An RP where you should keep in mind that the realm Aldrakar is part of is at war. He is in a border region and has been stationairy there for a while now. Food supplies are running low, morale of the men isn't the best. Ohh and the name is special as well to a certain someone in the game hehe.
Dent Hill in Girich
Sitting on a simple stool placed on a lazy rise that bore the name of Dent Hill. Aldrakar had a nice view of the surrounding of the military camp he had been in for some time now. For as long as he'd been in Girich actually. Since it was retaken from the invading D'haran forces a while back.
The morning air was chilled, it promised rain possibly. Rain could also mean snow or hail or anything in between really. Winter was a strange thing this far south of the world. The camp looked much better though. As with everything, if you keep at it, it becomes better. Staying in a military encampment for a while makes that camp more organized, the rows of tents more straight, the pathways hardened and the earthwork defenses more elaborate.
A patrol of men trampled through the half frozen sludge outside the pallisade as they made their daily rounds. Their gear was visibly worn. Scratched, dented but still polished as best they could. Their armor was still functional but it just needed repairs. Aldrakar let out a small sigh. His eyes picked up another tell tale sign of disrepair, well not so much repair but replenishment maybe.
The cook's tent, one of the favorite spots in the camp according to many of the soldiers, saw long lines of men waiting for their rations. Wooden cups in hand, shuffling feet and looking over the shoulder of the man in front of them to gauge the time it would take before the heavy laddle would fill their cup.
Rations was the correct term, food was running out. The men didn't much know of the situation in the realm but they damn well knew the situation of their bellies. Rations were being cut in size on a daily basis. They hadn't complained yet but that wouldn't be far off now though.
A servant brought a bowl of stew, rabbit stew and handed it to Aldrakar who took it with a thankful expression that he shared with the servant. Looking down at the bowl of stew Aldrakar halted the servant with his voice. ''Wait a moment. Whatever remained of the stew, give it to the men. If there are any more rabbits that were caught, do the same.'' Aldrakar motioned towards the men waiting in line with a spoonful of rabbit stew before putting it into his mouth.
There was no sign of the enemy in Girich, word reached them the other day that the surrounding regions were being abandoned by their respective realms. Both the Desert and the Axewilds were wastelands now, more than they were before at least. Aldrakar pondered his position as Imperial Marshal. The letters were send, the reports received and the strategies in place. He still hated waiting though. A fluttering butterfly of a memory passed his thoughts though as a recollection of Lucini came and went but left a smile on his face.
So the days crawled by for the men and nobles in Girich, counting days, food and damages.
