The Eve of a Battle

Dusk has fallen upon our vast encampment, and upon the weary men inhabiting it.

After traveling the day through, we have set up camp, forty leagues from Kordana's capital and the war that strives there.

We are a safe distance from harm, and as a mandatory precaution have sentries continually at their vigil for any threat, at all entrances of the camp.

It is almost an irony to find my tent dwelling comfortable and homelike; With rich rugs from Pasarz covering the dirt floor, and a table, and chairs with varieties of pillows and blankets, all for my pleasure, I could easily call it pleasant.

And yet it is an irony because despite its appearance it is so far from home, and these times perilous, that no security is assured to one here that could be otherwise guaranteed.

If I seem a little anxious it is all probably due to the fact that I am tired, and because of this I cannot promise to write for very long.

My commander's and I have just concluded a conference pertaining to battle tactics and strategies, and how we will proceed against the Lorates, and this prolonged discussion has left me rather fatigued in view of the days travels.

I do not think I could have remained upright and conscious through the whole of it, if it had not been for loyal Meredith who served me a continuous supply of cups of Jomacha.

This stimulative drink is rare here, originating in the western regions of Pasarz and only acquired by trade, and helped me stay alert when otherwise I would have passed out from exhaustion.

But I feel my body slowing down as the effects wear off, and already the weariness is poisoning my judgment.

I should retire soon and obtain as much rest as can be afforded me before tomorrow.

One knows not what the morrow holds, and I would be foolish to be ill prepared, but if it were not for my exhaustion I would doubt that I would sleep much.

My anxiety is keen if my mind wanders to the future.

And I know it is not only me.

The men feel it too; I can sense it in their behavior and expressions, and you can see it by just looking out across the camp.

There is a tension alive and strong, and a reserve that results in an unnatural quietness that cloaks all of us.

It is so thick you can almost feel it, like a giant blanket dampening our spirits and filling us with dread for the future.

In times like these the warriors of Krespania need the most encouragement.

In times like these I have to stand up and give a speech of unrelenting courage and bravery, a speech that emboldens and lifts their spirits.

But in times like these the queen is in need of valor also.

She comforts them but there is no comfort for her.

She must face them as one who stands tall and straight in the sight of danger when inside she is trembling in trepidation.

But that is the duty of the one who leads the people and must be endured as part of that responsibility.

Even if I do not favor it.

I suppose I will conclude this letter and retire, if you will forgive my brevity.

It has been a hard day, and will probably be harder tomorrow.

Farewell, dear reader. I hope I shall be able to write again soon.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

Queen of Krespania