[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 7 ----

All good things must come to an end.

I've enjoyed having Thymbre back. Her presence brings so much warmth, and so many memories of home. She is taciturn about her trip though, saying that she is not yet ready to talk about everything she saw.

In this quiet time we took many walks late at night. Somewhere in the space between the grass and the stars, she tried to introduce me to her world of priestesses, oracles, and signs of nature. For a moment, looking into her eyes, I could almost believe that the gods were real.

We've been training hard. Several Silver Shields have made it to our lowly village, and placed themselves under my command. Although they too have suffered great attrition since being abandoned at the Hydaspes River, those who lost their heart companion have re-partnered, and their prowess has lifted the morale of all my troops.

Thymbre has been using her healing skill on some local hero who now claims to have been the one who convinced Bolfar to join forces with us. His name in Limmy, and he's a bit of a pompous jerk, but one must forgive a man some of the things he says as he stands at death's door, and from the blue tinge of this man's skin it is clear he may not be with us long. The locals bring him gifts of butter, which is generous of them, but unlikely to speed the healing process.

But now we march north, into the mountains. Rumors (as always) tell of strange creatures in the hills, and there will probably be barbarian tribes to pacify along the way. My phalanx is at nearly full strength, and Thymbre will be accompanying us to tend to Limmy, who is coming along at the insistence of the locals, but against my better judgment.

If we are still in the mountains when winter comes, he will certainly finish his slow process of turning blue and freezing to death. I hope the rest of us may escape his fate.

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