A Dark Failure

Weariness has sunk into my bones, much like the sun has sunk in the west of South Larlis, where we are at this moment. 

A chill has fallen on the land, and a numbness inside of me.

My constant thought has been a prayer for victory, and for this grueling war to be at an end.

But with the outcome as it is, my hope is dwindling.

My slumber has vanished as of late, either being replaced by restless thoughts and worries, or by harried planning. 

What little rest I do receive is not enough, leaving me still tired when I wake.

Such as at present, I find it more comforting to write than to rest. 

I wonder, is Palkaan even human?

 How can he continue this game of cat-and-mouse and not feel the strain as we do?

Will he not tire of it and surrender?

It must be his greed and lust for power that feeds and drives him on past human strength. 

Or an inner wickedness controlling him...

I might as well explain what has transpired that has driven me to this point of dismay, though I must admit it is not so instantaneous as much as it has gradually effected me.

A few days ago our troops, (Asram's and mine), traveled north into the plains of Unoomad, when we unexpectedly crossed paths with Palkaan and his men.

We formed a defense line, and took part in a brief but bloody skirmish.

In the end we were forced to retreat being overpowered by the multitude of his soldiers, and fled to the southern country, and to the city of Manderk.

He followed taking control of Tion, and then divided his troops into two groups.

One division pursued us, and the other bypassed us to the west and overtook Cirdon, the capital of Unoomad.

We knew the city Manderk was not a fitting strength against Palkaan, much as Tion was not, and withdrew further North to the fortified citadel of South Larlis. 

Now you can understand my dejection.

It seems as though we are always retreating, and Palkaan ever getting stronger and closer to victory.

He seizes any city and land within his reach, and does not halt long enough for us to recover or retaliate.

Will we be able to endure more of this?

Or will our cause die, and us with it?

Dear friend, 

I wish you could speak to me, and share with me an encouraging word or a comforting verse of Scripture. 

For I fear I may not survive much longer in this hopeless state. 

-Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania

Victory Within Our Grasp

We sailed into Tion, completing the last leg of our journey upon The Golden Dawn.

If only it were the last leg of the war. 

The voyage was not as grueling as before having been reequipped with supplies from our Vez-Dûn friends, and the only testing was that of our patience in the weeks upon the waves that followed. 

My anxiety met a climax as I pondered the welfare of my brother in those last days.

But upon arriving in the port, I discovered Lennox had graced me by sending a letter of his recent whereabouts and health, bringing me abreast concerning the confusion wreaked upon the continent of Unoomad and Cressenar. 

I will disclose the contents of his note below:

Dear Emerald,

This is my account of the events that happened these past weeks:

We stealthily approached Unoomad not knowing whether Palkaan was there. 

A few of my servants found that he was further south in Cressenar. 

We sailed through the Unoomad River and some time later we sailed upon Tarqu. 

 A few days later Palkaan's banners came waving on the southern horizon. 

After many days of a partial standstill, an arrow hit me in the left shoulder while I was on the dock. 

It was not a mortal wound, but in fact I recovered exceedingly well. 

I had a lot of time to wonder what ever happened to my thirty troops who were caught in Erreli-Lion; could they be with Palkaan in Atoe? 

Sri-Qing an Agmarian Prince arrived unexpectedly with his academy friends: Franchot Fon'Dam and Jacob Dallahandro; I told them of the situation and they came up with a marvelous plot. 

The three snuck into Tarqu, the city occupied by the enemy. 

But some time went by, and not hearing anything of them, I began to worry. 

After all, they are still amateurs, and I must help them, on account I was responsible for getting them into this mess. 

I crept into Atoe, the enemy-occupied city across the channel. 

It was surprisingly simple, I thought Palkaan's guards would much more vigilant. 

The night was warm, damp, and drizzling, and the hour was late, while I perused the city. 

I noticed an obscure figure in the street coming toward me, and hid in the shadows as the shady character went splashing by and then disappeared around the corner. 

I glanced down at the footprints left by the shenanigan, and just as I expected the footprints were of a split-toed shoe mainly worn by San-Vey's Shinobi legions, but assassins tend to wear them too. 

I followed him into the Castle of Atoe, where I found Palkaan sitting on the throne and beside him was Jrosselmyr Yendon, the Rebel King, whom our father sealed into the castle of Damar, so that he may die for his treason. 

