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Hiya all! Title says it all, here is mine:
Johannes Volker
Early Life
Born on August 24th, in the year 1788, Johannes Volker was the second son of a wealthy Coal mine owner in South-West Silesia, Reinhardt Volker. Hailing from a coal mining village just outside of Breslau, Johan grew up to a life of luxury; he did not have to work in the mines, and spent most of his days reading his fathers books. As a young man, Johan knew that his older brother would take control of the family's mine when his father passed, and decided to dedicate the early years of his life to his education. Johan has a very gifted student, talented in latin, mathematics, and philosophy, Johan soon outgrew his Volksschule teaching, and decided it was time to go to a university.
Education
In 1805 Johan packed up his belonging (a few sketchbooks, a journal, and a collection of books on philosophy) and moved into Breslau to attend university there. His first year Johan excelled in his philosophy classes, but received negative marks by many of his other teachers for his habit of questioning their judgment, and for refusing to follow direct instructions. Loving life among the middle-class educated population of Breslau, Johan spent many nights in taverns, houses, libraries and other such locations ferociously debating with his peers. Were it philosophy, politics, war, or any other number of subjects, Johan would debate for hours on end. This explosive personality led him to become a leader among students, guiding them with his fiery words.
Invasion
One year later, when Napoleon's forces invaded Prussia, Johan longed to fight for his home; however, because of his age, and his father's influence he could not fight for Prussia. Luckily for him he was saved the bloody fights at Jena and other locations throughout Prussia, and watched in pain as his country was subjugated by France. Fuming at the defeat of his country, Johan would dedicate the next years of his life to fighting the French in any way possible.
For the next three years of his life, Johan would outwardly speak against the French, and organized students against them. Never taking any real action, Johan simply riled up his classmates with patriotic fever and preached to them the glory of an independent German state. This period of resistance culminated in 1809, when Johan was invited to the New University of Berlin, to be taught by Johann Gottlieb Fichte, a strong advocate for revolution. Johan was taught the ideals of German nationalism, and became even more fiercely opposed to French rule. For the next three years, Johan would remain at the New University of Berlin, learning and growing more and more bold with his speeches and writings against the french.
The Wars of Liberation
When King Frederich Wilhelm III sent out his call for the German people to rise in 1812, and called for the creation of a landwehr, Johan was one of the most adamant supporters of the revolution and quickly rushed back home to Silesia. Back home Johan wasted no time, and with the help of his father and older brother, began mobilizing the people in and around Breslau, calling for them to come join and fight the French. Together they rounded up well over a thousand men, and gather with other men from around Silesia to form the Silesian landwehr. The men from in and around Breslau were numbered 4th in line of the Silesain landwehr regiments. Johan's father Reinhardt was made Major of the First Battalion. His older Brother Heinrich was made Kapitain of B Kompanie. As for Johan, he was made PremierLeutnant of the 1. Zug 1. Battalion. The brave Silesians were low on equipment and weapons, but high in spirit. Marching on to meet with the rest of the army of the 6th coalition the 4. Silesian landwehr was attached to the army of Silesia, 7th Brigade, along with the 15. Silesian Landwehr and 3 battalions of the Leib Infanterie regiment. Over the summer of 1813 the 4th was trained by the Leib regiment until their soldiers were just as ready for battle as the footguards.
To Battle
Meeting armies of the 6th Coalition the Prussian army marched from Wartenburg to meet Napoleon on the field at Leipzig. Part of the 380,000 fallied force, the 7th Brigade was initially held in reserve. Johan surveyed the battlefield, awed by it's sheer scale and horrible destruction. Having never seen combat before, Johan was sick at his first sight of a Russian soldier, torn in two by a cannon ball. Two days after the start of the battle, on October 18th 1813, 30,000 men of the Silesian army were moved to the front by the Parthe River to reinforce Langeron's Russians. The 7th Brigade was called upon to be some of those reinforcements. The next day the Prussian reinforcements were sent forward to capture Leipzig, and to prevent a french escape. The 7th Brigade was in the second wave of attackers to attempt to pry Leipzig from the French. On the Chilly morning, Johan lined his platoon in front of the village, calming his men, although he himself was shaking to the bone. Just a few hundred meters away, the dying groans of hundreds of men could be heard, an endless chorus of agony amid the thundering artillery. After what seemed like hours, the order to advance was given, and the 4th Regiment began it's slow methodical advance to Leipzig. Just seconds after the advance was started, prussian Fusiliers were sent forward to harry the French; With bullets cracking all around then the men of 1. Zug advanced, unwavering, at 150 meters the first man as sent tumbling to the floor as a bullet lodged itself in his gut, the unteroffizers yelled to close the gaps and the march continued. Soon the dull thud of bullets hitting their targets became a familiar sound, as more and more men fell out of line. At 60 meters, when Johan could begin to make out the facial features of the men shooting from behind the barricades, he ordered the charge. A deafening cry went up as the Silesians were let free, individual clumps of men began charging individual ad-hoc fortresses. All over Men in blue and yellow climbed over thrown together barricades, bayoneting the weary defends where they stood. Elated by the charge at the barricade Johan rallied a dozen men around him and charged a house holding a collection of Frenchman and Poles, spanning a dozen different regiments. The door was barred by a stout Polish sergeant, who had a missing tooth and a unruly mustache on his upper lip. His face frozen in a snarl Johan lowered his pistol and fired it point-blank into the Poles open mouth. Spraying gore on the wall behind him, the Pole offered an opportunity for the men surrounding Johan to charge the door and effortlessly make short work of the cramped French and Polish defenders in the hovel. Johann was in shock, not believing that he took the man's life. The trance as broken quickly when one Johan's unteroffiziers forcefully pulled him into the blood soaked cottage. As Johan looked out the small window of the hovel, he was blown backwards by a massive explosion. Ears ringing he looked up to see the bridge prematurely detonated, leaving thousands of French dead, and thousands more stranded. Aware of how hopeless the situation was, the Frenchmen on the wrong side of the river quickly gave up their arms, and surrendered to the Prussians.
The Battle of Leipzig was won.
More to come tommorrow night!
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My guy was a sheep fondler, who fondled sheep and loved getting his white beard really into the wool. He was shot while going into Johan's room while looking for sheep to fondle and it's why Mack doesn't play NW anymore
The End
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Abii would smash down trees with his head and eat raw meat for fun.
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My guy was a sheep fondler, who fondled sheep and loved getting his white beard really into the wool. He was shot while going into Johan's room while looking for sheep to fondle and it's why Mack doesn't play NW anymore
The End
Haha that was wonderful Mack, thank you, I haven't laughed that hard in a while. :)
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Thomas Gordon Baker
Born on January 21st, 1884, Thomas Baker was the eldest son in an Irish American family of seven, he lived with his five brothers Jacob, Lawrence, Andrew, Matthew, and Stanley and his father Patrick and his mother Alice. At a young age Thomas grew ill with scarlet fever and was not expected to live. His fever broke and he continued on with his life. He went to school in a small town in Minden, a small town in Western Iowa, where he received very good marks. He had a dream of being an officer in the US Army like his father was in the Civil War, he had dreams of going to West Point, he applied himself wholly in everything he did and asked his father to speak with a senator about him attending west point. The hard work paid off as he was accepted into West Point at the age of twenty three. For the next four years he perfected the art of tactics, combat, movement, and admittedly charming ladies.
The War Years
On May 19th of 1911 Thomas Gordon Baker was awarded the rank of Infantry Captain. In 1917 the United States entered the Great War and and Thomas was stationed in Kansas. When the Big Red One was being formed he was put on a list to be a major in that Division. He was stationed with the 16th Regiment, 1st Infantry Division, they trained for months preparing for the war. When they arrived in France there was much fanfare and Thomas was badly wounded in the first action a Cantigny, a fragment struck him in the shin invalidating him for combat. He refused to leave France and took the occupation of quartermaster at the headquarters. Each day he would see lines of men returning from the front, sullen, battered, bloodied. He wished to return to the Front as his sense of personal responsibility for his men was more crippling than his wound. He returned back to the Front and his unit in time for the Meuse-Argonne offensive where he spent the final days of the war. Upon returning home he felt distant from his family and grew tired of the chatter of how heroic he was.
After the War
Two years after his return from France, Thomas met Angela Crawford, a woman whose brother was killed at the Marne, they were married in 1927 and had three children, Jacob, Andrea, and Steven. Jacob was named for Thomas' youngest brother killed in the Argonne, and Steven for his spouses' elder brother. They had twelve grandchildren and saw 40 years of peaceful marriage. In January of 1967 Thomas had a stroke and on February 12th 1967 he was laid to rest. In a Cemetery outside of Marne, Iowa.
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This seems like more creative/alt history sort of stuff and to prevent the serious types and the comedy types from getting into conflict I am moving this over to ~Media~.
Get those creative juices flowing now.
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*Eagerly awaiting Thundersnow*
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my name is stark ples
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Thomas Gordon Baker
Born on January 21st, 1884, Thomas Baker was the eldest son in an Irish American family of seven, he lived with his five brothers Jacob, Lawrence, Andrew, Matthew, and Stanley and his father Patrick and his mother Alice. At a young age Thomas grew ill with scarlet fever and was not expected to live. His fever broke and he continued on with his life. He went to school in a small town in Minden, a small town in Western Iowa, where he received very good marks. He had a dream of being an officer in the US Army like his father was in the Civil War, he had dreams of going to West Point, he applied himself wholly in everything he did and asked his father to speak with a senator about him attending west point. The hard work paid off as he was accepted into West Point at the age of twenty three. For the next four years he perfected the art of tactics, combat, movement, and admittedly charming ladies.
The War Years
On May 19th of 1911 Thomas Gordon Baker was awarded the rank of Infantry Captain. In 1917 the United States entered the Great War and and Thomas was stationed in Kansas. When the Big Red One was being formed he was put on a list to be a major in that Division. He was stationed with the 16th Regiment, 1st Infantry Division, they trained for months preparing for the war. When they arrived in France there was much fanfare and Thomas was badly wounded in the first action a Cantigny, a fragment struck him in the shin invalidating him for combat. He refused to leave France and took the occupation of quartermaster at the headquarters. Each day he would see lines of men returning from the front, sullen, battered, bloodied. He wished to return to the Front as his sense of personal responsibility for his men was more crippling than his wound. He returned back to the Front and his unit in time for the Meuse-Argonne offensive where he spent the final days of the war. Upon returning home he felt distant from his family and grew tired of the chatter of how heroic he was.
After the War
Two years after his return from France, Thomas met Angela Crawford, a woman whose brother was killed at the Marne, they were married in 1927 and had three children, Jacob, Andrea, and Steven. Jacob was named for Thomas' youngest brother killed in the Argonne, and Steven for his spouses' elder brother. They had twelve grandchildren and saw 40 years of peaceful marriage. In January of 1967 Thomas had a stroke and on February 12th 1967 he was laid to rest. In a Cemetery outside of Marne, Iowa.
