[b][url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/3982338]Selene Silverblood[/url] - Cardinal War Camp[/b]

[i]The bull is dancing.[/i]

That’s how the priests of Kartoll describe rain. When Kartoll danced with mad joy, the heavens would open up and shower the lands. Through the open flaps of her tent, Selene could see the effects of the bull’s dance as rain pattered on outside.

[i]This is a good sign[/i], she thought. [i]This is a good start. Rain can only mean growth. Rain reclaims life from death. Rain coaxes new stalks to grow.[/i]

She realized she was trying to cling desperately to anything that might promise hope, however faint. It rained during the Ruin too. [i]Stupid woman.[/i]

“My lady, you can’t be possibly thinking of going out there without a cloak, can you? You will catch a cold!” exclaimed Chesa, her maid. Well, Chesa was maid, surrogate mother, stern drillmaster all rolled into one. She was standing behind Selene, hands on her hips and her cracked lips making a thin line. In public Chesa would bend and bow like a humble servant, but in private she only saw a 12-year-old and not a lady.

“No Chesa. I most certainly wasn’t thinking of that,” Selene replied. It was hard for Chesa to see her as anything but a little girl. The old crone had changed her swaddling when Selene was just a babe. And spanked her a number of times for stealing sweets or skipping lessons. “Honestly, woman, the Undead are out there; the largest army the world has ever seen is preparing to meet them, our entire future could be destroyed in one stroke; and if by chance or miracle we make it through and actually manage to reclaim our lands I could very well find a dagger in my back courtesy of one of my [i]dear[/i] cousins who would just love to be High Seat of Silverblood, and you worry about me catching a cold?”

“Someone has to,” Chesa retorted acidly. “Here.” She held out a waxed leather cloak. “This will keep the rain out.”

Suddenly Selene grinned and pinched Chesa on her cheek. “You are the sweetest rude person I’ve ever had the fortune to meet, Chesa. We should just give [i]you[/i] command of the army.”

“No thank you, my lady,” Chesa replied, visibly softened. “I am sure the Duchess is more than capable.”

“Let’s hope she is, Chesa,” Selene said as she put on the cloak. “For the sake of the whole world, let’s hope she is.”

Selene slipped out of the tent and her nostrils immediately flared with the assault of so many scents: sweat, blood, rain, dirt, decay, death, dung, mead, meat, the fine perfumes of the lords and ladies, and underneath it all, the smell of fear.

[i]Fear is good[/i], she told herself. [i]Fear is the precursor to courage. Not its antithesis.[/i]

She looked around to get her bearings. The horn had sounded when she was in the room, and the heralds were still shouting about the Duchess’s call. She started walking with the crowd. Nowhere had she seen such a gathering of humans, dwarves and elves. There were people from every land, known and unknown. This war was going to change many things, even in victory. Worlds were being thrown open, cultures were being forcefully mixed. It was a wonder the camp hadn’t erupted in chaos so far.

Selene was camped in the better part of the camp, where the tents were arranged in a grid pattern. Most of the lords and ladies stayed on this side. As she moved closer to the center of the camp, the crowd thickened and so did the tents. She had to be very careful not to trip over the peglines as she weaved her way.

People did try to give her way when they could. Her bearing reeked nobility - not something easily challenged. Some men jerked a bow and mumbled an apology when they jostled her. She had seen war camps before, had served in a few of them. She was accustomed to brushing with the commoners and the soldiers, used to the occasional rude comment or suggestive stare. She didn’t mind the crowd as she slowly made her way to the platform.

It was a large wooden platform, raised and constructed like a stage. Someone had had the good sense to attach a makeshift set of steps. The Duchess was not yet present and the crowd around her was buzzing with people wondering about the Duchess’s plan and the state of the war.

Selene was aware of a buzz in the pit of her stomach as well as she unconsciously adjusted her cloak and smoothed her skirt. It was really beginning. Suddenly, even the largest army of the world seemed small compared to the might of the Undead world beyond the Sacred border. She hoped the Duchess felt braver than she.