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In a land that was long forgotten and in a time shrouded in mist there where was a great war a war that killed hundreds ending families leaving children wondering the streets this is the story of a old solider that told pity on them and rising them or store starts now.
I wasn't but 12 when my mum a dad died I wondered the broken streets for days for anyone that could help me nobody was among the torn building and mist till I heard a voice telling me to come closer the voice was telling me to enter a old burnt home I didn't and yelled to the voice no! Then a person or thing I was too scared and to young to know tried and grabbed me I closed my eyes waiting to be killed then I heard a new voice it said "are you ok my boy?" I looked up and seen a man with a large hammer
Standing over what he called a witch I told him yes and thanked him asking him why he saved me he laughed "because they want a new brother" and as I looked over I seen other children others like myself whose parents had been taken by the war or other thing that where to horrible to say.
As I looked back at the man he said "what's your name lad?" Jason I told him he said "Jason huh well you better come with us tell your strong" I went into a rage and started yelling in tires about what I don't remember but when the old man took a knee and held me saying "I'm sorry for what they did to you I will never let it happen to you again"
I seen a lone tear drop from his darkened face as he razed to his feet and the sun blighted his face it was as happy as a jester's say "let's get underway" and for the next few years learning and getting stronger with every new day till one day when my new father fell to his knee's spiting blood I did all I could we did all we could we camped there over night tending to him till the next morning when we were attacked
Raider's sounded us from every point we fought but not good enough as they came closer it was like the witch that day it was coming death was coming and I will not cheat him. Then out oh the old man's tint he ran with a great yell fighting them all taking gun fire and knife wounds but his body kept moving like he was unstoppable when the bloody battle was over we found our father laying with the raider's dead and broken body's around him he grabbed my hand and saying "my children" with his last breath
And from that day on we turned him into legend the man that took us in and raised us as his own.


lordborgoth's Profile Picture
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
yo sup names brian i dig viking,fable,swordplay,ww2,cosplay,and all forms of folk metal

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Add a Comment:
KomyFly Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Ahoy,Mate..thank ye and so!Noooow give ma a apple and fer ma monkey Jack peanuts or I hang yer guts on to the foremast and.. :iconbarbossafireplz:....what?:iconbarbossaplz:

Ahm,Hector??Nice try..get off! :iconcaptainjackplz:


Sooo Hector is gone ,thank you for the fave,savvy and clear..