Here I sit on the eve of battle reflecting on my life wondering if all I have done is right or wrong of it it matters anyway. I remove a large leather book from a pack close to my bed in the tent I share with others from my battalion. Holding my ink pen firmly I write a bought my life up to this point, I hopes that it will all make sense to some one in the case of my death. It all started back at home in Enishar…

I was born to my father Lucail a local smith and swordsman and my mother Sheria. There love was never suppose to be, she was the daughter of a High lord and he a smiths apprentice, but it could not be helped. After some time ,my grandfather came to my father and told him in order to go through with a marriage he would need to prove his skills against Lothier the captain of my grandfathers guard. My father accepted and asked for three months to prepare. He was given two, in that time he practiced with a blade that he himself had forged. My father was a very determined sergal at this point in his life, he had something to prove not just to himself but his master as well the sword he forged was a long slender blade a bought four feet in length and slightly curved, with a cutting edge on one side. He forged this blade at night with materials he found in the wilds and others a traded for from merchants. At the end of the second month he walked just before dawn to the large walled house of my mother. Standing at the front gate he declared his love for her and that no sergal highborn or otherwise could stop him from having what he wanted.

My grandfather was less then pleased at this public display, he summoned his captain to dispose of the young whelp and teach him a lesson. My father walked into the courtyard of the house blade in hand and his shoulders held high. The captain fallowed by my mother and grandfather came from the front door of the house. My grand fathers captain was a tall sergal standing almost seven feet tall wielding a large sword almost a foot in width he snarled at my father standing just over six feet. My grandfather spoke slow and almost in a growl. " The fight is to the death young one, if you can best my house captain then you can have my daughter. Let this be known if she goes with you she forfits all claims to my house and all that it holds. If, you can best my captain and if she sides with you" He smiled a wicked grin, showing his long teeth his eyes narrow slits eagerly ready to see blood spilt.

The captain hefted his word and roared at my father takeing several steps to close the gap. My father looked up at the tall sergal and yelled past him. "You think my death will quench her love for me? Then you think you daughter week" With that my father charged the captain. Lothier brought the sword to the side and swept it past my fathers path hopeing to stop his advance, my father rolled under the swing and to the left, positioning himself on the side of the captain opposed his sword. The captain grunted in protest and began to raise his sword, my father took his chance and struck. His sword clanged off the heavy armor of the captain, he smiled and brought the sword down onto my father. He dove away landing prone, as he rolled to his back he herd the sound of the captain roar. Turning his head he caught a glimpse of the blade just above his head. The captain drove his sword down onto the whelp hopeing to cleave him in to but then suddenly the sword rang out as it suddenly and violently stopped. My father had reached his sword behind himself and using the flat side of the sword blocked the strike but at a cost his right wrist ached his shoulder wrenched, He drove his legs back and he rolled forward freeing himself from the crushing force. The captain laughed a hard deep laugh, "This whelp has some skill but he will die" He smiled and charged my father. No sooner had he done this my father griped both hand tight into the hilt of his sword and rushed the oncoming sergal. Within a moment there was a spray of red blood and a guttural grunt. My grandfather stared in surprise, my mother covered her eyes. Protruding from the back of the captains unarmored neck was over half of my fathers blade. My father let go of the hilt and stepped to the side. The captain fell with another sound of steel on flesh as the sword hilt contacted the ground and slid the length of the blade. My father spoke slow, anger tainted his voice. "You have been bested now let me have my love and we will go" he held himself up right his chest out. My grandfather roared and shoved my mother at my father, before turning wordless, returning into his home. My mother and father embraced and kissed for a moment before the left. That night was filled with much love and passion.

That is how I came to be. Months later I was born healthy I was, my father told me I was born from a moment of strength and therefore was destine for greatness. As a boy I was clumsy and wild. Often falling when running or climbing. It seemed like I lived my childhood one bump and scrape at a time. Then when I was older almost and adult my height grew my muscles formed and I became a tall slender sergal as well as agile and quick of mind. My father then began to train me with a sword, often telling me that a sword is only an extension of your arm, that like your hand the smallest movement can have amazing effect. I loved my dais spent training with my father in the field close to our home. We would go all day or until we where both to tired to stand. My life at home was never luxurious but it was comfortable.

