[136 / 1 / ?]
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previous: Part 1: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/43183483/ Part 2: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/43190081/
Char sheet: http://pastebin.com/5AHLX5Qb
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheHeadMasterTG
Simon Dal'tross was worried, mostly about the strange events that seem determined to take hold of his already strange life. He had led armies in a land so tainted one would think they were marching straight into hell itself, he had seen the flesh of men, women, and children twisted into abhorrent monstrous shapes, and then he saw the same monsters return to his lines and charge back into battle against the hordes of hell itself. But he had never seen anything like this, and the fact it was so mundane made him worry far more.
The old worn knight captain shakes his head, standing up from the halfed goblin's corpse as he looks around this ramshackle fort in the mud, if he could even call it that, it couldn't compare to places he has seen before.
He sighs, shaking his head as he watches his men carry away the corpses they found here.
Goblins, he thinks to himself, simple creatures who often turned vile by those of their kin who would so lead them. I have dealt with them before, but only as minor nuisances plaguing roads and harassing travelers, never attempting to build something like this with a plan to overrun a tolardarian city, no matter how small.
He sighs again, why can't the fortunes of life ever give him even the smallest of respites from all this hardship and madness. It's all he ever asks is for something as simple as a peaceful life from time to time. Not like it'll happen, ever since his life went bad the council of seven have seen him as their personal hammer with which to smash anything that displeases them. A duty he hates thoroughly, he'd rather do something nice, like tend flowers or maybe run an orphanage for those who lost their families in the war...maybe cook.
cont
Char sheet: http://pastebin.com/5AHLX5Qb
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheHeadMasterTG
Simon Dal'tross was worried, mostly about the strange events that seem determined to take hold of his already strange life. He had led armies in a land so tainted one would think they were marching straight into hell itself, he had seen the flesh of men, women, and children twisted into abhorrent monstrous shapes, and then he saw the same monsters return to his lines and charge back into battle against the hordes of hell itself. But he had never seen anything like this, and the fact it was so mundane made him worry far more.
The old worn knight captain shakes his head, standing up from the halfed goblin's corpse as he looks around this ramshackle fort in the mud, if he could even call it that, it couldn't compare to places he has seen before.
He sighs, shaking his head as he watches his men carry away the corpses they found here.
Goblins, he thinks to himself, simple creatures who often turned vile by those of their kin who would so lead them. I have dealt with them before, but only as minor nuisances plaguing roads and harassing travelers, never attempting to build something like this with a plan to overrun a tolardarian city, no matter how small.
He sighs again, why can't the fortunes of life ever give him even the smallest of respites from all this hardship and madness. It's all he ever asks is for something as simple as a peaceful life from time to time. Not like it'll happen, ever since his life went bad the council of seven have seen him as their personal hammer with which to smash anything that displeases them. A duty he hates thoroughly, he'd rather do something nice, like tend flowers or maybe run an orphanage for those who lost their families in the war...maybe cook.
cont
