We were down officers, the general put myself and Geredre, if thats how its spelt, in charge below him.
Not that it made much difference, so many foreigners refusing to listen. Magic being flung all over the place.
Atleast this time it was at them and not us.
It doesn't get easier, seeing your friends die. They had a machine, a machine most horriblé. I have no idea
how they came across it. Did they commandeer it or were they given it? It was like a thousand flintlocks
all firing at once. So many just cut assunder. I tried to call them up, but only a few listened. As I called to
a young conscript, who was busy trying to play hero... He was riddled with bullets, blow sprayed from him
as he was torn to pieces. I was in horror..
Some witch of Hala broke the line and came back annoucnign it destroyed. I would have rather taken hold
and turned the contraption on them, for all they mowed down. They came in waves, and thenn sent what
seemed a caliban.. he was near indestructable, luckily we managed to subdue him and face of the rest
until the falkovnians called for a retreat.
I was not made for war, my eyes were not made to bathe is so much blood. How many more men must I
kill, or see die? How many more times must I cover my hands in falkovnian blood before they stop coming.
I am not cut out for this, i'm suprised i've held it together.. The general mentioned a commendation and
awards. I'm grateful.. So many dead, I wonder if that is only for surviving..
