It is the chirping of the birds which first jolts you from your stupor, proudly sitting upon their trees, singing jollies to and fro of the merry morning lights. You, who had found no rest, no shut eyes throughout the night, take it simply as an ringing pain on your head. For though you had momentarily found yourself lacking in cognition, it was not rest which you had felt, but a lapse in concentration, a departure of your thinking to some state of sickly torpor.

You had not slept for the entire night, and certainly, it hath given no benefit to your condition. But then again, how could you, with the challenges that you faced?

You are <span class="mu-s">Alessandro Galliota</span>, the Viscount of Portblanc. That much you can be sure of, even in your sorry state...you, who had been brought here to this land of Nera, this distant land from your own, by your great liege <span class="mu-s">Don Carles IV Brascarams</span>. You had come here to wage war in the name of the Spisa family, allied to your country, against the forces of the Fortelli, friendly to your foe. You had launched a campaign throughout their borderlands, partaken in a siege, and most of all, you had faced a force far mightier than yours, many times greater in both number and capability, aided by scores of Himmmerian Giants, those most fearful of enemies of the human race. For a whole day, you had succesfully fought them of, and, shattering the bridge which they sought to take in an pivotal moment, you had sunk to the depths of the river hundreds of their men.

You escaped death, too, by a hair's breadth, when the infamous <span class="mu-i">Famiglia</span>, those mighty knights of Nera, armed with beastly amazonian mounts, had been able to momentarily breach your formation. It was only by bidding your musketeers to fire upon them even as they fought your own men that you had survived, though at the cost of your entire retinue. All those things and much many others had happened yesterday, in this battle upon the Vessena. This battle, you are certain, has not ended yet, and it is this which brings you trouble. For today you must <span class="mu-s">seek out victory</span> and find a way to hold your foes at bay until the city of Montechia falls!

For now, however, breakfast will have to do. Shaking yourself out of this stasis, you raise yourself from the piece of wood that you had used as a seat for the night. <span class="mu-i">Because you had fled into the grove to make your camp</span>, you did not have the amenities of your lordly tent. Of course, compared to those amongst the soldiery who did not have any tent at all, you were not in a poor state. You order one of your servants to gather up whatever is available for you. What you receive, after some time, is...some bread, and some of the cheap rum that was served to the soldiery. Though it be enough to fill you, you cannot help but feel some manner of bitterness in the knowledge that you stand but a few minutes of travel away from your supply wagons.