LIAB Epilogue 22:2

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A thick book is open to the last two pages. Tramennis's neat hand writing fills the few following pages.


I must tell you, I am attempting to be brave. And I am failing quite miserably at it. Slately was our pillar. I fear that I lack enough of his steadfastness to support the weight of state. I am as unprepared to rule Jetstone as any who have written upon these pages. I was never meant to wear the crown. (It's a bit much, isn't it? Especially after what was done to it today.)

Jetstone stands on tradition. This book is proof enough of that; Jetstone does not change. When Prince Ansom fell, Ossomer's inclination was to pop infantry, a Jetstonian tradition which served us well against Haggar. But those troops we popped are the enemy's now, arrayed against us. In Gobwin Knob, we face a heterodox enemy. Heretical, my father argued constantly. That does not matter. They are winning. I must do something. Jetstone may not change, but we must adapt.

I believe that we need to fall back and consolidate around the old capital, preparing to face Gobwin Knob in some new manner. I have not yet settled on a Chief Warlord. To this point, every warlord I have spoken with has blanched at the notion of even minor adjustments to our grand strategy. I know I must command it. I must rule Jetstone as her King. I must be brave. But first I must find a Chief Warlord who will agree with me.

And how can I do that, when I lack the bravery even to turn a few pages, and read what my father wrote of me?