Departure from Eldred's cross illicit's a bittersweet feeling. The Cross is the last city between the Imperium and the war. Sergeant Cole, our new commander is a stern man. All business.

As we made our way out of town, the solemn expressions on the faces of those that turned out to see us off was unsettling. The priest sprinkling holy water only seemed to add weight to the moment.

We march in a long procession North. Ahead of us are the Pentangeles. If ever there were a family in need of some humility it is the Pentangeles. To our rear is the antithesis of the nobles. Shepherds driving a flock followed by hay wagons. The soothing sound of the lyre playing for the Pentangelese family cannot dispel the dust and heat. I am content to stare into the back of the man before me for most of the day. The weight of the armor and and weapons is strange to me. I feel hot spots on my skin where the armor rubs and chafes.