A Curious Alliance

The day of dread arrived that would bring the inevitable meeting with the king of Isoloyia.
It was the day I had earnestly hoped would not approach; yet it had, despite my wishes, and I would now have to face my fears.

But between the time of the news of his arrival and that day I had found a surprising and unexpected complacence in my soul and a dissolution of all those acrid abhorrences that I was certain would mark his entrance when he came.
The spell that his name incurred upon me fell away when I continued for a time in contemplation and reasoning. 

Hopefully he would not be so impudent as to insult and treat me wrongfully in my own court.
But I paused – he would not be able to help it if his disposition was so founded upon it.
But certainly his reasoning would impart to him that if any of the two of us were above the other, (though in truth there exist no such thing, for we are equals), it would be more so I in my domain and he in his.
I stopped again.
The king's pride might not let him listen to his reason.

Though these thoughts did little for the future situation, they had in fact stabilized the tumultuousness inside by emphasizing these truths: I would be in my kingdom; he would be coming to me and not I in search of his assistance; I had no favor to seek, but it would be him who would be seeking my favor – favor of presence.

This was a soothing balm that did not wear off even as the day dawned.
No matter how he would behave, I would not shy away in fright, and hopefully I would be respectful in return, even if he was not.

The morning was like any other day nearing Spring as it was, pleasantly warmer than the former temperatures had been; a tranquil azure sky contrasted against the energetic rays of the sun, and all with the distinct sensation and smell of the freshness Spring entertains.

I had been told King Hyndralad was in the city and knew the hour was ever drawing nearer in which we should meet.
With this in mind, the court hearings seemed to drone on. 
The hours moved slower than a donkey with a heavy load, and my patience waned as I waited.
And when the session concluded and the report that the king of Isoloyia was in LunaMara palace requesting an audience, I was sent into frantic throes, hastily reviewing my appearance in a looking-glass and making certain my hair was as neat as it had been when it was adorned that morning, and readjusting my clothing and hair-veil to resemble perfection as closely as I could obtain. 
My ladies-in-waiting all clamored at once that I was the portrait of elegance and beauty, yet I was not convinced.
Perfection was a close friend of Hyndralad, but was indifferent to my pursuit of a relationship.

With a powerful force I squelched my inner qualms and stilled my nerves into an assumed serenity.
The king of Isoloyia entered through the large doors at the far end of the throne room, and with a stateliness I had imagined, ascended the stairs that lead to my very presence.
An entourage of soldiers and servants followed in the wake left by his flowing blue cape, all with the same disciplined march. 
Hyndralad's air of military was further emphasized by the armor he wore, polished to a piercing glare.

He bowed, and when he lifted his head those familiar auriferous eyes penetrated my own, and the corner of his lips slightly curled in a smile that lacked the humor that usually accompanies one.
“Hail, fair queen of Krespania! Greetings from Isoloyia, and so forth.”
I returned a stiff bow atop my throne and pronounced a similar formula of the ceremonial hyperbole.
“I hope Your Majesty is enjoying good health.”
I answered in the affirmative.
There was no reason this charade of formality should continue because I knew the king to be straight-forward, therefore I did not hesitate nor think it inappropriate to inquire:
“Your visit is a surprise to be sure; what has induced a visit to our abode, may I ask?”

He raised his eyebrows as if observing me anew.
“I have long been abroad in the lands of your brother, Emperor Lennox, assisting him in his fight against the Astrologers, as you know from his letter I am confident.”
Yes, Lennox had mentioned it, and it had left me bewildered that he should come to his aid when he had not been so eager formally.

But you, my reader, are probably confused asking who the Astrologers are since I have not taken note of them before; so I will pursue a much needed rabbit in your case to explain:
The Astrologers are a hostile cult that worships the heavens and stars and dark magic and have recently cropped up in Agmar with vengeance.

Wherever they go they seek to overthrow the authorities and take over themselves, killing and destroying whoever resists their practice.
Lennox has long been at war with them, but since they are extremely elusive it produces only little skirmishes here and there and not an all out battle.
Once they retreat, it is hard to locate them again.
They are like a disease slowly poisoning the villages of Agmar with their demonic ideas and have grown so prominent they cannot be ignored.

Hyndralad de Gundalia continued, “They had barricaded your brother in Fort Carvin, and my men and I were separated to the outside. We had been fighting steadily for some time before your brother joined in, and since we were not availing in any way Lennox suggested I take rest. I already had business to conduct here, therefore I thought this to be the most opportune location.”