Ask me not of how he escaped! 

I returned to the streets, where smiling Franchot came up behind me, and took me to his comrades. 

From them I discovered my troops were alive and well within an enemy garrison near the Atoe castle. When the clock struck mid-night I penetrated the garrison and sprung the prisoners. 

I loaded the ten dwarves into the horse-drawn cart we bought, on account that they cannot run quite as fast as us humans and Vez-Duns. 

Here, I will state the scenario as plainly as possible: In the southern most part of Unoomad is the riverside city called Tarqu; in the northern most part of Cressenar is the riverside city called Atoe. 

Both cities are split by the Lathan's channel, and in the north end of Atoe is a castle perched upon a two-hundred foot tall pedestal, (the kind you see in the desert), with a spiral inclined path leading from the ground, up to the top of the pedestal. 

And directly north of the castle is a mile and a half stone bridge that stretches across the channel. 

Both cities' castles and pedestals are identical they are just inverted, where Atoe's castle and half of the stone bridge looks north, Tarqu's looks south. 

And in the middle of the bridge is a large guard tower. 

I think that is all of the geography that is key to my story.

Anyway, as we peaked the incline I set fire to the top of the cart that held the dwarves, as a distraction. The cart driven by Franchot, blazed down the bridge, and the passengers lunged out of the burning cart and off the bridge into the water below, where Sri-Qing rescued them in a boat he commandeered. 

The Vez-Duns and us, Humans, ran to Tarqu until our lungs were a fiery furnace and our legs braking at the knee, but we could not stop, for the enemies archers were lining the front of the castle at our rear, ready to fell us at any moment. 

Just then Palkaan saw that I was in the midst of them, being between their castle and the central guard tower, and chose to fight me personally. 

He strolled out to me in his finely polished gold armor and his rich purple cape, which dragged the ground behind him. 

His sword clashed my shield with great might, I could feel the impact tear the tissue in my shoulder. We had recently discovered explosives on one of the bridge's supports on enemy-occupied Atoe's side. 

I slowly fell back until Palkaan was on Tarqu's side of the bridge, with hopes that we could detonate the explosives while Palkaan was on our side; if we could succeed at this, the war would be at an end. 

Sri-Qing lit the fuse, then I heard a guard yelling to Palkaan about the set explosives. 

Palkaan hesitated a second, then charged with great force back toward the castle. 

The bomb went off, and he lunged with all his might as the stone bridge began to dissolve beneath him, landing safely on the other side. 

It was over; I got my troops back, and Palkaan got away. 

My shoulder ached as I walked slowly back to Tarqu. 

Palkaan promptly repaired the stone bridge with a wooden drawbridge, and built multiple bridges across the channel, with drawbridges on their ends. 

A week went by before I heard the invasion alarm clanging. 

Immediately screams and yells where heard throughout the city of Tarqu. 

I told my generals to evacuate the peasants, soldiers, and nobles and through all the commotion, I lost my escort and anyone familiar. 

People were running frantically, and by the time I got my bearings, Palkaan's soldiers were approaching. 

I swiftly fled into a nearby building only to find seven abandoned, orphans. 

Plotting a war is easier then protecting seven adolescents. 

I mean, violence is an old acquaintance of mine, but blood and death is not something children should see, especially at their age; (the oldest is not yet thirteen.) 

Anyhow, I found an enclosed wagon that was being guarded, and I told the orphans to linger behind for a second. 

Meanwhile I snuck around and slammed the first guard into the side of the wagon, and flipped the second one over my shoulder and onto the ground; the third I slew discreetly, and slid him out of sight. 

With the children in the wagon, I barreled down the streets of Tarqu; guards and soldiers tried to block the street, while others pursued us on horseback. 

We finally broke out of the city, and traveled relentlessly west through the sandy dunes of southern Unoomad. 

We traveled through the oasis village of Ciridin, and came to Fort Sardick, the final location in my account so far. 

I hope things are going well for you and Queen Acora. 

As for me, considering all that I have endured, I am marginally great.

Sincerely,                      

      Emperor Lennox de Gavrillac     

                            of the        

                    Agmar Empire

The nearness of capturing Palkaan has brought on a surge of excitement in myself. 

If only we could attempt this again.

If only we would be successful; then the war would end.

Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania