Chronical

And now, here we are. Back at the beginning, from whence this adventure came. "Archers along the ridge! Shield wall!" The shields went up. Some men prayed, and some men cried. For those who believed in neither, they silently lamented whatever losses may be ahead. Little could be seen beyond the wall of interlocked wood; more fear came from anticipating the piercing rain, rather than watching the clouds gather. Each second lasted an eternity. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Were they even there? Had they fl- Thump. A shield, somewhere down the row. The first arrow had landed. Then all at once, the deluge released. Within moments, that same thump found itself echoed from every surface currently holding our line intact. Varied screams shot out, reaffirming that many wouldn't come back from here. As openings appeared in the wall, other soldiers were forced to step overtop those corpses and close the gaps. And almost as quickly as it began, the hail ended. Though, we found

Sixteen pairs of armored boots marched through the gate, passing the two guards stationed along either side as their force pressed forward into the mountains. At the head of this escort walked a leading line, formed from those present in the hall during the strategic meeting. And in the center of this gleaming front line stood the captain, flanked on one side by Livand and on the other side by one of the men who spoke out at the war table. I walked near the back of the main cluster, mentally preparing myself to fight at a moment's notice. The sword I'd found amongst the dead earlier had been replaced by a different, but equally battle-hardened weapon of unknown design.  Shorter than those long blades formerly wielded by the Bovican military, but with greater reach than a Tritonian shortsword. And getting the damn thing proved a battle of its own; the blacksmith would hardly look at me, much less give me access to the armory. It took Livand wandering in by chance and explaining