Marching to Kaen
The Armies... marching. Forcibly conscripting on their way. You were caught near the capital, Nefarin. Taken to the camp of the army, you were
searched, and given weapons and armor. Things must be really bad if it came to this... You could always desert... but then you'd be killed on sight,
a criminal to the country. No, it was best to stay...
In the camp, you were assigned a tent, everyone has a tent. A circle of tents around a campfire, like the rest of the camp.
Seven other tents are around the campfire; You were told by the seargent that you had to keep this area clean. Of course, you were given
all that you needed to do it. A rough gray cloak, a staple of the army, was provided aswell, to keep you warm. Thankfully, it doubles as a blanket.
You quickly became acquainted with the other people in the circle; You were to stick together, build comradeship. It's evening, right now...
Just before the call for your meal comes out, usually. Your camp site is near-spotless... You're about a days travel away from Kaen.
Your gear is... well, perfect. You wouldn't get food if it wasn't. You hear the clink of armor; The stomp of boots and the shout of a harsh, male voice.
The Seargent, no doubt. "It's time for food, mutts! GET TO IT!" Seargent Dowell. A tough, intelligent man in his late fourties, he has a grizzled
salt and pepper beard and similar hair, tied into a ponytail. He has a penchant to insult anyone of a lower rank; The embodiment of a Seargent.
Quickly, you jump up, grabbing your wooden bowl and spoon, just like the other 7 around you. Thankfully, you have a campsite close to the cooking
area, so you normally get to eat your meals hot. Tonight? The basic ration of a watery soup and bread. It wasn't a luxury, in any meaning of the word...
but it was food, and it didn't taste horrible. After a few minutes of waiting in line with the other 7, you get your meal and return to your circle.
You weren't allowed to eat until you got back to your tents; rule of thumb. Anyone who did was on latrine duty for a week and sent to the very edge
of the camp... Meaning you'd always eat cold, and stink something terrible. You sit back down on the ground around your fire, watching it flicker low.
You looked up, and realised something... saw it in their eyes too, a group realisation. These people would be the ones who have your life in their hands.
Tomorrow you reach the main army's camp, and the day after, you're marching into battle. Right beside these 7... possibly to die. You get your spoon,
and start scooping the watery soup into your mouth. Nothing else you could do.
There are numerous things you can do around the camp. You can converse with the other people in your circle. Why not get to know people you'll probably
die beside? There's also the armories or the Mages' circles. Both interesting places to visit. You could go sign up for watch duty, but nothing would come from that. You'd just be stuck out in the cold half the night.