Wow! That's really cool! It feels incredibly accurate! :)
If you don't have a real story, or any valuable input, stop commenting on this thread.
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Seriously, be creative. If your going to be funny put some effort into it like the guys who did their research.
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The Myth of the REJEBORN
Part One: Dark Beginnings
The year was 1779, and it was a dark and thunderous night in Winchester, England. A young woman, swollen with pregnancy, and her male friend had camped in a stable near an inn, which was unfortunately full. While she was in labour, three wise guys came to the stable, weighed down by treasure chests of gold and gifts. They said that they had come to offer gifts to the King of the Blobmanians, and they had followed the brightest star of a new constellation of a mushroom cloud to reach their destination. Unfortunately for the wise men, the inhabitants of the nearby inn, and the mother and “just a friend”, the baby that was soon born was absurdly violent and slew them all. The incident became known to locals as the East Winchester Massacre, and was a great mystery.
The psychotic infant crawled away from the scene, and while crawling, slipped down a steep cliff into the great Antarctic Ocean. For most newborn children, this would have been a one-way journey, but there was a pod of great white sharks at the scene, and having seen his feats of battle at the stable, they admired his ferocity and took him under their wing.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fimg513.imageshack.us%2Fimg513%2F7123%2Fegki.png&hash=860be88af5f9981c8682b0c6c905a77fcb6a2264)
Killington’s baby pictures
The child was raised by those sharks into a peerless predator, and by the age of 14 he completed his test of manhood by sinking a frigate with a number of well-placed punches and bites.
It was this feat that caused the King of Britannia, Duke Wellington, to take notice of the shark population in the Antarctic Channel separating the great island nation from France. For years, the body of water had been infested, to the point of making swimming a recklessly dangerous activity, and there was already a 100 schilling bounty on any shark caught in those waters. Duke Wellington increased the bounty to 500 schillings, in an effort to reduce the population and make the area safe again, but this only increased the frequency of attacks; there were more fishermen hunting the sharks, but with the child at the sharks’ lead, the fishermen were the hunted.
Annoyed at the failure of the bounty, Duke Wellington rounded up the best of the best in the field, and went out himself to hunt down the sharks. He commissioned a special ironclad ship, which the sharks could not possibly bite through. Indeed, the sharks could not penetrate the metallic hull, and they instead circled the ship, while the child climbed aboard to slay the crew. There, he met the Duke, and after he slew the entire crew, he casually remarked that the Duke needed a bigger boat. The Duke recognized the incredible talent for slaughter held by this boy, and offered to adopt him and train as his own. The boy accepted, and was christened Bicep Danger Killington, in honour of the many he had killed. Without the leadership of the boy, the shark attacks returned to the previous levels, and the channel was safe once more.
Duke Wellington sent the boy to the Royal St. McEwan Kill-Deathing Military Academy in London. Unfortunately, young Bicep was involved with a number of “accidents” that were gratuitously fatal for others involved. Despite his and the Duke’s assurances that they were only accidents, he was very near to being expelled for his indiscriminate killings.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.circlecinema.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2012%2F01%2FBattle-Royale-Fro1.jpg&hash=2de07b9db3a4c10f28eb4c09a431ca0342ac9ed9)
Modern Dramatized Biopic of Killington’s School Days
Part Two: Total War
Luckily, in 1803 Napoleon declared war on the civilized world of Britannia, Russia, Prussia, and the Netherlands. The Duke of Wellington formed the 25th “Wellington’s Fist” Regiment of Foot Horse, led by the Second-Lieutenant-Adjutant-Colonel Killington. Throughout the war, the 25th Regiment of Foot Horse was the premier fighting force of the Coalition.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fimg571.imageshack.us%2Fimg571%2F4468%2Fdyyo.png&hash=41a278d05a4732cf4398b4cbc31312dc4b13ad33)
Our historians actually have no idea who he’s stabbing, but whoever they are, they obviously got on the wrong side of Democracy
Killington was known for his brutal tactics, driving his troops to their physical limits and beyond, and he was a master of psychological warfare. He never took prisoners, and when he captured an enemy general, he always fought them one on one with bayonets.
In 1815, Napoleon and his generals marched on Quatre-Bas, where they were met by the forces of the Coalition, and the 25th Regiment of Foot Horse performed quite bravely. It was during this battle that a cannonball was fired directly at the Duke Wellington. Killington was by his side, and having saw the projectile incoming, he stabbed the cannonball with his bayonetted-sword and deflected it towards General Ney.
This saved the Duke Wellington and killed Ney, but alas the sword shattered in the deed, and a splinter damaged the hero’s eye beyond repair. In celebration of his heroism, after the battle Killington found the corpse of Ney and devoured his heart to absorb Ney's power.
Unfortunately this brutality did not bode entirely well for him. Napoleon’s spy network was all throughout the Coalition, and they exacerbated existing rumours that declared Killington to be a demon. Of course this was true, and did indeed explain the man’s glorious combat capability, and despite the hundreds of constables slain in the attempt, the Second-Lieutenant-Adjutant-Colonel was captured, and was set to be burned at the stake. Tragically, the instant that he was lit, there was a bright flash, instantly followed by a great shockwave and searing heat. The crowd that had gathered to watch was slain by the explosion, as were the rest of the 25th Regiment of Foot Horse, who had come to see off their glorious commander. No remains of Killington were ever found at the explosion site.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fimg.gawkerassets.com%2Fimg%2F1813aqov5wc2jjpg%2Fku-xlarge.jpg&hash=352296f40f061156cf0a46fcd830161689a59ec7)
We don’t get it either
With the greatest bayonet-fighter and commander of men the world had ever seen "dead", Napoleon had little difficulty in the war, winning countless victory after victory against the allied forces. As a desperate tactic, Austrian occult scientists developed a zombie plague, and it destroyed the French forces almost single-handedly in a month’s time.
The coalition rejoiced, but it was soon apparent that the Austrians would not stop there, they intended to conquer the world with their new super-weapon.
At the behest of their Austrian masters, the zombies ravaged the countryside of continental Europe, and they had reached Waterloo, where the remnants of the Prussian, British, and Dutch forces waited to die with honour.
In the peak of the battle, as men from both sides fell to the ravaging appetite of the Zombie partisans, it is said that Wellington did say aloud, "If there be any god, may he aid us in our plight and lend us a hand to kill these Zombie bastards."
Part Three: The Second Coming
According to the few surviving eyewitnesses, Mt. Winchester, the tallest mountain in the world, then exploded in a thunderous eruption, unleashing a small brigade of hellish warriors, the reborn Killington at their lead. He preached of the word of the Rejenorst, and he muted all those who denied the power of Reje.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fimg31.imageshack.us%2Fimg31%2F7670%2Fdp7g.png&hash=3293ee9be513b533ba7d05fc8b023e2fbd62d92d)
It went a little something like this
After the zombie horde had been destroyed, Rejeington (for that was his new name) did appear before Wellington and he slapped him in the face for not supporting him when he was rightfully accused of his demonic nature.
Wellington and a few of their supporters were exiled to Elba, and Rejeington assumed the presidency of the British Empire.
Within a week, the zombies had been driven out of Belgium, and the Coalition, under the command of President Bicep Danger Rejeington, was marching through continental Europe with the ultimate goal of sieging Vienna.
The war was going well, the army of Rejeington used their Reje-given strength and tactics to crush the overwhelming numbers of the Austrian zombies.
During the liberation of France, the campaign took a tragic turn. 'Twas the Battle of Paris (the archaic name of the modern French capital of Rejeis), but just before it began, the exiled Wellington returned from his exile with a fresh and extremely large force of trained zombie warriors, under the banner of the false god; Blobmania, and flanked the honourable gentlemen of the Rejeistan Brits.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fimg38.imageshack.us%2Fimg38%2F9784%2Fdsxi.png&hash=a9fda1deac8d39bc5f3ebf05d3b6f3b0db822134)
Artist’s representation
In that battle, Rejeington personally slew both Wellington and Karl Philipp, but defeat was inevitable. The Austro-Anglo-Zombie forces won a pyrrhic victory that day, but the body of Rejeington was never found.
Begin Listening to this Now.
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpPFoS_PCPc[/youtube]
However, in the new Austro-Anglo-Zombie Empire that mainland Europe became, there arose a number of rumours of a shadowy warrior, ambushing caravans and slaying Zombies, Russians, Britons, and French with impunity.
In darkly lit corners of taverns, and in the alleys where none can overhear, weary travelers talk of Him. “They should have acted” they say. “He’s already here, the Rejeistan scrolls told of His return.”
When children misbehave, their parents warn them of Him, for His defeat, was merely delay, of the time after Europe had fallen; after the Zombies of Austria would topple a civilization.
But no one wanted to believe, believe he even existed, and when the truth finally dawns, it dawns in fire. There is none He fears.
In the Austrian tongue, He is 'Canadian'.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fimg850.imageshack.us%2Fimg850%2F6036%2Fp9yh.png&hash=06215d1010411c73897fc41a56efdf246c1ebace)
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Howe- A tale of revolution, war, and adventure
In 1793, Howe was born of a mule after it shit itself from hearing the Siege of Toulon. Thinking the spawn was just fecal matter, the mule left Howe for dead. A French soldier picked up Howe, seeing past his shit layer. After the battle and one bullet in the soldier's shoulder, the frog brought Howe to Connecticut, USA to escape war-torn Europe. There Howe grew up happy as a well-mannered Christian. It wasn't until 1813 that his life changed forever.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fnapoleonbonaparte.files.wordpress.com%2F2008%2F01%2Fblog-bonaparte-a-toulon.jpg&hash=eca35a14ca489faab412baf936f9667116c801b2)
Howe's humble birthplace
On November 20th, 1813, new ideas from Europe were arriving in America. At the Bridgeport dock, a book seemed gleam among all the others. Going against his principles, he stole the book. It wasn't until he reached Hartford that he realized what the book was. It was Karl Marx's "Communist Manifesto", which seemed to have come from the not-to-distant future. Howe read the book day and night, embracing new atheistic and socialist ideals. At the age of only 11, Howe came out to his father as a proud Atheist Socialist. His father whipped and beat the boy bloody. After, Howe ran away across war-torn America, joining the ranks of Andrew Jackson.
(https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSqm6LmPjhBH0dHihNwi9CxCRxxGXb9mANV6bmrPDx_XwjN-20irA)
Accurate depiction
In 1814, it was official, Howe was in Andrew Jackson's army. He was an obedient soldier, keeping his ideology to himself and obeying orders. One day, Jackson landed upon a Creek village and vowed to plunder it. Howe walked up to Jackson, declaring the slaughter unprovoked and morally wrong. Jackson simply replied, "bugger that, kill the injuns!". Howe ran soon after those words into the woods being chased by American infantrymen. The men formed a firing line as Howe ran and fired their volley but it missed and Howe miraculously escaped.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.warof1812.ca%2Fimage%2Fpd433a.jpg&hash=d8f23ca2c958e24a0628d89cf98bb7140b61760d)
Howe escaped this!
