Read what happened. Give the orders. Submit.
It is early, and the room is cold. Somebody has already been in and left the night's papers on your desk, squared off, because that is his job and he is good at it. Somebody else is waiting in the passage outside for an answer you promised him yesterday.
You sit down. You read.
Then you go round the business of the morning and say what is to be done about it. Nothing moves while you are deciding. Men do not march because you looked at them, and no one acts on a thing you have half said. The day happens when you send it out, and not before.
You can get up in the middle of this. Go to work, come back on something else, and the papers are where you left them, in the order you left them.
When you send it, it goes. There is no calling a rider back.
That is the whole shape of it. You get today's move today, and whatever you do with it is what your kingdom wakes up to.
Pick a username and a password you use nowhere else. They exist for one reason, which is to keep your kingdom apart from everybody else's. There is nothing here worth stealing: no email, no payment details, nothing about you.
Ending a campaign deletes it, and everything attached to it, at once and for good.