Post by OgreSound
This is part 2, it ain't as good, I guess, but it explains stuff more and tells why he did what he did.
((again, sorry my grammar ain't good))
Also,
Part 1.__________
Well, I guess I owe a few explanations now, I’m dead, yet telling my story, but we’ll get to that later... to best tell the story I’ll start with the events happening to me 1 week ago. First some details...
My name is Gerard Rales, I’m 23 and already a Knight-Lieutenant of the army or well... a deserter.
I was born and grew up in Stratholme, left before the plague and became a soldier.
My family was in the city when the plague spread there and they died, all except for my brother, Alan.
I was a Knight, stationed near the border of Western and Eastern Plaguelands. I was with 2000 knights including my brother, keeping the undead from coming out of Eastern plaguelands.
I was usually at the front lines, respected by many and I fought damn well.
When my family died I promised to look after my younger brother, he was much like me, just the weaker version.
Well 1 week ago, I heard of 500 men being sent to the ruins of Darrowshire, to take it back and rebuilt it.
I liked the idea and seeing at as a safe mission I sent my brother with the men, I was sent to fight near Corin’s Crossing with 24 other trained knights, everything went well, I reported back in 5 days, we had killed a large amount of the undead and lost 16 knights.
That’s when I heard the news...
The 500 knights sent a few days ago were given new orders, to try to capture Corin’s Crossing, which was infested with near 5000 undead at the time.
I told the marshal to remove the orders, called him a mad man... but that was his plan, he would get 500 men killed to take down a bigger number of the undead.
I was filled with rage... I ran into my tent... and started to equip my armor, slowly...
I put on my cloth robe, on it my chain mail and tabard, strapped on my leather belt, my gloves and my boots.
Slowly I reached for my plate knee, elbow and shoulder pads... I reached for my helmet, from the reflection I saw my face which reminded me of my brother... yes my time had come, too many times had I tricked death, I grinned as I grabbed for my great sword, it was long and heavy, I called it “Last gasp”, then my shield, my one handed sword... finally my crossbow and a dozen of bolts.
I went outside, my horse was there, it had carried me into and out of many battles, it felt as if time had stopped, I looked around, as if I was dead already, like a part of me for some reason died.
I had a bad feeling as I was riding, the sting of death before getting on my horse made me worry.
As I went along my way... something inside me told me, told me that my end had begun.
