It is not as if Orreth had misunderstood. He had known what was at stake long before he had begun fighting for it. Everyone in Drenn during that present age had an extensive understanding of the asking price of war--it was they that had had to pay it once already. But it was not until that specific moment, as a lone and forsaken soldier hiding behind enemy lines, that Orreth began to have the notion that this suffering was symmetrical.

His string of misfortunes perhaps began when he was called for an audience before the king. It occurred at a time when his company had returned to the capital city of Resplara. Being ushered through the long hallway toward the throne room, Orreth worked to mask his discourtesy. He had with him no armed accompaniment--which meant this was an appointment to laud some imaginary honor onto him, to burden him with further responsibility masquerading as high praise. He had done well enough in the various territorial scuffles that came with encroaching on opposing dominion, but the zeal had long since left his blade. he had enlisted, as nearly all men his age had, to protect his village. Orreth now held little attachment to the glory of his nation, and less still to any individual glory. He was ready to go home.

Yet still Drenn was at war. “It is not simply enough to drive the enemy back to their country,” the King had said in a speech to his forces as the tide of conflict began to ebb and the Green army began to retreat for the first time since their advance began. “




The King said to Orreth, “You have proven yourself well. It has been decided that you shall be rewarded for your service. You shall now serve within the Honor Guard as a direct operative for me and my court.”
“Yes, sir,” Orreth said, but he was not pleased. This meant a lot of extra work for him. He felt he had lost even more freedom to choose his life for himself.
The King continued, “You will return to your present company as you journey back to thr front. You will be outfitted and your new post will be made known. You will depart from them once you have arrived at Grist; you will meet General Hovrin to assist in the command of troops and strategems for war.”
“It is an honor, my King,” Orreth replied as he bowed. ‘I really want to go home,’ he thought.

After receiving new armor and a new sword, Orreth returned to his company. They were just as displeased at his promotion as he was, though for different reasons. They were jealous of his new rank, for they wished to advance in rank and glory. Orreth was aware that they were plotting against him, but there was nothing he could do. It wasn’t as if he had a choice.

After journeying for some time, the group reached the forest of Albrus, where they set up camp for the night. The forest is in the country of Brist, who Drenn was at war with, but rested near the border in a region that had already been recently captured by the Drenn army. It was here that Orreth’s former brothers in arms deserted him, leaving for the front in the middle of the night. They expected that since many towns near Brist had not yet been captured that he would soon be killed. The head of an Honor Guardsman would bring a nice price. When Orreth awoke, he understood what happened. ‘What a sore life I’ve got,’ he thought to himself. Thinking through his options, he decided that his highest chance of survival was to enter the nearest town dsiguised as a mercenary. He took off his fancy new armor and put on the leftover armor he could find in the forest. Then he looked for the nearest road and followed it to town.