That was before General Hakarash of the southern Kingdoms marched north burning and pillaging any village that was in his path. He was charged by his king with one mission. Bring the Northern High queen to him for his mate and through that he would rule all the sergal lands. That started the war between the sergal, droves of males and females joined the armies of north and south, it seemed almost overnight the armies had swelled to numbers that no one could fathom. Even I joined being just and adult at the time I was eager to aid in the defense of the queen. My first few months after my initial training was spent patrolling roads along the border between the Thedarian plains and the Sherimean forsets, the great border between north and south. I saw battle afiew times, once was at night we came across a small encampment of southern soldiers. We silently walked into the camp, almost everyone was asleep the few who where on guard where taken by those of us with bows. No sooner had we entered the camp we began lighting fire to the tents. Most of the southern soldiers died their in the flames of what once was their shelter, others who made it out where quickly cut down, some of the female southern soldiers who managed to get out of the flames where taken to the nearby forest by some of our men. This one aspect of the war that I never wanted to take part in nor did I wish it on anyone. I would hear the stories from those males who hade done this before, stories of force, anger, lust and pain.

At current im serving under General Korgesh, a well trained soldier and a great leader. He holds his males and females to a high standard as he is close with high general Themerilla and often times is seen as one of her own personal generals he keeps his appearance and that of his forces to a high standard. Under the generals orders we have made camp just south of a mountain pass in the low wetlands of Blackswamp. On the north side of the actual march itself. We staged here a force of a bought three hundred and twenty counting the general and his own men. Each tent is spaced wide enough for three sergal to walk shoulder to shoulder between them. In each tent is four soldiers male and female bunk together. I share a tent with my friend Reizo another male Thina and a new male Orzule. We have been here just over a month so my tent mates and I have gotten comfortable with each other. Orzule is the son of a farmer and lost his mother during birth. Thina is daughter to a high lord in the far north and saw it has her purpose to serve, and the there is Reizo he doesent talk much but he is a fierce fighter. From what he has told me and from what I have worked out Reizo grew up in a port city his father was a sailor his mother also but he never liked the life so he left to adventure the world before the war, now he like me has taken up the call of the high queen.

I set my pen down and flip through the pages I had written, thinking on what I had wrote, a small smile escaped me, my teeth showing slightly. I curled my feet and tail as I stood from my cot. It was almost mid day, I wonder where the others are. I pick up my sword and tied the sheath to me belt and head out of the tent into the bright sun. As I stepped outside the scent of the marshlands tickled my nose and the fresh air filled my lungs. I strode from the tent toward where I knew the mess hall would be. As a approached I could hear voices many I knew but could not discern. Then I her the loud booming of the generals voice over my fellow soldiers. I strode into the tend to hear the begging of his speech.

The general stood tall holding himself in high esteem, he stood at one end of the long tent. "Males and Females of the northern army third devition, we have marched far from our home in the service of the high queen." As he spoke his hands and arms moved as if conducting music. "Tomorrow we will march into the pass, on the other side is the southern army, they have begun retreating. Why we do not know but we will hunt them down and face them on the field." a tremendous eruption of roars and cheers overtook the tent. I even felt the need to let out a low growl at the thought of the battle with the southerners. After the general spoke he made his way through the table shaking hands and patting shoulders, something he did often before a battle. I walked over to where I could see my tent mates, Orzule and Reizo sat on the same side of the table and Thina sat at the end of the bench her tail curled onto it. I moved to sit and her tail swayed away. "Glad your up brother." came Reizo's voice, I looked him in the eyes, you know I was writing Reizo. He smiled his tong lulling to the side, as he gave me a nod. "Kaunis the warrior poet right?" said Orzule with a chuckle. I looked at Thina for her comment but none came. She stared strait faced at her food, my eyes narrowed. "Thina are you alright?" I asked pushing at her plate with my left hand. Her eyes slowly closed for a moment, then she exploded in laughter, so loud that some of the other soldier in the vicinity turned to look. She continued to laugh her eyes closed tightly. Then Reizo and Orzule began to chuckle and laughed. "What is so funny?" I demanded. Orzule held up a spoon so I could see my reflection, it took a moment before I noticed it. I had some how smeared ink across my muzzle. From just above my nose to my left eye. On the white fur it was visible as a grey smudge on my black stripes it was hard to see. I poured some water from the pitcher at the center of the table into my hand and rubbed my face, looking at Thina I smiled. "better?" she looked me in the eyes for the first time, yes much better.