy the structure it has now, as I enjoy the structure of many a thing. I went over the levy and guard hierarchy the other week. My, how beautiful something meant for such violence can be. I wish it weren't necessary, but it protects the County and the Manor, and I accept that.

Life in the County Manor is full of little luxuries. My food no longer depends on how many people need my writing, as there's both steady work and salary and I basically eat with the Count's guests whenever it is appropriate. Although I haven't seen the Duke since my first day here, the Count does receive regular secretive letters from him. The manor itself is a beautiful building with more functions than I could imagine. There's a guard house, servant's quarters, and a kitchen larger than the shacks most of my friends back home lived in. I've made new friends with members of all levels of society here. There's a kitchen aide whom I really enjoy talking to. Madeleine is her name. She's interested in the guard that escorted me here on my first day, who goes by Jack. In an effort to help her, I've tried (and failed) to get him to show interest in her on three separate occasions. I am rather disappointed that my attempt at creating romance with real people isn't as easy as it is in my novels.

There's also a Coshall Baron, by the name of LowGin, who shows up at court once every two weeks or so. He's friendly, and open. He runs a paper mill and supplies most of my notebooks and other paper needs. The Count himself is a pleasant man and, despite being very busy with a great many things, seems to always make time for those who support him. I've had the pleasure of even giving him my opinion on a few matters. Although I'm not privy to his most secretive of meetings, it seems my presence in a great many councils gives me a unique perspective close to his own.

After nearly four months of writing for the Count, I am starting to realise that something is missing. My sixteenth birthday is in a few days, and I've gotten much of the records up to date. In short, my presence is required less for the foreseeable future. What I haven't done in these past few months is write my own stories and share what passion sprouted my love of writing in the first place with many more people. I now realise that, somehow, I miss the creativity of writing for myself and the odd jobs that came in from merchants and farmers. It provided a daily variety that I don't really have here.

So, I've a worked out idea of my own scribing shop on a piece of parchment I bought off the Baron and have asked for a short audience with the Count tomorrow to request a loan. I have my Keeper's salary to live off, so I just needed to make enough money to sustain the shop itself and repay that loan. The idea is to open up somewhere just outside of the County capital for low rents and help people to learn reading and writing whilst providing novels, contracts, and deeds for readers, merchants, and farmers. I feel very anxious just thinking about how he'll react. I'm hoping the Count will approve. He will see me in the morning, so I'm off to bed to be well-rested.

The audience went wonderful! Better than I could even have hoped. Once I'd presented my idea to the Count and requested the loan, he smiled and said that he'd wish me to aspire to greater things. He is interested in growing the Promise, the little hamlet to the north which has slowly grown into a large trading village. He offered a small trade building in the market Square of the booming village if, rather than a shop, I opened a society that would attract more skilled labour to it. He would, of course, still give me the loan to get started. Thus, now I'm officially establishing the first chapter of the Scribe Society of Elyria, with me as its Director!

I've already gone to take a look at the building the Count has given me. It is a beautiful wooden structure, newly built for what was originally a potion shop, which ran out of money and had to sell cheap to pay off their debts. It has three rooms in total. The biggest is the store front which I'm dividing with the counter to allow work to be done in one half and sales to be made in the other. Furthermore, there are two smaller back rooms, one of which will be used for storage, the other as my office. The building came with a bit of furniture including three cabinets, some tables, and two very comfortable chairs. I still need a few society members, as well as customers, but I'm certain they will come once everything is settled.

The past few days there's been some buzz in the courts. It seems that my own ambitions are mirrored by that of the Count. I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to write about it outside of my duties, but these are my private notebooks and I don't expect anyone to read them. From what I gather, the Count is gathering support to overthrow Duke Maritas. My guess is that this is why he's been corresponding with Duke Romaria-D'Acres.

A few days have passed since I started my own ambitions in the founding of the Scribe Society of Elyria. This second responsibility seems to be a source of confusion for a number of people and through it, I myself have become confused. I decided to have people address me differently depending on which service they required of me. When I'm working for the Society, I'm Director Astrid, and handle the education of all society members, as well as selling contracts to individuals and organising the production of a number of different writings. While I'm in the court, I'm Keeper van Mauve, taking minutes of all meetings and, upon request, producing contracts and deeds for the Count. I've used a number of my existing supplying contacts to set up the necessary supplies for the Society, and feel like I'm finally solely responsible for something.

Business is running very well and I have both regular customers as well as my first real society member: Madeleine! She doesn't come by often due to her duties at the manor, but she seems more than willing to learn when she is here. Word of the Society seems to be spreading, and I'm hoping to one day set up a chapter in every Kingdom in Elyria. But that is still for a distant future. For now, I must work with what I have to pay off my debts.