A deserted and well-renowned coward, Howe escaped to Europe only to find more violence. After Napoleon's defeat by Wellington in 1815, Howe saw his chance to climb the ladder politically in weakened France. He did just this, becoming an outspoken atheist and revolutionary for many years. It is thought his words inspired the infamous 1830 Revolutions in Paris. He quickly joined the revolutionary army as an aspiring officer. But in the streets of Paris as he lead an assault on royalists, he was taken captive by British spies.
(https://www.mtholyoke.edu/courses/rschwart/hist255/kat_anna/1830%20copy.jpg)
See Howe leading the glorious firing line?
Howe was to be transported to Britain to face English punishment. Upon his arrival, Howe managed to escape and fled to the Welsh countryside. He was thought to be dead but finally in 1840, he lead another glorious revolution against the English. Defeat after defeat had the Brits running all the way to London.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.1zoom.net%2Fbig2%2F494%2F242782-stranger.jpg&hash=b3ed2de5d45bf88560b7adf10b89f5b1cfa37b8e)
Howe's army emulated that of Napoleon's. Here is the infamous "Fighting Howe" Regiment fighting in the streets of London
It was in the streets of London where Howe's revolution met its end. The British held and destroyed Howe's army but failed to capture Howe himself. Howe was making his way to Prussia. He finally arrived but in one day in 1849, he had the oddest desire to check the publication of his "Communist Manifesto". He realized that this book was meant to published soon and so he set out to meet its creator, Karl Marx. Eventually, he found the man and revealed his story as a failed revolutionary. Karl Marx enlisted the middle-aged Howe as one of his first followers. In 1852, Howe set out with a small company of 100 socialists. As he marched towards Berlin, he gained almost 1,000 socialist soldiers. There, in front of Berlin, Howe demanded the government surrender itself to socialism. The government denied and sallied forth its troops. 60,000 Prussians faced Howe's 1,000 socialist soldiers. On January 13th, 1853, the Prussians attacked eagerly. Howe repelled each and every attack the Prussians threw at him. Eventually, his forces were whittled down to 300 men but he repulsed the attack of 10,000 Prussians. The Prussian army was destroyed and Howe marched into Berlin, flying his proud socialist flag.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.fortress-scandinavia.dk%2FSlesvigske-krige%2Fimages%2FTropper_1849.jpg&hash=4d65dd7c2a82d47ac252804032e33feeca2a2e8b)
Howe marches his 300 men into Berlin.
It was in Berlin that Howe established his socialist paradise. On July 4th, 1860, the old Howe was assassinated by Nationalistic rebels known as Tibbert and Weave. The two stabbed the old man as he walked to his modest house and attempted a coup. The coup failed as angry peasants and soldiers torn the two apart in the streets.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fimages.bridgemanart.com%2Fapi%2F1.0%2Fimage%2F600wm.DGA.5696260.7055475%2F623786.jpg&hash=2b18f829ee8312ec8ac49df83508f3a89b55a638)
The assassination of Howe. Statesman, soldier, revolutionary, and leader.
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Spoiler
The Myth of the REJEBORN
Part One: Dark Beginnings
The year was 1779, and it was a dark and thunderous night in Winchester, England. A young woman, swollen with pregnancy, and her male friend had camped in a stable near an inn, which was unfortunately full. While she was in labour, three wise guys came to the stable, weighed down by treasure chests of gold and gifts. They said that they had come to offer gifts to the King of the Blobmanians, and they had followed the brightest star of a new constellation of a mushroom cloud to reach their destination. Unfortunately for the wise men, the inhabitants of the nearby inn, and the mother and “just a friend”, the baby that was soon born was absurdly violent and slew them all. The incident became known to locals as the East Winchester Massacre, and was a great mystery.
The psychotic infant crawled away from the scene, and while crawling, slipped down a steep cliff into the great Antarctic Ocean. For most newborn children, this would have been a one-way journey, but there was a pod of great white sharks at the scene, and having seen his feats of battle at the stable, they admired his ferocity and took him under their wing.
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fimg513.imageshack.us%2Fimg513%2F7123%2Fegki.png&hash=860be88af5f9981c8682b0c6c905a77fcb6a2264)
Killington’s baby pictures
The child was raised by those sharks into a peerless predator, and by the age of 14 he completed his test of manhood by sinking a frigate with a number of well-placed punches and bites.
It was this feat that caused the King of Britannia, Duke Wellington, to take notice of the shark population in the Antarctic Channel separating the great island nation from France. For years, the body of water had been infested, to the point of making swimming a recklessly dangerous activity, and there was already a 100 schilling bounty on any shark caught in those waters. Duke Wellington increased the bounty to 500 schillings, in an effort to reduce the population and make the area safe again, but this only increased the frequency of attacks; there were more fishermen hunting the sharks, but with the child at the sharks’ lead, the fishermen were the hunted.
Annoyed at the failure of the bounty, Duke Wellington rounded up the best of the best in the field, and went out himself to hunt down the sharks. He commissioned a special ironclad ship, which the sharks could not possibly bite through. Indeed, the sharks could not penetrate the metallic hull, and they instead circled the ship, while the child climbed aboard to slay the crew. There, he met the Duke, and after he slew the entire crew, he casually remarked that the Duke needed a bigger boat. The Duke recognized the incredible talent for slaughter held by this boy, and offered to adopt him and train as his own. The boy accepted, and was christened Bicep Danger Killington, in honour of the many he had killed. Without the leadership of the boy, the shark attacks returned to the previous levels, and the channel was safe once more.
Duke Wellington sent the boy to the Royal St. McEwan Kill-Deathing Military Academy in London. Unfortunately, young Bicep was involved with a number of “accidents” that were gratuitously fatal for others involved. Despite his and the Duke’s assurances that they were only accidents, he was very near to being expelled for his indiscriminate killings.
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Modern Japanese Dramatized Biopic of Killington’s School Days
Part Two: Savage Warfare
Luckily, in 1803 Napoleon declared war on the civilized world of Britannia, Russia, Prussia, and the Netherlands. The Duke of Wellington formed the 25th “Wellington’s Fist” Regiment of Foot Horse, led by the Second-Lieutenant-Adjutant-Colonel Killington. Throughout the war, the 25th Regiment of Foot Horse was the premier fighting force of the Coalition.
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Our historians actually have no idea who he’s stabbing, but whoever they are, they obviously got on the wrong side of Democracy
Killington was known for his brutal tactics, driving his troops to their physical limits and beyond, and he was a master of psychological warfare. He never took prisoners, and when he captured an enemy general, he always fought them one on one with bayonets.
In 1815, Napoleon and his generals marched on Quatre-Bas, where they were met by the forces of the Coalition, and the 25th Regiment of Foot Horse performed quite bravely. It was during this battle that a cannonball was fired directly at the Duke Wellington. Killington was by his side, and having saw the projectile incoming, he stabbed the cannonball with his bayonetted-sword and deflected it towards General Ney.
This saved the Duke Wellington and killed Ney, but alas the sword shattered in the deed, and a splinter damaged the hero’s eye beyond repair. In celebration of his heroism, after the battle Killington found the corpse of Ney and devoured heart to absorb his power.
Unfortunately this brutality did not bode entirely well for him. Napoleon’s spy network was all throughout the Coalition, and they exacerbated existing rumours that declared Killington to be a devil. Of course this was true, and did indeed explain the man’s glorious combat capability, and despite the hundreds of constables slain the attempt, the Second-Lieutenant-Adjutant-Colonel was captured, and was set to be burned at the stake. Tragically, the instant that he was lit, there was a bright flash, instantly followed by a great shockwave and searing heat. The crowd that had gathered to watch was slain by the explosion, as were the rest of the 25th Regiment of Foot Horse, who had come to see off their glorious commander. No remains of Killington were ever found at the explosion site.
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We don’t either
With the greatest bayonet-fighter and commander of men the world had ever seen "dead", Napoleon had little difficulty in the war, winning countless victory after victory against the allied forces. As a desperate tactic, Austrian occult scientists developed a zombie plague, and it destroyed the French forces almost single-handedly in a month’s time.
The coalition rejoiced, but it was soon apparent that the Austrians would not stop there, they intended to conquer the world with their new super-weapon.
At the behest of their Russian masters, the zombies ravaged the countryside of continental Europe, and they had reached Waterloo, where the remnants of the Prussian, British, and Dutch forces waited to die with honour.
In the peak of the battle, as men from both sides fell to the ravaging appetite of the Zombie partisans, it is said that Wellington did say aloud, "If there be any god, may he aid us in our plight and lend us a hand to kill these Zombie bastards."
Part Three: Second Coming
According to the few surviving eyewitnesses, Mt. Winchester, the tallest mountain in the world, then exploded in a thunderous eruption, unleashing a small brigade of hellish warriors, the reborn Killington at their lead. He preached of the word of the Rejenorst, and he muted all those who denied the power of Reje.
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It went a little something like this
After the zombie horde had been destroyed, Rejeington (for that was his new name) did appear before Wellington and he slapped him in the face for not supporting him when he was rightfully accused of his demonic nature.
Wellington and a few of their supporters were exiled to Elba, and Rejeington assumed the presidency of the British Empire.
Within a week, the zombies had been driven out of Belgium, and the Coalition, under the command of President Bicep Danger Rejeington, was marching through continental Europe with the ultimate goal of sieging Vienna.
The war was going well, the army of Rejeington used their Reje-given strength and tactics to crush the overwhelming numbers of the Austrian zombies.
During the liberation of France, the campaign took a tragic turn. 'Twas the Battle of Paris (the archaic name of the modern French capital of Rejeis), but just before it began, the exiled Wellington returned from his exile with a fresh and extremely large force of trained zombie warriors, under the banner of the false god; Blobmania, and flanked the honourable gentleman of the Rejeistan Brits.
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Artist’s representation
In that battle, Rejeington personally slew both Wellington and Karl Philipp, but defeat was inevitable. The Austro-Anglo-Zombie forces won a pyrrhic victory that day, but the body of Rejeington was never found.
Begin Listening to this Now.
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2-_g8NZr1tA[/youtube]
However, in the new Austro-Anglo-Zombie Empire that mainland Europe became, there arose a number of rumours of a shadowy warrior, ambushing caravans and slaying Zombies, Russians, Britons, and French with impunity.
In darkly lit corners of taverns, and in the alleys where none can overhear, weary travelers talk of Him. “They should have acted” they say. “He’s already here, the Rejeistan scrolls told of His return.”
When children misbehave, their parents warn them of Him, for His defeat, was merely delay, of the time after Europe had fallen; after the Zombies of Austria would topple a civilization.
