Failed Solace: An excerpt from Warren Ted’s war diary from the North Wall Campaign.

Retreat had been a graceful thing. We had outran the enemy and had a few days respite from the horrors of the past month. My loyal friend, Hilt, is still with me, as is the courageous Sir (INSERT NAME LATER). The two of them are a constant source of bravery for me and my men. Hilt leads the remnant of my original men, primarily as archers, and Sir (NAME) is in charge of my foot soldiers. Selflessly, he has also traded shield for banner, as well. He is a true warrior and blessing to us all.

It was he that first noticed that the improvised fortress had been captured, though not largely due to choice. Indeed, one has little choice when an Orc arrow is fired at you. Thankfully, his banner deflected it. He is one fellow never to be described as hapless. Ever since he slew the wraith, he has proved his worth time after time. It is unsurprising that he challenged the foul Dread Knight before I arrived with his battle record. I do believe he has killed as many Orcs as dear Hilt, who seems to fell one for every two arrows. Of course, I cannot bother counting the foes I fell. Anyways, using spells would be unfair to the contests of warriors.

In the same minute that Sir (NAME) was targeted, we were pitched into a frenzied battle. Over half of my force was slain. We were completely surrounded and utterly surprised. Hilt’s arrows flew like lightning and flamed like the sun while Sir (NAME)’s sword did not so much as attack the enemy as it did bathe in Orc-gore. It is surprising the blade has not yet broken from constant use.

My valiant forces did the best they could, and we finally pushed the enemy back. Half of use nearly collapsed before we could tally the dead. Twenty-seven survived, not counting Hilt nor myself among them. I have never been more proud of anyone. The friends I have made here are astounding in their unyielding support, their efforts to do more than simply survive and their tenacity in battle. I have heard commanders say their men would crawl through the layers of Hell on their bellies at their command, but I have always doubted it. Now, I still doubt they would do that for a commander who would command that, but for someone sensible and caring as they claim I am. I am humbled by their loyalty.

Time draws short now. The Valiant Twenty-Seven, Hilt and I will probably never see the castle. I doubt I will see the sunset two days from now. May Mystra rest my soul when I am gone, though my body will be desecrated. I hope that my companions will survive, and, of course, that Hilt will find safety. Actually, I will do more than hope. I will ensure it.

Tomorrow’s Strategy: I will start off by casting Greater Invisibility upon as many of the Valiant Twenty-Seven as I can, followed by teleporting myself behind the enemy lines to attempt a one-man flanking maneuver. From this position, I will cast as many area-effect spells as I can, concentrating the forces on myself. Silver-fire and lightning-bolt will also be heavily relied upon. At that point, I will cast Protection from Evil on myself, and possibly again if I encounter their leader. I will continue this for an hour, two at most, giving my friends ample time to escape that cursed village. When I can escape, I shall implement a Sanctuary spell alongside a Protection from Evil and get my mage-buttocks out of there. However, I am leaving this diary with my friend Hilt, to do my best to ensure it will survive. Hopefully, my success and failures will be of use to future tacticians, like the tacticians of the past have helped me.

To all who read this: Seek the truth and knowledge of Mystra and may your name be known for success upon the battlefield. Make The Triad and Lathiari suffer.

To any who care: Build a museum to the heroes described in this book. All gave their lives so that good may succeed, despite their imperfection and personal views. May Corneria once flourish, a phoenix city from its own ashes.