“What other business must be concluded in Krespania?” I felt it was necessary to know.
“To speak with your lady-ship directly.”
Another bewilderment!
What could he have to say to me, for whom he must certainly regard with condescending disdain?
He probably looked at the landscapes and cities of Krespania as he arrived, with disgust, viewing them as the rags of poverty compared to the glories of Isoloyia.
But his austerity made it impossible to deny him.

“Would you like to view my gardens?”
It would provide some privacy if it was called for.
King Hyndralad nodded, and we left the dim interior for the sunny landscape.
I was conscience of the returning sense of diminutiveness as I walked alongside the massive height of the Vez-Dûn king through the gravel pathway, walled on each side with green hedges.

“This is stunningly beautiful,” He rotated his head in observance of the many rose bushes in neat rows, preparing to bloom, and the trees overhanging the grove path.
“As it is with the palace itself... and the mistress of it all.”
I risked a glimpse at his face.
Was I supposed to be flattered? I knew not how to take it.
He spoke of other trivial things that I dared an answer. 
Yet as far as my disposition went, I would say it was not grass we trod on but pins and needles.
Would one wrong answer induce him to explode in a raging temper or was he more stable than that?
I feared no bodily harm – Jokthan and Joktan, who were not far behind, would prevent that.

I was just not well enough acquainted to understand his personality.
And if I thought I was beginning to his next statement proved otherwise.
“I have come to you with one express task in mind; Though I find it difficult, I will not divert, for I have determined to go through with it. When we met last I treated you treacherously ill and not deserving of a descendant of Cedric de Gavrillac, and I wish to implore your forgiveness.”

My breath caught, and I looked at him half expecting this to be a jest. 
No expression carved itself on those stony and pointed features, and I had to assume based on his characteristics of being honest in every situation that he was sincere.
“But would you suffer such an apology to me without the claim of the de Gavrillac surname?” I wondered but hardly dared to voice. 

The king had already stated the confession was difficult, I would not wish to stir up regret and perhaps end for all any communications between our kingdom by antagonizing him.
Instead I said, “Since it is not in my habit to withhold forgiveness from any one, you shall have it, sir.”
“In the future if you ever have need, I will not hesitate to fulfill your request.” Hyndralad gave a bow in gratitude.

I returned the offer having the feeling that this was the foundation of a curious alliance between our countries.
But would it retain the strength to continue or would it fail in the flower of it's youth?
And what had brought about this transformation in the king of Isoloyia to be able to bring himself to apologize? Or even to invoke him to leave his Vez-Dûn palace and come out into the world after so many years?
And let us not forget his taking part in the fight against the Astrologers.
These surprising ingredients were all stirred into the large cauldron of wonder to simmer and cook till I could withdraw a satisfying answer from the reduced remains.
Until then I was confused.

Perhaps Lennox had something to do with it, seeing as Hyndralad had been with him for some time in Agmar.
We began our walk again with me feeling a little more relaxed and more congenial toward our guest than I would have imagined I would ever be.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania

To Flee Or Not To Flee

A strange report reached my ears nearly a week ago; my sentries have sighted Hyndralad de Gundalia, king of Isoloyia, at my borders and since then traveling through my land seemingly with Estrillo, my capital, as his destination.
My mind was brought to confusion upon hearing this news.
What could it mean, I puzzled?

Our last encounter was less than cordial, having found him resisting any sort of assistance in the on-going war, and only after some persuasion on my part did we receive the dreadfully needed supplies and sustenance in order to keep us alive and strong enough to help our brothers in the battle against Palkaan the Tyrant.

His aloof and detached civility resulted in my conclusion that we would never meet again – especially by his leave, yet there he was in my kingdom.
I immediately brought the morning court to an end and arranged for my counselors to meet me in the conference chamber.

Their verdict was simply stated: we could not forbid him to enter on suspicion that he might harbor ill-will and pernicious intention toward us.
And in all honesty he has not exhibited any signs to warrant that assumption.
I only find it surprising that he should visit me, and must wander why.
Given the fact that the King of Isoloyia is not friendly, I am inclined to think it would be for the worse.

Therefore we must receive him with every royal courtesy for diplomacy's sake, whatever his purpose for coming.
We adjourned, and I withdrew to the gardens.
The sky was clear with the exception of the brilliantly lit orb suspended midway in it's blue folds.
It was an unusually warm day for February, and the fresh air was reviving.
Once my lady-in-waiting and I were alone I turned to her with some apprehension weighing my conscience.
“Meredith, what would be the consequences following a queen who participated in a long horse-back ride so that she avoided a certain noble personage?”