But no one wanted to believe, believe he even existed, and when the truth finally dawns, it dawns in fire. There is none He fears.
In the Austrian tongue, He is 'Canadian'.
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I am so fucking done... OMG! I have never laughed so hard in my entire life! I am thinking of what to write for mine...
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Not exactly how I thought this thread should go.. But these are hysterical.
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Very nice ;D
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making my post soon :)
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Great Read William! What a hero! ;D
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hes more a anti-hero but thank you none the less
P.s when i have the time ill make a my story better and with better grammer xD
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William Aburzzino
Early life
Nico Abruzzino was born in Florence, Italy in 1793. He was born into a military family where his father was made officer as a retirement present by some fat duke. Therefrom, Nico was known as a noble man. He also was not spoiled and his family possessed the same nobility as Nico, however, lacking coin. At the age of 12, Nico was sent to one of the best military academies in Rome by that same fat duke. There, he was taught the skills of a musketeer. Although, he was not trained with a sword, as one would think an officer should. He learnt the musket bayonet tactics, and how to discipline soldiers. After almost two years of learning at the academy in Rome, he graduated early since he was one of the best students. It was as if war was in his blood. Nico was then sent to Milan shortly after graduating to command some counts palace guards. It was a good job, and with average pay, he was his own boss with no problems. Soon, Nico grew bored with the easy task and began thinking to himself, "Why was I sent here? How could a soldier like me not fight?" He began to break down, he could no longer drill these men, nor wake up at dawn. Instead, he spent his coin on wine, whores and gambling. He was getting in trouble with the law, and having spent one more night in jail for sleeping with the counts wife, life was rough thereafter. Nico was in a dilemma, and he knew it. He would often question himself, “Why not just go and join an army that is at war?" He knew this question was a great question, however, he only had two options: join the French Army as an officer, which was led by Napoleon, and conquer Europe. Alternatively, join the British where they were not fairing off so well against the French, but were making a step to begin an invasion of Spain. Moreover, there was something about fighting with the underdog, and those shiny redcoats that made Nico chose Britain, over France.
War years
In 1810, Nico changed his name to William to sound more English. After reaching London, William went straight to the horse guard, which at the time was the Headquarters of the entire British army. After explaining to the desk sergeant in broken English, he was able to explain to him that he was an Italian officer that had come to join the British army. After the sergeant had stopped laughing at this young man in his green uniform, he went to talk to his officer. When he left, an officer came up to William at started talking to him in Italian asking him if he really wanted to join the British army. This British officer was no nobleman, but a soldier. Nico could see from his expression, and from his hard black eyes that he had been all over Europe fighting for King George. William, still young and ignorant, answered him with anger. “Why of course I do. Why do you suppose I am here? Someone has to help the British army learn how to fight.” The officer began to laugh, he commented, “I am Colonel Hugonaut, but you can call me Hugo. I’m in command of the 29th Worcestershire Regiment of Foot, and I have just returned from America with my regiment. I’m here for some fresh new officers, and you look like a man who wants to get their feet wet.” William hopes rose a tenfold with Hugo’s words. He responded, “Yes sir! I would very much like to join your regiment, sir!” Hugo replied, “Splendid, I will go talk to Wellington about your commission, Ensign.”
So began William’s transition into the British army. He traded in his Italian uniform for a red one, and life in the British army suited him well even as a mere Ensign. It was much better than guarding some fat counts home. William’s task was to train the new company, which suited him well since the rest of the regiment were veterans and he was not. William’s English improved during those first two months drilling the men. He was now able to have full conversations with his company, with some help from Col. Hugo. However, everything changed after word got back to division that they were going to invade occupied Spain.
Once in Spain, he was involved with every engagement. He fought at the Third Battle of Ushant, The Battle of Roliça, The Battle of Vimeiro, The Battle of Grijo, The Battle of Talavera, and The Battle of Albuera. Talavera was the battle where William received a cut on his face from 1er Régiment de Polish Lanciers de la Garde Impériale and the battle where he received his promotion to Captain due to the lack of officers. After his actions in Spain, the 29th were sent back to England to recruit more men. There were talks that they were going back to Spain to help with the invasion France, but that was all shattered when the Americans decided to go to war with Britain. Since most of the British army was in Spain and India, the 29th were sent to fight in America. There were stationed as garrison units in British North Armerica. However, when Napoleon Bonaparte had broken out of exile from Elba, the 29th were sent back to Britain than to France, ready to fight. Once the 29th were established and ready, Wellington sent them to Waterloo. Although, when they arrived at the battle, it was already over.
Last Fight
After arriving to Waterloo, and seeing thousands of bodies littering the battlefield, William gave a quick smile for he was glad he chose the British army and not the French. However, he was also sad that the war was over. He could go and fight in Italy for they were in a civil war since Napoleon left. Although, there were rumors that the 29th were going to be downsized in number when they got back to Britian, and William was certain that he was going to be discharged simply because he was not English. In addition, if he were to be discharged, his loot was not going to be enough to retire on. Thus, he went out onto the battlefield, and began looting the dead. Sadly, there was next to none loot to collect. A Prussian soldier came up to William and look excited about something, he told William that he needed his help with something. His name was Jorvasker from the 1st East Prussian Infantry, and he knew where to find some great treasure. Napoleon had left in a hurry, and was trying to escape from being capture and forgot his gold in the process. In addition, this Prussian knew where it was. He said an Old Guard had told him. William decided it was worth the risk and helped this Prussian. After following for what seemed to be forever, they came to a tavern that seemed alive with drunken soldiers. After getting closer, he could see they were French soldiers from the 63e. All of them where drunk. They were talking about how they had all the gold in the world. When William walked in, there were five of them at a table near the far corner of the room. In a plan that I had made with the Prussian Jorvasker, I walked straight into the tavern wearing a cloak hiding my musket. I then ordered my drink, and went over to the table. The leader of the group was a French Colonel by the name of Karth and he asked William, “Where are you from my friend? Your French sounds funny.” William replied that he was an Italian. Karth then asked what brought him so far north. William looked straight at karth and said. “I’ve came here to steal your gold my friend.” All of the Frenchmen stopped talking, and looked straight at William. Then William started to laugh, and the Frenchmen began to laugh too, letting down their guard. Quickly, William tore off his cloak and raised his musket at the first Frenchman’s heart that stood up and fired. The Frenchman thudded against the wall, and went down dead. The four other Frenchmen quickly got out of there seats, reached for their weapons, but another gunshot went off. This time from the staircase, another Frenchman went down with a thud. The man who shot that shot, was Jorvasker. However, there were still two Frenchmen left and Karth simply sat in his chair and watched. The other two French men pulled out their swords and charged William, but with a quick throw of his musket like a javelin, the musket struck one of the Frenchmen in the chest and went down he went. The last one charged with his sword, and he slashed wildly at William who just back peddled until he was back near his musket sticking out of the dead Frenchmen. Pulling the musket out of the dead man and in one fast motion, spun around, stuck the bayonet into the last Frenchman’s chest, and pushed him back against the wall. The Frenchmen was still alive and still trying to slash William, but William was out of reach and after a while, the Frenchman went still. William then backed away, leaving the musket in the Frenchman’s chest. Turning back to Karth, who was still sitting in his chair he let out a sigh and said, “I'm sure we can work out a deal, I suppose” William though about it for a second and said, “If you tell me where the treasure is, I wont stab you, sounds good?” Karth could see from William’s expression that he was not joking, and responded, “It’s in the barn out back in the wagon.” William then sent Jorvasker out to the barn to see if he was telling the truth, which he was. William then turned his back to Karth and said, “You are free to go my friend.” Both Jorvasker and William began heading to the barn when they heard a cocking of a pistol it was Karth’s pistol. Pointing a Harpers Ferry Model 1803 pistol straight at them he fired his shot, and died. William waited for the smoke to clear, and realized that it was not Karth who fired, but a man sitting at the back of the tavern. William said, “Thank you for your help. Do you by any chance want any of the gold?” the man sat back into his chair looked at Karth’s body, and said to William, “No, I don't want the gold. It was reward to kill him.” The stranger began walking to the door when William stopped him, “Stranger, what’s your name? The stranger replied, “The names Blitz, Blitz the Pirate, and I’ll see you in hell.” After that, William and Jovasker were on their way back to camp when a gunshot went off, and William went crashing to the ground. After regaining consciousness, William could hear laughter from Jorvasker who thinking William had died. “Silly Italian, you really though I was going to split this with you?” He cracked the whip, and the wagon began to move with him still laughing. William used his entire strength to get onto his knee to fire his shot straight at Jorvasker’s back. However, his vision began to blur, and he was losing consciences. Knowing that he was, William fired and fell over unconscious.
When William woke up, he was in a tent. It was dark and he saw there was a man sitting on a chair near him in prayer it seemed. William began to speak and the man raised his head, it was Hugo he said, “you gave me a damn fine scare you bastard. Any who, I've got a few things I want to ask you: why did we find you half dead, near the road, beside this dead Prussian, near a wagon full of French gold?” William told him the whole story and Hugo, after listening, got up and said, “Hmm, all I heard was that you found a lot of loot, and where coming back when you fell off your wagon.” William then asked his questions, he asked for his discharge papers, he asked how to donate to the widows of the 29th, and he asked if he could donate one million pounds of gold to the regiment. After mustering out, and leaving behind one million pounds of gold for the regiment, William began his long journey back to Italy thinking of how many houses he was going to buy for his family, yet to come.
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I swear on my mum William that everything you talk about outside the 29th thread is insulting the 63e or someone else lol.
Still its a ''meh'' story overall 6/10
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no insult intented just could not think of any other french regiment
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Ahem. :P
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Ahem. :P
Double Ahem!
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Less talk, more funny/serious Napoleonic era fan fiction.
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James Inglis Hamilton
Early Life
He was born as James Anderson on 4 July 1777 at a camp of the Saratoga Campaign in New York. He was the second son of William Anderson, a Serjeant-Major of the 21st Foot. These were hard times for Hamilton’s parents, who had to endure difficult conditions which culminated in a series of marches through freak snow storms in January 1779 as they arrived in Virginia. The family’s imprisonment was to last until September 1783 when peace was concluded between Britain and America. This was followed by peace with America’s allies, France, Spain and the Dutch Republic, which allowed William and the Convention army to return home to Britain. On his return to Scotland William was honourably discharged from the army, on account of his injury. William decided to settle his family in his home town of Glasgow where he purchased a house opposite the Saracen’s Head Tavern. It was here that Hamilton's life would change forever.
Glasgow
It was not long after, the family had settled into civilian life, that William's commanding officer Major-General James Inglis Hamilton (The General), was riding into Glasgow on bussiness. As he passed the Saracen’s Head Tavern he spotted his old serjeant outside his house playing with his children. During their years of confinement in Virginia the General had got to know William and his family well. The General drew his carriage up in front of his old comrade’s home and reintroduced himself to William,his wife and their children.
