A Volker Story
He stands alone at dusk. Not a huge man. But with a stature of a warrior.
His face worn beyond it's years by greif and hardship. For once in a very
long while he wears no armor. Carries no sword. His left hand pale from the
countless hours it has spent in his Panzerhand. He holds the ring tied on
the leather band around his neck. And he ponders the events that have
transpired.
'So. This is it. This is the place where destiny comes to us. Well except
Reynaldo. He seems to have several. He and William no fight to elude an army
of Shea. While Enrique, Talon, Sabine, and Patrick, as beat up as he is, and
I stay to kill a giant. Maybe at last I can make up for my misdeeds. Bring
honor back to the Rienhoff family name. Even if I am the last. Bah! The
children of Eisen will know our tales! Helen, father I know I am a
disapointment. A failure. But I swear now upon your graves, I will have my
honor back. Be damned if u haunt me tonight! On the morow I take what
nobility flows through our blood, and I go to battle.
He pulls the ring from around his neck. Holding it up in a clenched
fist at arms length. He pounds his fist off of his chest, lets out a quick
bellow. He retires to his makeshift bunk. Lays down and quickly falls into a
deep dreamless sleep. Something he feared he'd never enjoy again.
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