“I am afraid such an act would result in Her Majesty being subject to open disapproval and ridicule.” She replied.
“But I know Her Majesty; her duty is nearest in her mind, and no matter how hard the task is she would not avoid it.”
The answer was without pretense and straightforward.
I squinted past the the lifeless foliage surrounding me and the morning sun to the tall trees at the northernmost part of the palace.
I gave a wry smile.
“You must know her better than I... I just do not wish to be under that heavy gaze of reproach again. You cannot fully understand how it made me feel - small does not compare!”

“Milady, I thought you did rather well at the situation.”
“but it took every ounce of courage inside of me to stand up to such an imposing figure! I felt weak, and I loathed it.”
Meredith smiled. “Your Majesty has a strength within that will endure any situation. You will stand up to him once again. But perhaps we will find His Majesty of Isoloyia changed in disposition since last we met and more tolerable.”

“Perhaps so – I hope so! But I have my doubts.”
We walked along the stone pathway and talked of other things, yet amidst it I found the disturber of my peace not easy to forget, and the looming encounter something to dread.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
Queen of Krespania

Troubadours and Acrobats

With the passing of the holiday season and the activity it produces, life has returned to it's normal rhythm- with the exception of myself.

Somehow the schedule I have at LunaMara seems hardly enough.
After waking and eating breakfast, I go to the royal chapel to pray and reflect upon God's Word.
Then I go to the court where I listen to my subjects requests, petitions, and et cetera.
This lasts till noon, and I proceed to meet with my officials to sign governmental and political documents and discuss alterations in the administration.
But from there I have little else to do until dinner in the evening.

 I feel like any spare moment of my time must be spent in doing something worthwhile, and if not I suffer such agony.
But the reason for this is no mystery to me; the majority of the previous year was consumed in the terrible war with Palkaan, where every minute I busied myself in planning strategies, giving orders, obeying orders and moving the troops to suitable locations for the most advantage.
I was worn to the bone, and even still I remain less than fully well.

But that does not give my instinct pause.
My hands must be busy!

Wherefore I have taken to early morning rides each day and long walks through the snowy LunaMara gardens at midday.
My lady-in-waiting, Meredith, is continually cautioning me to not overtax myself, in concern for my health.
And I try, earnestly I do, to rest, but once I sit down I become so agitated and distracted with whatever it is going on, and it is not an easy thing to keep still in such a state.

A certain nobleman of my court suggested hiring a troupe of Pasarzian performers to entertain me and divert me from my anxiety, and my lady-in-waiting promptly arranged for their arrival this last weekend.
Since then they have performed every night after we dine.

And the concept has worked thus far; I am wholly fascinated by the lyrical songs of the troubadours, and am particularly drawn to the acrobats with their strange contortions and ability to balance one upon another without falling to injury.
Oh, and the ones that breath fire!
I should think it was sorcery other than the fact that such practice is prohibited.
The entertainers are quite talented.

Hopefully I will be well soon and overcome this habit I have taken too... albeit it will be some time before that takes place.

But do not worry, friend.
I shall write in the meantime.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania

Far From Home

The destination is set, and the coordinates navigated carefully by the stars above.

Not to any location upon which we would wage war in the quest for freedom, but to a place I have eagerly yearned for: home; the idea is almost foreign to me after the many months I have been away.

Like a distant dream with no part in reality, is the sound of it to my ears; I feel as if it cannot be obtained again once the dream has ended.

Krespania should be lovely around now; the streets of Estrillo are probably blanketed with a layer of white snow, and each house lining it decorated with fresh wreaths of foliage and Christmas greenery.

I can see the children playing in the snow, with sanguine cheeks, bright eyes and a merry smile, and hear the greetings of the season from the lips of every person that have ventured from the warmth of their houses into the brisk cold of the day.

Oh, how I wish to be part of it!

My heart wills the ship to sail faster so that I will not miss any of it; but alas, we shall not make port until next week unless a favorable wind is bestowed on us.

Meredith is going to great lengths to cheer me up; she has concocted a mixture in the galley that tastes similar to the seasonal drink of wassail, simply to revive my Christmas spirit, and subdue my depression, but aside from that little else aboard The Golden Dawn reminds me what time of the year it is.

In these unsteady circumstances I wonder if Lennox will ever visit me for the holidays, beings still occupied by the left over wars Palkaan's men are holding in certain regions.

