The time has come to take the fight to the Lenfel, as many of my kinsmen have already done. Under orders from Lord Tathann, I led my men to a border crossing almost directly north-east of Ithil. Their lookouts saw us coming, but they only had time to get a small guard into place before we were upon them.
They put up a good fight, and alas, I lost two men. They lost more. It is grim, war. I used to dream of battle and glory, and now, I dream of death and despair. Though the war goes well for us, I think of those men who lie dead. They have families, most likely, somewhere in Lenfald. I try to avoid thinking of it, for fear of going mad.