This would be the first of many visits by the General, who on one of the occasions took Hamilton back to his estate at Murdostoun where he introduced the boy to his beautiful sister, Christina Hamilton. Christina was a spinster, a self-imposed situation after the man she loved died and she vowed in her terrible grief never to love another.
Over time the brother and sister grew so attached to the young family that they agreed to pay for both the boys’ and girls’ education, on condition that they behave themselves and listen to their mother and father. As the General spent more time with the family he formed a particular attachment to Hamilton who was described as possessing a keen mind. This was attested to by one of Hamilton’s friends who described him as one of the best students in the school. The General was so pleased with Hamilton’s studiousness.
Scots Greys
In 1793, as storm clouds gathered over Europe, the General gave Hamilton the opportunity of a lifetime – a commission in the 2nd Royal North British Dragoons.
The General’s acts of generosity were to continue, as he decided to adopt Hamilton and make him his heir, leaving him his entire estate and property on condition that Hamilton behaved himself and proved to be an Officer and a Gentleman. Soon after this disclosure Hamilton left for London to join his regiment. Upon his arrival he was presented to King George III who complimented him on his appearance and revealed his intention to promote the General to Lieutenant-General. Unfortunately Hamilton’s arrival in London was too late for him to join the majority of his regiment which had left for Flanders to serve with the Duke of York on what would become the disastrous Flanders Campaign of 1793-1794.
He rose quickly through the ranks to become a lieutenant on 4th October 1793, captain on the 15th April 1794 and then major on the 17th February 1803. Sadly it was in 1803 that Hamilton suffered a severe blow when his adoptive father, the General, died at his home in Murdostoun Castle. Shortly before his death the General had sent for Hamilton as he wished to have the young man by his side. When the General died Hamilton was at his deathbed.
An Officer and a Gentleman
He did not sit idly on his new found fortune choosing instead to give unselfishly to his adoptive father’s servants and his family, for whom he bought a house in Glasgow, and providing his mother, father and two sisters with an annual income of £500 and a further £300 a year for his brother John. On the death of his parents Hamilton continued to provide the full £500 to his sisters. Hamilton’s generosity in today’s money would have amounted to some £57,000 per year.
Hamilton’s kindness and loyalty to his family are testament to his strength of character, traits we may assume were mirrored in his flourishing military career, which saw him promoted to lieutenant-colonel on the 16th June 1807, followed by his promotion on the 4th June 1814 to the rank of brevet-colonel. Hamilton would, however, have little opportunity to see active service in this new role, as peace was signed between the Coalition and France so his military duties were predominantly peacetime service, including a review in Hyde Park which took place on the 20th June. Some of the guests in attendance were the Prince Regent, Kaiser Friedrich Wilhelm III, Tsar Alexander and the Duke of Wellington, and as the Colonel of the regiment Hamilton was to take part. In 1814 Hamilton married Jane Marshall and the pair settled down together in Bristol, where his regiment was stationed.
War
For Hamilton domestic and peace time bliss was to be short lived, as the 26th February 1815 witnessed Napoleon’s escape from his prison on Elba. Within a month of his return to Paris, he had reinstated himself Emperor of the French. When the news reached the Coalition’s members, the assembled statesmen immediately declared Napoleon an outlaw and set about preparing their armies for what they hoped would be the last time. Britain quickly assembled an expeditionary force to meet the threat from the Continent. Hamilton and the Scots Greys were to be part of this force and were ordered forthwith to Gravesend before departing again to Ostend, Flanders, to join the Anglo-Dutch forces under the Duke of Wellington. Wellington’s army with the aid the Prussian army under Generalfeldmarschall von Blücher, readied themselves to slay “The Ogre” Napoleon.
Soon after his arrival at Ostend in April 1815, Hamilton and the Scots Greys were sent inland where they were billeted near Ghent alongside the 1st (Royal) Regiment of Dragoons and the 6th (Inniskilling) Dragoons. These regiments were grouped together into the 2nd British Cavalry Brigade, known as the Union Brigade, under the command of Major-General Hon. Sir William Ponsonby. The newly formed Union Brigade remained in Ghent awaiting orders.
Waterloo
As the morning of the 18th dawned the sky remained grey and leaden with clouds but thankfully the rain had ceased. At around eleven o’clock, having received his orders earlier in the day, Hamilton drew up his regiment in the centre of the Anglo-Dutch line behind Lieutenant-General Picton’s 5th British Infantry Division.
Within half an hour the guns of the Grande Batterie opened up a tremendous barrage on Wellington’s position. This provided cover for the French to mount an assault against Hougoumont on the Allied right flank. Soon the French opened up on the Anglo-Dutch left where the Greys were stationed. At one o’clock, with Wellington’s focus on the engagement at Hougoumont, the Emperor sent forward Comte d’Erlon’s 1st Corps to move up the eastern side of the Brussels Road with orders to break the centre of Wellington’s line. As the French pressed on up the slope they were raked by artillery fire but their resolve held as they trudged on to the drum and a cry of, “En avant! En avant! Vive l’Empereur!”
*****
Uxbridge rode up to the centre of the battlefield he saw what was unfolding and reacted quickly, ordering the two heavy brigades to form into line and prepare to charge the French. When Uxbridge’s orders reached Hamilton he and his men rode forward into the rear of the 92nd Regiment of Foot. Before them Baron de Marcognet’s 3ème division d'infanterie advanced menacingly towards the British line. When the orders reached Hamilton he interpreted that the best way to support the Royals and Inniskillings was to clear Marcognet’s column from their flank, thereby relieving the pressure on the 92nd.
*****
The next moments proved decisive. The Greys’ attack halted Marcognet’s division. And with that the Greys advanced at little more than a trot passing through the 92nd, whereupon both sides gave the shout, ‘Scotland forever!’ before crashing into the French column. The Greys drove deep into the French formation.
By this point the Greys had reached the French guns where they slashed out wildly at the gunners. With their horses blown the Greys had overreached themselves by closing on the Grande Batterie. The greys rode fearlessly into the Grande Batterie to death into the Grand Battery where Hamilton was shot through the heart by a stray grapeshot.
So ended the life of James Inglis Hamilton, a man of great intelligence, bravery and horsemanship.
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bloody good man
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I was conscripted into military service due to the sheer incredibilosityness of my facial hair. True story
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MEXICO
-Im not that creative
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The Life of William Irvine, Savior of Scotland.
William Irvine was born in the summer of 1783, the son of a poor Scottish farmer and Irish mother and to a family of 4. He spent his life there until the age of 16, after this he ran away from home after stealing the family musket. Wandering aimlessly in the dark he was able to elude the trackers his parents had hired. For 6 months he traveled, musket in hand, clutching it with the only strength he had. Traveling from Scotland he finally reached Dublin where he made a living as a craftsmen. Spending the next three years of his life as an apprentice for an experience craftsmen named Eoin Macloud. Learning how to make different creations he finally settled on the art of gun making. He took pride in his ability to make rifles and sold them for a hefty price to the highest bidder. Amassing a large wealth of over 50000 pounds, he finally retired from craftsmanship and retired to his homeland of Scotland. There he spent his days practicing his shooting with the musket that he had kept for so long. He hunted and lived a life of luxury but this was all to change.
It was the night of November the 8th, 1800. Twas the dead of night when William heard the sound of hooves galloping through the night. Upon hearing this he reached under his bed, grabbed his trusty weapon, and crawled to the windows to see the ruckus. He could not see much but from what he was able to tell it was a messenger, perhaps English in nature from the crest he saw on the mans coat. He dismounted his horse, then grabbed what appeared to be a scoll and walked towards the front of his house. Irvine didn't know what to expect so he did what he had done so often before, he took the initiative. Charging through the door he leveled his musket at the man's chest demanding why he intruded upon his property. Nervously the man explained that he had come to explain that the King was raising a detachment of Scots to form a regiment so that they may help in a new war, one that could jeopardize the entire Island and surrounding areas. Although of shaking loyalties, Irvine knew his duty to his fellow countrymen. Perhaps he could one day help his countrymen to freedom, but for know, he would have to earn his stripes on the plains of battle.
On March the 2nd, 1801, Irvine finally reached London where he enlisted in the British Army. Rumors had spread that a french men had taken all of Italy and inflicted heavy defeats on Austria's armies. Astounded that a french men could do such a thing, for what were they, but failures in his eyes. Unable to free the Scots in the middle ages he saw no reason to destroy them, nor help them. However, he had not come all this way to do nothing. He enlisted and was awarded an officer position in the 71st Fraser's Highlander Regiment. From there he was drilled by his fellow colleagues and became a hardened officer, unwavering in line, willing to do what it had to take to protect his homeland. It was then that England was forced to deal, with the now, Emperor of France.
In the fall of 1803, William and a contingent of 100 men boarded ship and prepared for Sweden. The King there had requested the help of British Officers and rankers to train his men. Sailing on only a small sloop, the men were crammed but knew their duty. However, on the 5th night, nearing the Dutch coast they were woken by the sounds of cannon fire. Water splashed as cannon balls hit the water near their boat, the wood splintered as it was hit. Men shouted and screamed as many were impaled by thousands of wood splinters and others fearing for their lives abandoned ship. William on the other hand knew his duty. He was able to take command of the ship and using his comprehensive knowledge of the arrow keys, was able to steer the ship to shore. However, less then a hundred yards from shore a cannonball ripped through the hull of the sloop causing it take water and list to the port side. He grabbed his musket that he had for so long kept, and dived into the ocean and swam to land. Upon landing there he was confronted by a contingent of French Fusiliers. At gunpoint and with his musket full of water he was forced to surrender.
Captured and imprisoned, he was locked away in a French prison. There he spent the next three months of his life, locked away, isolated, alone. Learning but a little French from what he was able to catch from the guards. However, fate was on his side, on the eve of one day, he was approached by a Scot, however, not any Scot, William was able to tell who he was, it was one of the famed "Royal étrangers". Rebellious Strangers who left their homeland in the hope of freeing it by battling England as soldiers to her most bitter foe. The man spoke soft English but with no Scottish accent. The man explained that he was the son of Scottish parents who moved to France to escape the tax collectors. Here his father joined the étrangers and battled the English. Severely wounded he limped back to his wife who patched him up. He retired from combat but his sons had other ideas. All 5 joined the étrangers like their father, but 3 were killed in engagements with the English and the other wounded too deeply to fight any longer. The last one, Jean Valjean, took it upon himself to avenge his family and free Scotland, the land he had never seen, yet fought so much for. He explained to William that he could join seeing as he knew far more English than himself.
