The Old Man.

[Makeithome]

  The wind was blowing on his face as he walked down the shadowy forest, his creased brows down squinted in trying to find his way through the mist that embolden itself around him.. "I can't.. see a damned thing.. what is this." The old man commented, a frown forming on his scarred face as he slowly made his way down the road. His breathing was heavily, sweat ran down his brow. ".. Damn, I can remember.. when I was the best runner in the entire Fourteenth Legion.." he stated, almost arrogantly, as he limped his way continually.. getting lost.. and more lost from his homeland.

 Was I going North.. or was it south? I can't remember.. He thought, as he continued along his path, unable to elude this mist.. suddenly, the old man fell forward, into the ever awaiting mist, and then.. there was darkness in the old mans mind..

               He went for escape from his home... What little did the old man know..


- To be continued...


(As a note, all posts are welcomed. Criticism is welcomed, I'm a bit bad on grammar, but i'm a inspiring author here. Try not to get to rough with me, and I tend to give me stories slow starts, and then slowly unfold more of the characters past, to give a better insight for the players.)

[Makeithome]

 The wind was whipping heavily at the older mans face, as he stood on a hill, over looking a poor looking village, smoke and fire raised highly from the village into the smooth night time air, down on the village, the mindless assault of the infantry took place, soldiers swinging swords, and rugged arms at unprotected women and children, also the men that failed against the assault of the massive titans in Armour. Slowly, a man approached behind The old man, patting him on the shoulder, the old man turned to see a middle-aged scarred massive brute of a man. "Ah, Sergeant Rallows.. well done. No mercy for the damned barbarians.." He said in a cruel voice, as he turned back to the scene, then the middle aged man nodded. "Yes Captain Redvine, none will be survive. Spare none, just like the rest of our orders." He said in a confident manner.

 The sun slowly started to rise over the nearby horizon. A red dark dawn, as Redvine slowly looked back to Rallows. "Tell the men to finish up with raping.. slit the whores throats, we have to return to Legion Headquarters, we need to report our looting's and raiding to the General, to tell him how progressive we've been with dealing with these non-tax paying slimes to the Empire.." He smirked, before the middle aged man quickly ran off towards the burning village where screams of agony and grief echoed from.

Slowly, the village burned down.. Innocent women and children being raped, and killed... all at the hands of the confident, Captain Redvine.


To be continued..

[Makeithome]

 The young man stood infront of the docks staring into the ocean, as a cool breeze ran over his face, a sigh came from his lips, obiviousious to the entire world behind him, moving ships, and carts, then he felt a rugged hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Gregor wake the feck up, we gotta unload a entire ship yet.." The young man nodded to the seemingly massive brooding dock worker that stood behind him.
"Alright." He said as he slowly followed the man down the dock, to continue the continous heavy lifting, back and forth.. All day long the twelve year old toiled. Not stopping once for another break.

 Hours later, the young man slowly returned to his pathetic dwelling he knew as 'home' he slowly pushed the crickety door open, where his father stood, half-drunk, the old man slowly approached to his son with his hand extended.

"Where the feck is my money you piece of shit? I pay fer yer pathetic food, and those ratty clothes on 'yer back. So hand it over.." The old man, with a rugged hand roughly grabbed at Gregors purse, grabbing it from him.

Gregor sighed at this, and looked at the drunken excuse known as his 'father'.. And walked up to his room, where he would fall asleep...

To be Continued..

[Makeithome]

The smell of sweat, and the sounds of crying young soldiers echoed in the military academy's hall. There, stood Gregor Redvine, a acne-covered, sweaty teenager. As he stood before his drill sergeant. "Sir! The purpose of the soldier is to kill, as many of our Empire's enemies as possible, Sir!" He stated in a gruff disiciplined tone, that echoed the small training hall known as 'military academy- basic training' Which Gregor had come to known it as hell..  

"What the HELL, Private Redvine, give me feckin' ten laps 'round this hall right now!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. "It's to serve, and then defend, you idiot dock worker!" Redvine quickly began running in circles around the small hall, breathing heavily. He'd been at training for nearly seven hours now, and the day was slowly starting to come to a close, with his oh-so.. pleasant Drill Instructor.

 Slowly, after several minutes, he came to a halt, and saluted his sergeant. "Sir, laps completed sir!" He yelled. "Good, you are dismissed Private Scumbag, get out of my face!" He yelled, Gregor quickly saluted, and ran out of the hall, shortly. He was joined by his friend, a large fat teenager, with a silly mustache.

"So, Gregor.. what did you guys do today? Run and do push ups?" the fat teenager laughed.

".. Shut up, Brastin, you and that Quartermaster unit do nothing, but lay around, and do paperwork all day."

"Maybe so, but hell.. why the hell did you enlist as a Frontline, Dog of War officer, Gregor? What the hell were you thinking?" Brastin commented, with a sly smirk formed on his lips..

"Because, Brastin.. I wanted to be a soldier, not a rear lines hero... I want to fight, and I want to command men into battle, I want glory."  Gregor said, in a slightly confident tone, maybe even arrogance.


Brastin laughed at this. "Whatever, I'm going to the 02 Storage room, I got a jug of whiskey one of my lil' friends from the outside world brought in for me.. wanna get drunk tonight?" Brastin asked, curiously.

 Gregor quickly nodded. "Is there a reason for you to be even feckin' askin' me.. Lets get drunk, it's been long a long hard day, with Sergeant Yells."


Later that night, the two boys topped off an entire jug of whiskey, passing out in the mourning.. little did they know 'Sergeant Yells' would discover their little secret...

[Makeithome]

((Writing New Story Entry.))