08/31/1451
From the plains of South city
Dear Tan,
Two fortnights have passed since that battle. Our camp is still in dismay. News has reached us of the enemy preparing for another assault, but that is a story for another time. I want to talk to you about the men, your men. Some cry themselves out of sleep at night screaming for their mothers. Others have lost their minds. They see an enemy spear in every protruding stick, an arrow flung their way in every bird that flies overhead, and a cold sword that seeps the life out of them in every touch. It is like they have left their minds in the battle. And with you gone, my dear friend, their morale has plummeted.
I besiege you to return. Have you not wondered why your marking as a deserter has not reached you? Yes, the higher-ups are holding off on that announcement both because of your previous station and my request to let me try to convince you. So, I ask you once more to return to the camp. Remember all those battles we have fought side by side. All the victories and losses we went through together. And remember all those we came to call friends that we have lost for this just cause. That is the fate that is waiting for them.
Sincerely Beltore
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