Day Eighty-Six

((Hit 80 yesterday, yay!))


We attack tomorrow morning. I've been brewing a special elixir just for this battle. It's actually a very old recipe. Natame mentioned it, and I asked about it while I was in the hinterlands. It's an ancient Troll draught. It grants those who drink it a spectrum of enhancements; from giving you the ability to cast more spells to hardening the imbiber's skin. It takes a great deal of precision to reach its full strength. I've got it at a simmer right now, We'll see how well It works in the morning. I'm not counting on it, but it could make the battle much less costly. The dosage is very low so everyone should be able to benefit. I really hope this works, I've only got third-hand and further accounts of its use; and they are from the side that lost. Still, every little bit helps. And I admit I'd kinda like to be responsible for that little bit.

I've also been reinforcing my robe for battle. Not much, just stitching an extra layer of cloth patches to it on the inside. I figure it'll help dampen the blows a bit, might help keep me warm too.


It brings back memories, watching everyone prepare for battle. Geogg is sitting in front of our fire sharpening his sword. He's got a little black whetstone like my father had, small enough to fit in one hand so he can hold the blade steady with the other. And he has the same expression, a sort of vacant stare that only hints at the concern he's clearly feeling. Dad had that same look the night before he and Cellan lead the men to Andorhal. He's just sitting there, mindlessly sharpening his sword.
I wonder where Cellan is now. I haven't seen her since I...



This one's for you Dad; I won't let you down again.