Speaking of debts: My birthday was yesterday and for it, the Count has offered to excuse me from repaying a quarter of my loan! An offer I happily accepted. In all, it was a lovely day, but what made it best was to see Madeleine as happy as she was. It seems Jack had a bit to drink and kissed her on the cheek, after which she ran straight to me to tell me. When she did, I was in the process of enjoying the cake she'd baked for me and almost spit it out. I'm glad I didn't, as it was too delicious to have to scrape off the floor.

-End of Chapter 3-

Your clumsyness gave me a connection to your char, as if i was her. The shame of dropping to the floor and everyone seeing (your butt). And then: 'endlessly silent second'. The tension those three words alone create is insane.

You write well, keep it up!

Awesomely written!

Awesome read. Missing some Hjalmar ;)

Thanks, guys :) Lots of Zygethian support, as can be expected. I'd like to know what other members of the community think, too! Constructive criticism is welcome.

Chapter 2 is being worked on and will hopefully be out later this week.

Chapter 2 is now up!

Great read!

Chapter 3 is up and ready to read!

Chapter 4 – Birds and Butterflies

I cannot sleep at all tonight. My mind is racing about a thousand things. I'm sitting here at my desk looking into the mirror in front of me. It's a present I got off Baron Oliver Coshall for my birthday a few months back. I don't really know him that well, but he always seems to be in a good mood which spreads to everyone around him. I guess that's what happens when your cousin becomes count and makes you one of his trusted barons.

Although not fit for a noblewoman, it's a lovely mirror and I've used it much since I've received it. It took me a while to get used to looking at myself. Other than in still water, I've never seen my reflection this clearly. My nose is smaller than I would have thought and I have my mother's chin: slightly pointed, but with a round finish. My hair has improved a lot in the past few months too. Rather than having to ask Madeleine to help me, I can now easily take care of it myself in the mornings. It's long and light brown and looks more or less as I expected it to be. What intrigued me most were my own eyes. I've never enjoyed looking other people in the eye and doing it to myself required some courage at first. They're dark brown, nearly black and at times play into my fear that looking into a person's eyes means seeing that person's soul. Of course, my own eyes know my own soul while others' only know theirs. It still makes me anxious thinking I could lay bare so much of myself with a single regard.

It's been three months since I set up the Scribe Society of Elyria and business is still going well. I'm now responsible for quite a few members and have to oversee so many sales that I've had to hire a full time secretary to help me in my efforts and manage business while I'm busy with other duties. At first, I wanted to ask Madeleine, but she seems to enjoy her work in the kitchens too much. Thus, it became Jeanne, the wife of one of the town council members. She can have a bit of a dominant personality at times, which might be useful to counteract my own.

We've had to come up with an accounting and payment system as well. This required quite some thinking and writing back and forth with a baron called Truthspaper (how very appropriate!) who is extremely experienced in this type of organisation, but too far away to help me in person. I got his address from a mutual acquaintance of the Count and wrote to him for advice. After some discussion, I've decided to follow his advice; members will be paid a percentage comparable to their skill of writing, and a percentage of the profits of privately ordered documents they've worked on. This way members are encouraged to ever improve themselves and increase their knowledge, while also remaining motivated to continue writing.

That's not what is keeping me up, however. For that I'll have to start at the beginning: This morning, as part of his campaign to stay in contact with all levels of his county, the Count invited a number of Guild leaders to the first hunt of spring. I, being Director of the Scribe Society, was invited. I decided to join despite not being very fond of hunting. In fact, I think it rather cruel, but I thought there might be a potential business opportunity in it for me, having so many guild leaders in one place.

The skies were blue, with not a single cloud in sight, the sun's warmth embracing my skin after the cold of winter. Since there were quite a number of us, we split up into a few smaller groups for the day and set off in different directions. In my group were those who lead the guilds of crossed out writing. It's so unlike me not to write things down for an entire day. I've completely forgotten who they were or what their guilds were called. They don't really matter, though. I only spoke with one person. He introduced himself as Kenneth DeWynter. He is a bit older than I and much better looking. His eyes were the light brown colour of the desk I'm writing this on, or the wood of the bows he seems so familiar with. He was brought on the hunt for his archery skills, he told me. I could tell from his muscular arms he had been practising archery for a long time. The golden ring with an engraved sapphire on his finger seemed very out of place against his otherwise rugged appearance. He wore a hood that hid most of his handsome face and seemed to know his way around the woods better than a deer.

