FORGING ALLIANCES

Eleanor perched on the outside of the 13th Legion's encampment, her silhouette against the evening sky. The landscape spread out like a tapestry of previous battles, with each mark on the earth reflecting the new ones on her own body. Her palm swept lightly across the grip of her blade, which had been honed by many repetitions. The background buzz of drill and the clink of armor provided as continual reminders of the long, difficult months of intensive preparation.

Her eyes, previously clouded with doubt, now gleamed with the brilliance of an honed blade. Countless nights spent studying over maps and tactics in the dim light of lanterns had left lines of wisdom on her face. Her formerly tentative orders had grown into forceful demands that resonated with a confidence that silenced any whispers of doubt and sparked passionate loyalty among her followers.