He shuffled along the forest floor. Each step harder and harder to take. No home,no family,and no allies. His armor,stained with blood -some his and some theirs- rests heavily upon his sore and worn body. His iron guantlets make his arms almost impossible to lift in his condition,the greaves upon his legs make it difficult to walk,yet he continues to move,although in very unstable,and short strides. The large sword weighing down the left hip add to the walking strains. The upper-body armor of which contributes to every one of his current bodily issues. Only his head remains uncovered,his helmet lost somewhere in the Great Lake of Seradonsis.
He is known as Kessel,once a proud warrior of high standards who stood for justice,and Honor. There were many like Kessel,strong respectful warriors,until King Carisom moved in and took over. His persuasion turned many of Kessel's close allies against him. For all of the men and women that refused to change their way of life that was ultimately the most prosperous way,were left to face the wrath of King Carisom alone. In a metaphorical sense,Kessel and the other rebels were a nail,and Carisom's army was a hammer. And when the hammer fell.....it fell hard.
Kessel kept moving through the forest,he tried to be hopefull,though he could already feel the cold grasp of death,slowly starting to close in around him.His only thing to go on was his will to never give-up until he was unable to get-up.It was his warrior code,his life motto. That's when he tripped. A rock he hadn't seen lay jammed in the hard soil. His armor gave of a loud clanking sound as he hit the ground,and the impact reminded him of the wound in his stomach,where he had been stabbed. "The mighty Kessel.....slayed by a rock....heh-he..."With that he slipped into darkness,unaware of what is to come,but ready to accept whatever it may be.
He is known as Kessel,once a proud warrior of high standards who stood for justice,and Honor. There were many like Kessel,strong respectful warriors,until King Carisom moved in and took over. His persuasion turned many of Kessel's close allies against him. For all of the men and women that refused to change their way of life that was ultimately the most prosperous way,were left to face the wrath of King Carisom alone. In a metaphorical sense,Kessel and the other rebels were a nail,and Carisom's army was a hammer. And when the hammer fell.....it fell hard.
Kessel kept moving through the forest,he tried to be hopefull,though he could already feel the cold grasp of death,slowly starting to close in around him.His only thing to go on was his will to never give-up until he was unable to get-up.It was his warrior code,his life motto. That's when he tripped. A rock he hadn't seen lay jammed in the hard soil. His armor gave of a loud clanking sound as he hit the ground,and the impact reminded him of the wound in his stomach,where he had been stabbed. "The mighty Kessel.....slayed by a rock....heh-he..."With that he slipped into darkness,unaware of what is to come,but ready to accept whatever it may be.
That's all I got for chapter one right now....
