The cylcing winds howled as it encircled the boulders of the surrounding, barren landscape. Other than the crackling of a campfire, the night was deathly quiet with an air of unease. The shadows flickered and danced far from the fire as if to mock the somber expressions of the faces that were illuminated by the light. Around the fire, indistinguishable faces of varying ages sat in anticipation awaiting tomorrow's bloody finale.

It is to be the final climax of the 13 year-long war between the warring side of Faldrick and the newly established independent Mayland. Centuries of expansion and conquest of has led to a dispersion of the governing power of Faldrick and the wealth from the vast natural resources in contrast to the mainland's military might has split the country into two opposing sides.

A faction of wealthy traders formed a coalition to voice their dissatisfaction with the actions imposed on the newly built settlements in the undiscovered lands east of the capital. Years of cultural differences and isolation sowed the seeds of war between the industrial capital and the eastern frontier. The event that stirred the movement for independence was the slaughter of an eastern village by the group of soldiers garrisoned there to assert the authority of the capital. It is unclear what instigated the act, but little was needed to push the two sides into an all-out war.

Now nearing the end of the war with both sides weary from the struggle, the final battle was to take place near the capital city of Faldrik. The forces of Mayland are currently chasing the retreating imperial army to the town of Mainport. There, they would serve as the last line of defense between the capital city and the army of Mayland. The next day would determine the end of the war or the turning point for the Faldrik forces.

Sighing to himself, Astor dragged his weary mind away from the depths of recollection and motioned himself away from the comfort of the fire to his tent.

"As if troubling myself with history will help," he muttered.

It would be the end of one thing or another, his duty as a soldier or his life. Resigning himself to sleep, Astor took one more glimpse towards the road further down from the campsite. The light from the fire occasionally licked the outline of the old dusty path. While most of it remained shrouded in darkness, the tip of tree branches can be clearly seen above the it. Highlighted by light, it seems to be reaching out from the dark abyss ready to swallow the path whole.

The call to wake was announced before the earliest signs of dawn. His mind was numb from the cold but his body reacted to the noise stirring around him. Sitting up, he quickly prepared his thick leather vest and handguards before standing. Slipping a dagger onto his belt and grasping his sword, he followed his group out to disassemble the tent. The ground was soft from the sudden burst of rain last night which made the chore a great deal more meticulous. After unloading their supplies at a nearby wagon, Astor and soldiers from his tent made way to the road where they are to await further orders.

"Ahhh, I would have liked to have died on a beautiful day," moaned a soldier with blonde hair.

"And I would have loved dying in the arms of a pretty young girl on a bed of roses," snorted another soldier.

After Astor heard few mild chuckles, orders to move out were given. Bodily sensations soon hit Astor after generating his blood flow back to normal. Color dyed back into his eyes as he scoped the horizon for the first rays of sunlight. As they reached a crest in the path, the scenery there stunned Astor. In the distance to the left of where he stood, a small desolate wooden hut can be made out in the backdrop of towering black mountains. The tilled farmland of soft dark soil seemed to curve smoothly with the outline of the mountain range as it extended right and off into the horizon. All that in contrast to the gray sky left an indescribable sense of longing in Astor.

Shaking off his melodramatic trance, he proceeded with the company back down the road. While the distraction was appreciated, he knew he should focus on the upcoming battle to be had.

Maybe if I survived, I could stop to enjoy such a view next time, he thought.

Soon, the pace of the formation ramped up into a grueling pace. Chasing the enemy this far has left their army with little to no food supply left. Astor soon felt his body temperature pick up with an increasing famished stomach. Hours later with the sun directly above him, the formation finally settled down. Astor breathed in the cold musky air to relieve himself of the trance created while marching. Again, he looked down the now stony path. In front of him will be the army of Faldrick some five and a half thousand strong and behind him is the Mayland army of a little over six thousand, starved and weary soldiers. The fate of this country and a few hundred thousand lives rests upon some ten thousand troops. His heart raced contradictorily to his attempts to calm it. His eyes cleared and his hands throbbed with anticipation. The view of the battle was overloading his senses. Astor smiled in delight.