The night air above Greenvale's forward camp carried the scent of meat and fire.
Over two hundred thousand soldiers filled the valley; the obscene amount of men and women gathered was such that their banners formed a sea of color beneath the stars.
Tents stretched as far as the eye could see, rising and falling with the land like a city built overnight. Lines of cooks hauled cauldrons through the paths between them, servants carried crates of wine and ammunition, and blacksmiths worked behind curtains of sparks, repairing the damaged gear before the next conflict occurred.
"Yeah!!"
"Cheers!"
"Greenvale prevails!"
A cheer rolled across the camp every few minutes. The army returned victorious, or so the front-line soldiers said. Those at the back couldn't be sure because they did not even get to look at their enemies, much less shed their blood.
