Warenth's Commision

He sat astride his charger. A young officer of the corp. He only recently received his first commission and his thoughts of assuming command consumed him. The morning sun streamed through the trees, warming him as he rode. The beautiful morning, the brisk air and the scent of spring flowers lifted his mood. Even his horse's steps somehow felt lighter. His training was thorough and he felt prepared to take on the world. He was legion and nothing would stand in his way. He knew he was drawing near his destination. New Elenia should be just around that curve and his excitement grew as he drew nearer.

The Watchman’s Reflection

He was tired. His bones ached. He was sure that he was too old for this. Riding from one castra to the next. Desperately trying to convince some thick skulled, overly self-important, arrogant commander that his news was real. The peace had lasted too long. The people forgot why the castra was built and what it stood for.

Standing watch atop the walls and waiting for the proof to arrive. It was impossible to not notice those very walls were in disrepair. Soldiers out of uniform. Weapons and armor sitting idle and gathering dust. Watching as those very ill-prepared forces came to awareness too late. And then, as the horde arrived, he would mount his horse again and ride ahead carrying the news and repeat the process all over again. He could not continue to see castra after castra fall.