After months more of training, William was given an Non-Commissioned Officer rank in the Royals. He fought in numerous engagements against the Prusssians in the east, showing immense courage under pressure and even taking charge when his senior officer was killed in action from a riflemen. He lead his company to safety and then proceeded to launch an attack on the enemies right flank where they routed off four companies of Prussian Fusiliers. They were warmly received by their French comrades and even gained medals for their valiant actions. For his part, William was awarded the rank of Sous-Lieutenant and distinguished himself on numerous other occasions, often times taking battle scars for his personal courage when leading. He later earned a coveted title of Capitaine of the étrangers, and lead them to victory after victory.
All went well for William until the battle of Quatre Bras. There he was tasked with flanking the allied lines in an attempt to take pressure off the middle. His men advanced but took heavy losses from enemy skirmisher and artillery fire. When his men finally arrived at their position they had less then 300 men from the original 1000. However, William knew his duty to his homeland. Using the cover of the woods and ravines to get within ear shot of the enemy. However, it was there that William heard something unsettling. English, and Scottish English. William peaked over the ravine and spotted the regiment he once served in, the 71st. William's heart now tore as he didn't know what to do. Attack his fellow countrymen, or risk losing his company from constant fire. It was then that Jean came up to him. Approaching him he could see the look on his eyes, one's of deep pain and anguish as well, but solemnly, he looked over William and nodded. William then stood up, waved his sword, and his men rallied to him. His men prepared a volley, and as William yelled the orders, the volley ripped through the English lines, dozens fell and others were confused as to how so many were falling. It was at that moment that the étrangers beset upon them. Ripping through the lines, charging and charging. The English reeled at his attack but regrouped. William and the last of his men, about 170 or so, charged over a hill only to find an entire British line waiting, and ready. They fired into the mess and man after man fell around Irvine, but he had not come so far to lose it all. He charged, sword in one hand, pistol in another. He fired a shot, wounding a British officer, but in turn took a shot his left hand, crushing the bones in there and rendering it useless. None the less he reached the enemy line and slashed viciously with his sword, wounding many, and killing others. Man after men fell to his swordsmen ship but the British knew better, they fell back and formed a firing line. Their officer glared at William, and with one swipe of his hand, dozens of bullets riddled Irvine, his strength leaving him, he crumpled to the ground. Sword in hand he rolled over and reached into his coat, pulling out a metal Cross, he kissed it, and then blacked out, never to wake again. The British marveled at his work but were even more astounded to see his orange hair under his hat, and the Scottish flag weaved in his uniform.
Hope you guys enjoyed this, unrealistic, yes, but it was fun to write up and I hope you all enjoyed.
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Good read.
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Good read.
and to your story.
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Spoiler
The Life of William Irvine, Savior of Scotland.
William Irvine was born in the summer of 1783, the son of a poor Scottish farmer and Irish mother and to a family of 4. He spent his life there until the age of 16, after this he ran away from home after stealing the family musket. Wandering aimlessly in the dark he was able to elude the trackers his parents had hired. For 6 months he traveled, musket in hand, clutching it with the only strength he had. Traveling from Scotland he finally reached Dublin where he made a living as a craftsmen. Spending the next three years of his life as an apprentice for an experience craftsmen named Eoin Macloud. Learning how to make different creations he finally settled on the art of gun making. He took pride in his ability to make rifles and sold them for a hefty price to the highest bidder. Amassing a large wealth of over 50000 pounds, he finally retired from craftsmanship and retired to his homeland of Scotland. There he spent his days practicing his shooting with the musket that he had kept for so long. He hunted and lived a life of luxury but this was all to change.
It was the night of November the 8th, 1800. Twas the dead of night when William heard the sound of hooves galloping through the night. Upon hearing this he reached under his bed, grabbed his trusty weapon, and crawled to the windows to see the ruckus. He could not see much but from what he was able to tell it was a messenger, perhaps English in nature from the crest he saw on the mans coat. He dismounted his horse, then grabbed what appeared to be a scoll and walked towards the front of his house. Irvine didn't know what to expect so he did what he had done so often before, he took the initiative. Charging through the door he leveled his musket at the man's chest demanding why he intruded upon his property. Nervously the man explained that he had come to explain that the King was raising a detachment of Scots to form a regiment so that they may help in a new war, one that could jeopardize the entire Island and surrounding areas. Although of shaking loyalties, Irvine knew his duty to his fellow countrymen. Perhaps he could one day help his countrymen to freedom, but for know, he would have to earn his stripes on the plains of battle.
On March the 2nd, 1801, Irvine finally reached London where he enlisted in the British Army. Rumors had spread that a french men had taken all of Italy and inflicted heavy defeats on Austria's armies. Astounded that a french men could do such a thing, for what were they, but failures in his eyes. Unable to free the Scots in the middle ages he saw no reason to destroy them, nor help them. However, he had not come all this way to do nothing. He enlisted and was awarded an officer position in the 71st Fraser's Highlander Regiment. From there he was drilled by his fellow colleagues and became a hardened officer, unwavering in line, willing to do what it had to take to protect his homeland. It was then that England was forced to deal, with the now, Emperor of France.
In the fall of 1803, William and a contingent of 100 men boarded ship and prepared for Sweden. The King there had requested the help of British Officers and rankers to train his men. Sailing on only a small sloop, the men were crammed but knew their duty. However, on the 5th night, nearing the Dutch coast they were woken by the sounds of cannon fire. Water splashed as cannon balls hit the water near their boat, the wood splintered as it was hit. Men shouted and screamed as many were impaled by thousands of wood splinters and others fearing for their lives abandoned ship. William on the other hand knew his duty. He was able to take command of the ship and using his comprehensive knowledge of the arrow keys, was able to steer the ship to shore. However, less then a hundred yards from shore a cannonball ripped through the hull of the sloop causing it take water and list to the port side. He grabbed his musket that he had for so long kept, and dived into the ocean and swam to land. Upon landing there he was confronted by a contingent of French Fusiliers. At gunpoint and with his musket full of water he was forced to surrender.
Captured and imprisoned, he was locked away in a French prison. There he spent the next three months of his life, locked away, isolated, alone. Learning but a little French from what he was able to catch from the guards. However, fate was on his side, on the eve of one day, he was approached by a Scot, however, not any Scot, William was able to tell who he was, it was one of the famed "Royal étrangers". Rebellious Strangers who left their homeland in the hope of freeing it by battling England as soldiers to her most bitter foe. The man spoke soft English but with no Scottish accent. The man explained that he was the son of Scottish parents who moved to France to escape the tax collectors. Here his father joined the étrangers and battled the English. Severely wounded he limped back to his wife who patched him up. He retired from combat but his sons had other ideas. All 5 joined the étrangers like their father, but 3 were killed in engagements with the English and the other wounded too deeply to fight any longer. The last one, Jean Valjean, took it upon himself to avenge his family and free Scotland, the land he had never seen, yet fought so much for. He explained to William that he could join seeing as he knew far more English than himself.
After months more of training, William was given an Non-Commissioned Officer rank in the Royals. He fought in numerous engagements against the Prusssians in the east, showing immense courage under pressure and even taking charge when his senior officer was killed in action from a riflemen. He lead his company to safety and then proceeded to launch an attack on the enemies right flank where they routed off four companies of Prussian Fusiliers. They were warmly received by their French comrades and even gained medals for their valiant actions. For his part, William was awarded the rank of Sous-Lieutenant and distinguished himself on numerous other occasions, often times taking battle scars for his personal courage when leading. He later earned a coveted title of Capitaine of the étrangers, and lead them to victory after victory.
All went well for William until the battle of Quatre Bras. There he was tasked with flanking the allied lines in an attempt to take pressure off the middle. His men advanced but took heavy losses from enemy skirmisher and artillery fire. When his men finally arrived at their position they had less then 300 men from the original 1000. However, William knew his duty to his homeland. Using the cover of the woods and ravines to get within ear shot of the enemy. However, it was there that William heard something unsettling. English, and Scottish English. William peaked over the ravine and spotted the regiment he once served in, the 71st. William's heart now tore as he didn't know what to do. Attack his fellow countrymen, or risk losing his company from constant fire. It was then that Jean came up to him. Approaching him he could see the look on his eyes, one's of deep pain and anguish as well, but solemnly, he looked over William and nodded. William then stood up, waved his sword, and his men rallied to him. His men prepared a volley, and as William yelled the orders, the volley ripped through the English lines, dozens fell and others were confused as to how so many were falling. It was at that moment that the étrangers beset upon them. Ripping through the lines, charging and charging. The English reeled at his attack but regrouped. William and the last of his men, about 170 or so, charged over a hill only to find an entire British line waiting, and ready. They fired into the mess and man after man fell around Irvine, but he had not come so far to lose it all. He charged, sword in one hand, pistol in another. He fired a shot, wounding a British officer, but in turn took a shot his left hand, crushing the bones in there and rendering it useless. None the less he reached the enemy line and slashed viciously with his sword, wounding many, and killing others. Man after men fell to his swordsmen ship but the British knew better, they fell back and formed a firing line. Their officer glared at William, and with one swipe of his hand, dozens of bullets riddled Irvine, his strength leaving him, he crumpled to the ground. Sword in hand he rolled over and reached into his coat, pulling out a metal Cross, he kissed it, and then blacked out, never to wake again. The British marveled at his work but were even more astounded to see his orange hair under his hat, and the Scottish flag weaved in his uniform.
Hope you guys enjoyed this, unrealistic, yes, but it was fun to write up and I hope you all enjoyed.
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I really liked your story man
May be my william came across a half dead french officer that has a scot flag sewed into his jacket and took him to him to see a doc ;-)
The story goes on lol
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You guys can expect part 2 soon,
Spoiler
France's Colonial Possessions
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hmm not a bad idea maybe when the 29th was in America my William gets to go on a secret mission into French held territory.
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Seemed like something interesting and fun to do so what they heck why not give it a shot ;D (I'm not the best writer though)
Christopher the Fallen
Younger Years and Education:
Christopher was born on February 14th, 1773 the second child and first son of a poor farmer in France. He lived happily with his family for 13 years before his mother and father had another son, who upon birth was announced dead. Roughly 1 month later his father, mother, and sister died in a mysterious fire while he was playing with his young friends. Upon his family’s death his uncle, who was a wealthy lawyer, took him in as his son. While living with his uncle he learned how to read and write. Once he turned the age of 20 he began feeling a strong sense of patriotism for his country and after much arguing with his uncle he enlisted in the military.
