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|A young man send a letter to his younger brother from an armys campsite||
A letter from a camp
I had been expecting the letter for some time now. As I started to read, I felt some excitement. The first letter from Sintar since he left for the war against Palton.
As I write this, I am outside a little village just beyond the river Saltaar. It is a cosy little village, with a little inn, but we are staying in tents outside the village. I have taken up the quarterstaff in addition to the sword. It is quite a remarkable weapon. One man in camp can beat even the best swordsmen in the army with one it, and he is teaching me to use it correctly. Iím afraid I have some bad news as well. Our good friend Ormeir is dead. He died trying to save another man that fell in the river, he didnít make it either. I am sorry for your loss, which I feel also.
The commanders say that we will meet up with the archmages in a few weeks, and then we will continue to Palton, to attack their mighty fortress. This may be the last letter I send for some time, as we will move on soon, and I know not when I will have time to write next, with the training and the marches. Much depends on our victory at Palton, but you know that. I just hope that everything is planned, just in case we canít take the fortress.
I hope everything is alright back home, with your sword-training and all. Remember to never underestimate an opponent, no matter what he looks like, or what weapon he carries. The quarterstaff is just as deadly as the axe or the sword, even if it is a farmers weapon. And never join an army when it marches to war. It is hell. You have to take guard duty, and you have to march for most of the day, and train your weapon to supper, and then sleep and wake up to the same next morning. Like I said, it is HELL. And none seems to care what happens to you, unless they need you, and then they can search the whole camp and give you a whipping if you donít get found quickly enough. I have not had a whipping, as I am always found near my saddlebags or on the training-ground.
I think I may be able to write to you when we arrive at a town east of Palton, but I am not sure.
Sintar, your brother"
As I closed the letter, I thought of his words: Never underestimate an opponent. I wished he had mentioned the quarterstaff in an earlier letter, but itís not his fault that I can not move my hands quickly enough not to be struck by a quarterstaff. I lost my sword that time, and it is a lesson I will never forget. Write soon brother, write soon.
|A letter from a Battle|