COMPLETE! The Wasteland. A woman screams in the night. Spotlights flash on a pile of dust in the desolate patch of land that lay just beyond the tall crosses that picket the boundary of Encampment R-34. A group of curious students leave their bunkho...
Your forces of thirty thousand have arrived with low appraisal. They are goat shearers and peasants, holding swords like a shepherd's crook, and a very great quantity of armorless gypsies, nearly all have scarce had any instruction. The only true fighters among us are Vlad's remaining mercenaries, his personal guard, and the High Gypsy. Then there is myself and your Black Army. I am slowly being persuaded by my doubts that this band of fighters has accompanied me for some other purpose of yours. I must know this if I am to continue defending the crown adequately.
Writ at Turnu Severin on the nineteenth of May, Fourteen Hundred and Sixty-Two
Ezzelin von Klatka
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