I felt naturally drawn to him, and we got to talking almost immediately after we set off eastwards into the manor forests. Early on I confessed I didn't like hunting and had never held a bow in my life. He then valiantly took it upon himself to teach me archery every time we dismounted. He held my arm and came in close as I took the sideways stance he'd shown me. Shivers went down my spine every time I felt his breath on my hair as he quietly spoke to me of the techniques I hope I would never have to use on another living being. While riding, we conversed. Always quietly as per his instruction not to chase off any game. This meant we had to ride closer than we normally would, which I didn't mind one bit. The forests were peaceful and quiet, aside from a few chirping birds. Our companions were occupied with their own business, allowing Kenneth and I to get to know each other better. The breeze on the air and his presence made for such an enjoyable ride that I completely forgot to write in my notebook. It's why I can't for the life of me remember the names of our companions, or which guilds they represented. Strangely, I can still describe the shape of his nose, each hair in his beard, and the line of his jaw in more detail than I will bore you with.

I am not sure if he did so for my comfort or it was due to my distraction, but I'm glad to say Kenneth never did find an animal to kill. We rode for quite a bit longer than we were originally planning to, lost in conversation and each others' eyes. It wasn't until one of the others said we'd better turn around that we realised just how far we'd gotten. We rushed back towards the setting sun, making it a game of who could get to the manor fastest. I lost, as I'm still not very good at riding. Honestly, I'm just glad I didn't fall off my horse once the entire day. That would have been more embarrassing than I could have survived. In the end we all made it back to the manor in time for sundown and the following supper that served the game killed today. Upon arrival I'd gone to my room to get out of my riding gear to be dressed more appropriately and when I returned to the dining hall I realized that Kenneth had not yet arrived.

Supper was glorious, as is to be expected of the first hunt of spring. Two of the other groups caught a pair of boars, a third some smaller game, which was all served lavishly with roasted vegetables and in pies, quiches, and other pastry. I did not enjoy it as much as I should have. My appetite eluded me. I was distracted throughout the dinner, looking anxiously at the door in expectation of Kenneth walking through. He never did. Maybe, as he was not a guild leader his invitation was extended only as far as his usefulness to the Count. I guess he got his pay and made off. Whatever the reason for his absence, I do not think I was much for conversation tonight because of it. Tomorrow, I will tell those who spoke to me that I was tired after the ride, so they will not feel turned down for my absent-mindedness of this evening. I very much regret the fact I could not wish him a proper goodbye.

Is this what Madeleine felt like until my birthday?

After supper I quietly went to my room and tried to go to sleep. I couldn't. My mind was racing about a thousand things. I slowly got out of bed, grabbed my quill and sat down at my desk. For a few short moments, I looked at myself in the mirror before grabbing my quill and dipping it in ink. The quill hovering above the paper until my mind took control of my hand and made it move on its own. Now that today is all written down, I can go back to bed and hope for a clearer tomorrow.

-End of Chapter 4-

Due to recent events, the progress of the story had a bit of a hiccough. Luckily, I seem to have solved the issues and will be continuing. I'd like to remind people that I've had to change much of the following chapters such that they provide a persistent story line. The player characters presented therein are an important part of the story, but their words and actions are not those chosen by the players themselves. In particular, the following chapters will mention Zultra, Ivorax, Arthos, and possibly others in situations they've never been in. Please regard this as fiction only, not as a judgement of their character.

I've also changed all mentions of Jarl to Duke, to be more in line with what is known of CoE.

Chapter 5 – Expansions

I can't find Kenneth. I've spent the past weeks asking around, but he seems to have vanished completely. I don't have a lot of time to look for him, as my presence at court is required more and more. The Count has gathered quite the professional army around the manor. There are tents everywhere, soldiers walking around, and the sounds of swords clashing as they train. The Count has started his move to take over the Duchy of Heritton from Duke Maritas. Duke Romaria-D'acres has pledged his support and is moving another army in from the borders. The King of Zyganthia himself has spoken out against the fighting, not wishing another civil war. I don't think it can be prevented any more.

Allow me a short summary of the events leading up to this. Years ago, Zultra Coshall was an ordinary man, from Theinsborough, a town about a day's ride from here. After the previous Count did some things that the population of that town didn't like, he rallied the men and revolted. More towns joined their cause and they became successful in overthrowing the Count, making Zultra the new Count in the process. Now it seems he plans to do the same with the Duke. He's gathered the support of several Counts within the Duchy as well as Duke Ivorax Romaria-D'Acres who seemed all too willing to have an allied Duke as a neighbour. Many of the soldiers here are ordinary men and women. They joined because they believe in Count Zultra's cause. As do I, although the prospect of violence is not much for me. I am sure the same could be achieved with the right political manoeuvres. Duke Maritas is definitely not the most law-abiding himself and with the public and noble support he currently has, Count Zultra could easily persuade the King to name him Duke in Maritas' stead. Instead, they've opted for an internal war.

