Placeholder 0133
Character
Alexander would be remiss if he did not pay his people any mind. The crusade's inception was proving to be a difficult task, to be sure, but entombing himself in a mountain of work would only sour his humours. It was a healthy thing to walk among the rank and file as one of their own. It helped Alex to keeps the seeds of arrogance from being sewn in his heart.
The scrap of parchment was held tight in his leather-bound fingers. It crumpled and struggled about in the wind, but Alex held it close. Upon it was the seal of his office. He had opted to stroll through the camps anonymous. He'd eschewed his armor for a drab trench coat that was quite common among the Zenithian ground pounders. A simple black cap helped to hide his features from those that might recognize him.
For all intents and purposes, Alexander was just another man of the line today.
The Zenithian winter had come in shortly after the siege. Men and women huddled up around bonfires or sought refuge in one of the many buildings set aside for the soldiers. An alarmingly large number of citizens within the city had opened their homes to the soldiers as well. They were here from all across Zenith Prime to prepare for the battles to come. Alex's heart swelled with pride as he watched them go about their daily routines.
He allowed his feet to take him wherever they might. Eventually he found himself at the entrance of a medical tent. The hospitals were completely filled with the injured, and field rigs had been hastily erected to treat those who could not secure a spot within the facilities. To be out here rather than in the larger medical facilities was a blessing -- the mortally wounded had been sent to the hospitals. Those that would survive their wounds came here.
Alex clapped his hands together and huffed a cloud of warm air into his hands as he stepped into the tent. The tents were artificially heated, thankfully, and he enjoyed the warming of his bones. His gaze fell to the nurses and doctors huddled over their patients, speaking with civilians, or otherwise milling about.
Content to observe, Alexander huddled between two older women in the corner, his lips pressing into a thin smile.
[member="Sasha Tank"]
The scrap of parchment was held tight in his leather-bound fingers. It crumpled and struggled about in the wind, but Alex held it close. Upon it was the seal of his office. He had opted to stroll through the camps anonymous. He'd eschewed his armor for a drab trench coat that was quite common among the Zenithian ground pounders. A simple black cap helped to hide his features from those that might recognize him.
For all intents and purposes, Alexander was just another man of the line today.
The Zenithian winter had come in shortly after the siege. Men and women huddled up around bonfires or sought refuge in one of the many buildings set aside for the soldiers. An alarmingly large number of citizens within the city had opened their homes to the soldiers as well. They were here from all across Zenith Prime to prepare for the battles to come. Alex's heart swelled with pride as he watched them go about their daily routines.
He allowed his feet to take him wherever they might. Eventually he found himself at the entrance of a medical tent. The hospitals were completely filled with the injured, and field rigs had been hastily erected to treat those who could not secure a spot within the facilities. To be out here rather than in the larger medical facilities was a blessing -- the mortally wounded had been sent to the hospitals. Those that would survive their wounds came here.
Alex clapped his hands together and huffed a cloud of warm air into his hands as he stepped into the tent. The tents were artificially heated, thankfully, and he enjoyed the warming of his bones. His gaze fell to the nurses and doctors huddled over their patients, speaking with civilians, or otherwise milling about.
Content to observe, Alexander huddled between two older women in the corner, his lips pressing into a thin smile.
[member="Sasha Tank"]