Marshal Maximo Pavolich looked up at the gray gloomy hills, sprinkled with scraggly pine trees and wreathed in perpetual mists. He grumbled "Small wonder the inhabitants of this wretched land are wild barbarians, no civilized man would want to live in such a place. Why on God's earth are we trying to conquer it?" The unending dampness made his bones ache and gave an unhappy rattle to his breathing. He turned in his saddle and looked back at the withered remains of his army struggling up the narrow rock-strewn path that sufficed for a road in Boozonia while wondering how they found the strength to continue. He wished for a proper battle rather than this endless skirmishing with brigands and sneaking barbarians.
Presently a lone cavalryman rode back down the path toward Maximo. A blood-soaked bandage wrapped around his brow but he carried himself with a confident air. Spotting the Marshal he altered his path to directly approach his leader. As he reined-in near the Marshal he saluted smartly and asked permission to address his Lordship. Maximo waved him forward, "Speak lad; what news do you bring?" The messenger bowed deeply, "Good news M'Lord. There is but one bridge left to cross before we approach Laphroaig and the light troops and Dragoons have taken control of it." The Marshal turned to his aide-de-camp, "Quickly now spread the news to the troops that we will soon be out of these dreary forests and into proper countryside. Send forward a detachment to reinforce the light troops and secure the bridge against interference from those appalling animals that inhabit this area." Turning back the cavalry captain he smiled and said "How badly I have forgotten my manners, see my Physician and have that wound tended and then see my cook about some food, you look positively famished." As the young man moved away the Marshall smiled up at the sky, perhaps it wasn't such a horrible day after all.