The First Battle:
Standing roughly 6 feet and 2 inches in height Christopher was one of the taller soldiers in the military. For around 3 years Christopher trained hard and became one of the better soldiers in the regiment he was assigned to. However, this peace was soon interrupted by a sudden announcement that the army was soon going to be marching upon Voltri. The very next day the army was assembled and began the march. On April 10, 1176 the army arrived at Voltri and prepared for an attack. The regiment Christopher was assigned to was given the command to defend against a bayonet attack. As the men prepared for the bloody fight that was sure to follow even more sorrowful news approached, the regiment that Christopher was in would be assigned to the front of the defense. As the enemy approached the closer to the target of the bayonet charge the men became more and more nervous until at last they reached the enemy lines and engaged in hand-to-hand fighting. Christopher charged in with his comrades, shouting as they attacked the enemy. At one point of the fighting an enemy ranker thrust an attack at Christopher’s stomach, however, only managed to glance his right leg as a bayonet was jabbed into his throat. Christopher continued on with the rest of the men, unaware that the bayonet had cut deeper than he thought, as they attempted to push back Pittoni’s columns. Eventually, after 2 hours of fighting, Christopher began to notice that he was having a lot of pain in his right leg and looked down to see that his whole pant leg was covered in blood. His regiment leader, who had just arrived, signaled to his men that they would be retreating to Mele under the Commanders orders. As luck would have it this was the perfect timing for Christopher because as soon as he made it back to Mele he almost feinted and was rushed to be taken care of along with the rest of the wounded.
The End of the Campaign:
After a few weeks of recovering from the wound that he had suffered Christopher returned to his regiment as they continued the campaign. As it would have it though he was only able to fight in a few more battles because his unit was generally kept as a rear guard due to the heavy losses during the defense from the bayonet charge. However at the battle of Cherasco on April 28th, 1776 Christopher was once again put in harm’s way as his regiment once again charged into another regiment. During this engagement Christopher was attacked by a man leaping past the lines of his allies and attempting to kill their regiment leader. However, Christopher stepped in the way to prevent the death of their leader, since his back was turned to direct more of the men into the fight. Christopher went to attack the man and end the fight quickly but the man jumped to the side and stabbed Christopher’s arm with a small knife that he was carrying, creating a large S-mark slash along Christopher’s arm. Enraged by the sudden pain and his own stupidity for allowing the man to come that close Christopher went on the offensive but once again as he was going to stab the man the man eluded him and kicked his knee causing Christopher to go down on one knee. The man stepped up behind Christopher and grabbed his hair and moved as if to cut his throat. As the man was about to end Christopher’s life a shot rang out and the man began to far backward and Christopher looked up to see his leader standing in front of him with a recently discharged pistol and he almost laughed with relief, but before he could manage to get out even a chuckle he felt a sharp pain go over his eye and felt blood fall into his left eye. He screamed in pain as he realized that the man who was shot had managed to cut just above and below his eye as he was falling. Yelling for a few men to take Christopher to the rear again and have his eye looked at the leader rushed up to the rest of the regiment to continue the push. As blood welled up into his other eye too Christopher became virtually blind as the men led him back to the rear guard. He would keep both his eyes but he would have a nasty scar from now on.
The Battle of Austerlitz:
After a few more campaigns of fighting Christopher had risen to the rank of Caporaux around the time when the Battle of Austerlitz took place on December 2nd, 1805. During an attempt to reclaim the city Christopher’s regiment was sent in with a few others to lead the assault. As the men began to push into the city Christopher’s regiment was engaged in heavy fighting and was beginning to route. His leader was attempting to rally the men together and continue pushing with the other regiments. The leader however, was not able to rally the men effectively from his current position though so he rushed closer to the fighting to have more of an effect. However, as he was just beginning to get the men to rally a sudden gunshot jumped through the air and Christopher saw his leader, and the man who saved his life, fall to the ground with a bullet in his temple. The men seeing what had happened began to route with even more haste. Christopher knew something had to be done, so, he rushed to the body of the fallen leader and grabbed his sword and began to shout “Come brave lads let us avenge our beloved leader and push these bastards back!” and as more of the men began to rally around him he went straight to the front line and started slashing and hacking with the sword not caring how many fell before him and around him. With this final push the men were able to push back the enemy and secure the town for France. As the battle ended and he began to feel the full effects of the battle he sat down on a section of the cities stone fence to catch his breath.
The Acceptance Into the Garde:
As it turned out Napoleon himself had witnessed Christopher’s bravery and deeds in rallying the regiment after the leader had been shot. Impressed with what he saw Napoleon asked Christopher to see him. Christopher was wondering what Napoleon could possibly want with him, coming from a poor farmer. As he walked into Napoleon’s tent he noticed that there was a uniform sitting in the corner of the room. Napoleon quickly beckoned him to sit and began to praise Christopher on what he had done that day. After a short amount of time Napoleon proposed an offer to Christopher, he could either join the Old Guard as a Sergent of the 1er Grenadiers or he could go back to his regiment as a Sergent. Christopher was shocked at the proposal. He never would have thought that he would have ever made it into the Old Guard when he heard of its construction in 1804; he knew that he could never refuse an offer as generous as this though. So just a few days later Christopher joined the 1er Grenadiers as a Sergent and began his career as a grongard enjoying the privileges of higher wages, and the ability to complain without being punished.
This is a fictional story, although I tried to include some historical stuff into the story but please forgive me if I got anything wrong.
I may be adding more onto this later.
-
Spoiler
Seemed like something interesting and fun to do so what they heck why not give it a shot ;D (I'm not the best writer though)
Christopher the Fallen
Younger Years and Education:
Christopher was born on February 14th, 1773 the second child and first son of a poor farmer in France. He lived happily with his family for 13 years before his mother and father had another son, who upon birth was announced dead. Roughly 1 month later his father, mother, and sister died in a mysterious fire while he was playing with his young friends. Upon his family’s death his uncle, who was a wealthy lawyer, took him in as his son. While living with his uncle he learned how to read and write. Once he turned the age of 20 he began feeling a strong sense of patriotism for his country and after much arguing with his uncle he enlisted in the military.
The First Battle:
Standing roughly 6 feet and 2 inches in height Christopher was one of the taller soldiers in the military. For around 3 years Christopher trained hard and became one of the better soldiers in the regiment he was assigned to. However, this peace was soon interrupted by a sudden announcement that the army was soon going to be marching upon Voltri. The very next day the army was assembled and began the march. On April 10, 1176 the army arrived at Voltri and prepared for an attack. The regiment Christopher was assigned to was given the command to defend against a bayonet attack. As the men prepared for the bloody fight that was sure to follow even more sorrowful news approached, the regiment that Christopher was in would be assigned to the front of the defense. As the enemy approached the closer to the target of the bayonet charge the men became more and more nervous until at last they reached the enemy lines and engaged in hand-to-hand fighting. Christopher charged in with his comrades, shouting as they attacked the enemy. At one point of the fighting an enemy ranker thrust an attack at Christopher’s stomach, however, only managed to glance his right leg as a bayonet was jabbed into his throat. Christopher continued on with the rest of the men, unaware that the bayonet had cut deeper than he thought, as they attempted to push back Pittoni’s columns. Eventually, after 2 hours of fighting, Christopher began to notice that he was having a lot of pain in his right leg and looked down to see that his whole pant leg was covered in blood. His regiment leader, who had just arrived, signaled to his men that they would be retreating to Mele under the Commanders orders. As luck would have it this was the perfect timing for Christopher because as soon as he made it back to Mele he almost feinted and was rushed to be taken care of along with the rest of the wounded.
The End of the Campaign:
After a few weeks of recovering from the wound that he had suffered Christopher returned to his regiment as they continued the campaign. As it would have it though he was only able to fight in a few more battles because his unit was generally kept as a rear guard due to the heavy losses during the defense from the bayonet charge. However at the battle of Cherasco on April 28th, 1776 Christopher was once again put in harm’s way as his regiment once again charged into another regiment. During this engagement Christopher was attacked by a man leaping past the lines of his allies and attempting to kill their regiment leader. However, Christopher stepped in the way to prevent the death of their leader, since his back was turned to direct more of the men into the fight. Christopher went to attack the man and end the fight quickly but the man jumped to the side and stabbed Christopher’s arm with a small knife that he was carrying, creating a large S-mark slash along Christopher’s arm. Enraged by the sudden pain and his own stupidity for allowing the man to come that close Christopher went on the offensive but once again as he was going to stab the man the man eluded him and kicked his knee causing Christopher to go down on one knee. The man stepped up behind Christopher and grabbed his hair and moved as if to cut his throat. As the man was about to end Christopher’s life a shot rang out and the man began to far backward and Christopher looked up to see his leader standing in front of him with a recently discharged pistol and he almost laughed with relief, but before he could manage to get out even a chuckle he felt a sharp pain go over his eye and felt blood fall into his left eye. He screamed in pain as he realized that the man who was shot had managed to cut just above and below his eye as he was falling. Yelling for a few men to take Christopher to the rear again and have his eye looked at the leader rushed up to the rest of the regiment to continue the push. As blood welled up into his other eye too Christopher became virtually blind as the men led him back to the rear guard. He would keep both his eyes but he would have a nasty scar from now on.
The Battle of Austerlitz:
After a few more campaigns of fighting Christopher had risen to the rank of Caporaux around the time when the Battle of Austerlitz took place on December 2nd, 1805. During an attempt to reclaim the city Christopher’s regiment was sent in with a few others to lead the assault. As the men began to push into the city Christopher’s regiment was engaged in heavy fighting and was beginning to route. His leader was attempting to rally the men together and continue pushing with the other regiments. The leader however, was not able to rally the men effectively from his current position though so he rushed closer to the fighting to have more of an effect. However, as he was just beginning to get the men to rally a sudden gunshot jumped through the air and Christopher saw his leader, and the man who saved his life, fall to the ground with a bullet in his temple. The men seeing what had happened began to route with even more haste. Christopher knew something had to be done, so, he rushed to the body of the fallen leader and grabbed his sword and began to shout “Come brave lads let us avenge our beloved leader and push these bastards back!” and as more of the men began to rally around him he went straight to the front line and started slashing and hacking with the sword not caring how many fell before him and around him. With this final push the men were able to push back the enemy and secure the town for France. As the battle ended and he began to feel the full effects of the battle he sat down on a section of the cities stone fence to catch his breath.
The Acceptance Into the Garde:
As it turned out Napoleon himself had witnessed Christopher’s bravery and deeds in rallying the regiment after the leader had been shot. Impressed with what he saw Napoleon asked Christopher to see him. Christopher was wondering what Napoleon could possibly want with him, coming from a poor farmer. As he walked into Napoleon’s tent he noticed that there was a uniform sitting in the corner of the room. Napoleon quickly beckoned him to sit and began to praise Christopher on what he had done that day. After a short amount of time Napoleon proposed an offer to Christopher, he could either join the Old Guard as a Sergent of the 1er Grenadiers or he could go back to his regiment as a Sergent. Christopher was shocked at the proposal. He never would have thought that he would have ever made it into the Old Guard when he heard of its construction in 1804; he knew that he could never refuse an offer as generous as this though. So just a few days later Christopher joined the 1er Grenadiers as a Sergent and began his career as a grongard enjoying the privileges of higher wages, and the ability to complain without being punished.