I am constantly sending out letters for the Count to powerful people, asking for support in the upcoming war. I feel as if I'm losing my sense of what is truly polite and what is merely formality hiding more dangerous sentiment. This morning, we received a letter from Count Berings from the north-east, saying he fully supports our cause, but is unable to send troops at this time. I don't know any more whether this is true, or if he's biding his time to side with whomever gains the upper hand in the first stages of the war to come. I fear it is the latter.

Madeleine has been crying the whole day. Jack volunteered for the scouting and ranging section of his battalion earlier this week and they will not see each other for a long time. She is devastated and every time we speak, I feel more and more hopeless. There is nothing I can do to help her at this point, besides my job. Even that is difficult. The Count has asked me to keep track of how many soldiers are in each section. I can see their numbers rise with every wave of recruits, and fall with every skirmish. I don't know how long I can do this. There is a lot of pressure on accuracy and communication, while we must be constantly weary of spies.

Just last week, while updating my records in the library, I went to the war council's chambers to request of them the newest information. When I returned to the library, it seemed as though some books had moved and my records were open on a different page than I'd left them. I rushed to warn the nearest guards, but it was too late. Whomever looked through the notes was long gone, what information they obtained unknowable. I have resigned myself to the fact that whatever has happened cannot be changed any more. It is fatiguing to worry about these matters. All that can be done is to take measures to avoid the same from happening in the future. Such we did. Guards throughout the manor, always in pairs from different sections. The atmosphere is tense to put it lightly. People are no longer only anxious of what will happen on the battlefields, they're now also distrustful of everyone around them. A place that was once a safe haven and symbol of security for myself and many others, the manor has turned into a hostile emotional battleground itself rife with intrigue, words with hidden meanings, and suspicious looks of the eye.

Besides spies trying to gain information, there's also a vocal group of supporters who ask for more transparency as to what's going on and what decisions are being made. It is difficult to balance this with counter-espionage and so far the Count has not really addressed it. I've said that the only person I will hand the documents to is the Count himself and that he can then decide how to distribute his information. It appears he's taken the decision not to distribute anything. I assume out of fears of the documents falling in the wrong hands. This means that Counts such as Arthos Romaria – a nephew to Duke Ivorax – who were always vocal about needing a better flow of information have their requests ignored. This is creating quite some tension and division amongst the war effort.

The effort itself is starting to be called 'Zygethia'. I believe it started as people poking fun at the Kingdom's name of Zyganthia, but our people have taken the name to their own and it seems they wish to rename our Duchy of Herriton to Zygethia. I fear this name change will be used as an excuse for the King's Royal army to come in and attempt to stop us. We would not survive a war with the royal army. I'm confident we can defeat Duke Maritas, though. He has very little popular support and his years of suppression and elevated taxes within the Duchy have not made him many friends.

I was interrupted. Scouts came in with some vital reports and Zultra requested my immediate presence. The skrimishing is coming closer and the army will be moving out at the break of dawn, hoping to have the first large battle tomorrow afternoon. The site of the battlefield seems to have been chosen and I'll have to accompany Zultra as he rides out to observe our volunteer army's first open battle. The previous skirmishes and smaller clashes are nothing compared to what this will bring. I only wish that there will be a way to prevent the bloodshed. The Count says he has full confidence in our generals. Their ability is not what worries me.

It is over. Yesterday is as a dream. A nightmare. A hell. Yet, a victory. It was early afternoon and the sun shone hot on the thousands of helmets of the two armies of soldiers facing each other. The count had chosen a hill in the rear from which to observe the battle, his commander at his side, and there was a constant coming and going of runners for the last unit orders. A horn and drum sounded and the Zygethian soldiers marched forward in unison. It was hauntingly impressive, given that many of these soldiers were just farmers only a few short weeks ago. Duke Maritas' army consisted mostly of mercenaries and professionals. Although lesser in number, every one knew they were more experienced than we were.

As the armies clashed, the war cries turned into wails of pain and screams of horror. I could not make out any details, but the shield walls turned visibly darker with mud and blood as the battle went on. Our side had the advantage of numbers. By the end we'd enveloped them on both flanks, leaving only one way out, which was being showered by arrows from our archers. This final slaughter was short, as the enemy had started routing. Most casualties fell during their flight from the battlefield, leaving a trail of wounded and dying soldiers behind them. There are rumours Duke Maritas himself is amongst the wounded, but no one has confirmed this. From what I've seen, I wouldn't wish it upon him. Death seems a more merciful end than life with a battle wound.

It is over. I have to keep telling myself. The cries still ring through my ears, but the battle is won. Outside, the wounded are being treated, their sound different than that which heard on the battlefield, their pain no longer fresh. Tomorrow I will have to note the casualties from each section. As if witnessing their pain wasn't enough, I'll make these poor souls a number in one of our endless lists. Will it end? Was this battle enough? It is for me.