Frost woke up an hour or so before dawn, fully refreshed and ready to fight. It was a nice change not being woken up by the blaring war horns.
After grabbing his re-forged glaive he made his way to the food court, wanting to charge up a little more before the big battle.
As he walked Frost caught sight of the many dispirited and stressed looks on the faces of the soldiers and adventurers. Unlike him they had been up most of the night never knowing when they'd be called to battle, to sacrifice themselves.
The chefs, smiths and officers did their best but even, so morale was low and to be honest expected. Few would actually face their death with pride and confidence.
Frost shook his head choosing to not get swept up in the dour mood spanning the town, he would fight and enjoy the looming battle as best he could, but the atmosphere certainly did make it hard for him to go around with a wild expecting grin.