As for Palkaan himself, I deferred to King Brinsley of Asram the privilege of delivering him to the League at the Summit Isles where he will await judgment and ultimately execution for his crimes.

My men are presently still assisting Lennox in concluding the war, but having no further need of my personal command, I took the opportunity to set sail at the earliest convenience to Krespania.

There hopefully I will receive the rest that has been absent in my life and recover from the grueling aftereffects of the war.

I hope I am not too fatigued that I cannot enjoy the celebrations and festivities that will take place at Krespania.

I cannot help but yearn for the cozy nights in front of the fire, mesmerized by the crackling and popping of the wood, with a warm drink and pastry in hand, while telling stories or memories like the tradition Lennox and I have every winter.

My opinion will certainly change later but the thought of organizing a feast or gala sounds welcoming and relaxing to me, even though I usually consider it a most stressing ordeal. 

The stress that comes from planning still has a lightness compared to the grave stress incurred by war and battle.

I think I could cope with it marginally well in light of what I have been enduring as of late. 

And seeing as it as fitting with the time at hand, I will finish with the wish that you will have a merry Christmas and a joyful holiday season.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

Queen of Krespania 

Conclusion to a Conquest

The glorious white light of freedom has dawned upon us once more.

In one day our lives have changed and we have awoken from our long-lasting nightmare unto unanticipated triumph and relief. 

Some time has passed since I last wrote and in that time a dramatic change has occurred to the outcome of the war. 

Palkaan has been defeated!

From my last account you might find it hard to believe, and I assure you, the feeling is mutual, though I have witnessed it with my own eyes.

It was only in my wildest dreams that victory would be that swift, and I can already feel the effect it has in my bones.

Yes, my weariness still remains, but this new zephyr of hope has lifted the heavy burden from my shoulders, making the fatigue bearable.

Despite my outward appearance, I feel alive!

Alive inside, and full of joy and gratitude to God.

Would you like me to explain how it took place?

The details can be spared to avoid overwhelming you.

Continuing from my last account, we remained in South Larlis for some time when we were met by peasants coming from the port of Diamond Water.

Lennox had gathered inhabitants of the devastated cities Palkaan had left behind and sent them on ships to reinforce us.

Meanwhile Palkaan had destroyed Darvern and was beginning to approach us by way of Vernik Meadow, most likely with the hope of doing the same to us in South Larlis.

But unbeknown to Palkaan a plan was set into action that would smite him in his pride.

The peasants that arrived wore uniforms of Agmar soldiers, and I discovered Lennox's own men had traded them for their clothing, in accordance with a plan my brother had concocted.

We waited until Palkaan was in the middle of Vernik Meadow and closed in on him.

Lennox, with soldiers dressed as peasants, came in from the East, Asram's forces, from the South, and the peasants, in soldiers' armor, and my troops from the North and North-west.

Like a cornered rabbit, he had no choice but to face one of us, and since Asram and I had the larger forces, Lennox appeared the weakest link.

He soon discovered otherwise when the said weak peasants fought as fully trained soldiers.

Palkaan fought furiously, but to no avail; he could not retreat or withdraw to form a new battle line, because we surrounding him.

He was caught in a trap!

Jrosselmyr Yendon, the Rebel King of Damar, who commanded half of Palkaan's troops, and had joined with him at Vernik Meadow by way of sea, finished it for us.

He predicted his impending doom and called for a retreat.

In the confusion, Palkaan's men did not know who to obey, and most followed Jrosselmyr as he found a break in our lines and escaped the way he came, leaving Palkaan vulnerable to our attacks and ultimately delivering him into our hands.

Lennox pursued the Rebel King and his men, but by then majority of them had dropped their weapons in surrender, leaving only Jrosselmyr accompanied by a handful of his men to be captured.

As manacles were placed on Palkaan, the man who had destroyed so many lives and inflicted so much heartache to people everywhere, I could not believe my eyes.

Was it really over?

Was this the end of all our journeys across the world as we raced to defend the next place Palkaan had assaulted?

I could not fully comprehend all of what it meant, having been accustomed to this harried lifestyle for many months, until later when I was alone.

The relief was overwhelming, and I felt like crying because of everything that had happened.

But now that some time has passed I am overjoyed by the deliverance the Lord has blessed us with.

We are free of the tyrant that plagued our lands and homes and banished laughter from our hearts!

We can live again, even if it means starting over with some.

The end of bloodshed has come.

Hopefully it will not return any time soon.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania

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