This is a fictional story, although I tried to include some historical stuff into the story but please forgive me if I got anything wrong.
I may be adding more onto this later.
-
Spoiler
Seemed like something interesting and fun to do so what they heck why not give it a shot ;D (I'm not the best writer though)
Christopher the Fallen
Younger Years and Education:
Christopher was born on February 14th, 1773 the second child and first son of a poor farmer in France. He lived happily with his family for 13 years before his mother and father had another son, who upon birth was announced dead. Roughly 1 month later his father, mother, and sister died in a mysterious fire while he was playing with his young friends. Upon his family’s death his uncle, who was a wealthy lawyer, took him in as his son. While living with his uncle he learned how to read and write. Once he turned the age of 20 he began feeling a strong sense of patriotism for his country and after much arguing with his uncle he enlisted in the military.
The First Battle:
Standing roughly 6 feet and 2 inches in height Christopher was one of the taller soldiers in the military. For around 3 years Christopher trained hard and became one of the better soldiers in the regiment he was assigned to. However, this peace was soon interrupted by a sudden announcement that the army was soon going to be marching upon Voltri. The very next day the army was assembled and began the march. On April 10, 1176 the army arrived at Voltri and prepared for an attack. The regiment Christopher was assigned to was given the command to defend against a bayonet attack. As the men prepared for the bloody fight that was sure to follow even more sorrowful news approached, the regiment that Christopher was in would be assigned to the front of the defense. As the enemy approached the closer to the target of the bayonet charge the men became more and more nervous until at last they reached the enemy lines and engaged in hand-to-hand fighting. Christopher charged in with his comrades, shouting as they attacked the enemy. At one point of the fighting an enemy ranker thrust an attack at Christopher’s stomach, however, only managed to glance his right leg as a bayonet was jabbed into his throat. Christopher continued on with the rest of the men, unaware that the bayonet had cut deeper than he thought, as they attempted to push back Pittoni’s columns. Eventually, after 2 hours of fighting, Christopher began to notice that he was having a lot of pain in his right leg and looked down to see that his whole pant leg was covered in blood. His regiment leader, who had just arrived, signaled to his men that they would be retreating to Mele under the Commanders orders. As luck would have it this was the perfect timing for Christopher because as soon as he made it back to Mele he almost feinted and was rushed to be taken care of along with the rest of the wounded.
The End of the Campaign:
After a few weeks of recovering from the wound that he had suffered Christopher returned to his regiment as they continued the campaign. As it would have it though he was only able to fight in a few more battles because his unit was generally kept as a rear guard due to the heavy losses during the defense from the bayonet charge. However at the battle of Cherasco on April 28th, 1776 Christopher was once again put in harm’s way as his regiment once again charged into another regiment. During this engagement Christopher was attacked by a man leaping past the lines of his allies and attempting to kill their regiment leader. However, Christopher stepped in the way to prevent the death of their leader, since his back was turned to direct more of the men into the fight. Christopher went to attack the man and end the fight quickly but the man jumped to the side and stabbed Christopher’s arm with a small knife that he was carrying, creating a large S-mark slash along Christopher’s arm. Enraged by the sudden pain and his own stupidity for allowing the man to come that close Christopher went on the offensive but once again as he was going to stab the man the man eluded him and kicked his knee causing Christopher to go down on one knee. The man stepped up behind Christopher and grabbed his hair and moved as if to cut his throat. As the man was about to end Christopher’s life a shot rang out and the man began to far backward and Christopher looked up to see his leader standing in front of him with a recently discharged pistol and he almost laughed with relief, but before he could manage to get out even a chuckle he felt a sharp pain go over his eye and felt blood fall into his left eye. He screamed in pain as he realized that the man who was shot had managed to cut just above and below his eye as he was falling. Yelling for a few men to take Christopher to the rear again and have his eye looked at the leader rushed up to the rest of the regiment to continue the push. As blood welled up into his other eye too Christopher became virtually blind as the men led him back to the rear guard. He would keep both his eyes but he would have a nasty scar from now on.
The Battle of Austerlitz:
After a few more campaigns of fighting Christopher had risen to the rank of Caporaux around the time when the Battle of Austerlitz took place on December 2nd, 1805. During an attempt to reclaim the city Christopher’s regiment was sent in with a few others to lead the assault. As the men began to push into the city Christopher’s regiment was engaged in heavy fighting and was beginning to route. His leader was attempting to rally the men together and continue pushing with the other regiments. The leader however, was not able to rally the men effectively from his current position though so he rushed closer to the fighting to have more of an effect. However, as he was just beginning to get the men to rally a sudden gunshot jumped through the air and Christopher saw his leader, and the man who saved his life, fall to the ground with a bullet in his temple. The men seeing what had happened began to route with even more haste. Christopher knew something had to be done, so, he rushed to the body of the fallen leader and grabbed his sword and began to shout “Come brave lads let us avenge our beloved leader and push these bastards back!” and as more of the men began to rally around him he went straight to the front line and started slashing and hacking with the sword not caring how many fell before him and around him. With this final push the men were able to push back the enemy and secure the town for France. As the battle ended and he began to feel the full effects of the battle he sat down on a section of the cities stone fence to catch his breath.
The Acceptance Into the Garde:
As it turned out Napoleon himself had witnessed Christopher’s bravery and deeds in rallying the regiment after the leader had been shot. Impressed with what he saw Napoleon asked Christopher to see him. Christopher was wondering what Napoleon could possibly want with him, coming from a poor farmer. As he walked into Napoleon’s tent he noticed that there was a uniform sitting in the corner of the room. Napoleon quickly beckoned him to sit and began to praise Christopher on what he had done that day. After a short amount of time Napoleon proposed an offer to Christopher, he could either join the Old Guard as a Sergent of the 1er Grenadiers or he could go back to his regiment as a Sergent. Christopher was shocked at the proposal. He never would have thought that he would have ever made it into the Old Guard when he heard of its construction in 1804; he knew that he could never refuse an offer as generous as this though. So just a few days later Christopher joined the 1er Grenadiers as a Sergent and began his career as a grongard enjoying the privileges of higher wages, and the ability to complain without being punished.
This is a fictional story, although I tried to include some historical stuff into the story but please forgive me if I got anything wrong.
I may be adding more onto this later.
I see you use the "If I use enough stuff they won't notice" trick.
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Spoiler
Seemed like something interesting and fun to do so what they heck why not give it a shot ;D (I'm not the best writer though)
Christopher the Fallen
Younger Years and Education:
Christopher was born on February 14th, 1773 the second child and first son of a poor farmer in France. He lived happily with his family for 13 years before his mother and father had another son, who upon birth was announced dead. Roughly 1 month later his father, mother, and sister died in a mysterious fire while he was playing with his young friends. Upon his family’s death his uncle, who was a wealthy lawyer, took him in as his son. While living with his uncle he learned how to read and write. Once he turned the age of 20 he began feeling a strong sense of patriotism for his country and after much arguing with his uncle he enlisted in the military.
The First Battle:
Standing roughly 6 feet and 2 inches in height Christopher was one of the taller soldiers in the military. For around 3 years Christopher trained hard and became one of the better soldiers in the regiment he was assigned to. However, this peace was soon interrupted by a sudden announcement that the army was soon going to be marching upon Voltri. The very next day the army was assembled and began the march. On April 10, 1176 the army arrived at Voltri and prepared for an attack. The regiment Christopher was assigned to was given the command to defend against a bayonet attack. As the men prepared for the bloody fight that was sure to follow even more sorrowful news approached, the regiment that Christopher was in would be assigned to the front of the defense. As the enemy approached the closer to the target of the bayonet charge the men became more and more nervous until at last they reached the enemy lines and engaged in hand-to-hand fighting. Christopher charged in with his comrades, shouting as they attacked the enemy. At one point of the fighting an enemy ranker thrust an attack at Christopher’s stomach, however, only managed to glance his right leg as a bayonet was jabbed into his throat. Christopher continued on with the rest of the men, unaware that the bayonet had cut deeper than he thought, as they attempted to push back Pittoni’s columns. Eventually, after 2 hours of fighting, Christopher began to notice that he was having a lot of pain in his right leg and looked down to see that his whole pant leg was covered in blood. His regiment leader, who had just arrived, signaled to his men that they would be retreating to Mele under the Commanders orders. As luck would have it this was the perfect timing for Christopher because as soon as he made it back to Mele he almost feinted and was rushed to be taken care of along with the rest of the wounded.
The End of the Campaign:
After a few weeks of recovering from the wound that he had suffered Christopher returned to his regiment as they continued the campaign. As it would have it though he was only able to fight in a few more battles because his unit was generally kept as a rear guard due to the heavy losses during the defense from the bayonet charge. However at the battle of Cherasco on April 28th, 1776 Christopher was once again put in harm’s way as his regiment once again charged into another regiment. During this engagement Christopher was attacked by a man leaping past the lines of his allies and attempting to kill their regiment leader. However, Christopher stepped in the way to prevent the death of their leader, since his back was turned to direct more of the men into the fight. Christopher went to attack the man and end the fight quickly but the man jumped to the side and stabbed Christopher’s arm with a small knife that he was carrying, creating a large S-mark slash along Christopher’s arm. Enraged by the sudden pain and his own stupidity for allowing the man to come that close Christopher went on the offensive but once again as he was going to stab the man the man eluded him and kicked his knee causing Christopher to go down on one knee. The man stepped up behind Christopher and grabbed his hair and moved as if to cut his throat. As the man was about to end Christopher’s life a shot rang out and the man began to far backward and Christopher looked up to see his leader standing in front of him with a recently discharged pistol and he almost laughed with relief, but before he could manage to get out even a chuckle he felt a sharp pain go over his eye and felt blood fall into his left eye. He screamed in pain as he realized that the man who was shot had managed to cut just above and below his eye as he was falling. Yelling for a few men to take Christopher to the rear again and have his eye looked at the leader rushed up to the rest of the regiment to continue the push. As blood welled up into his other eye too Christopher became virtually blind as the men led him back to the rear guard. He would keep both his eyes but he would have a nasty scar from now on.
The Battle of Austerlitz:
After a few more campaigns of fighting Christopher had risen to the rank of Caporaux around the time when the Battle of Austerlitz took place on December 2nd, 1805. During an attempt to reclaim the city Christopher’s regiment was sent in with a few others to lead the assault. As the men began to push into the city Christopher’s regiment was engaged in heavy fighting and was beginning to route. His leader was attempting to rally the men together and continue pushing with the other regiments. The leader however, was not able to rally the men effectively from his current position though so he rushed closer to the fighting to have more of an effect. However, as he was just beginning to get the men to rally a sudden gunshot jumped through the air and Christopher saw his leader, and the man who saved his life, fall to the ground with a bullet in his temple. The men seeing what had happened began to route with even more haste. Christopher knew something had to be done, so, he rushed to the body of the fallen leader and grabbed his sword and began to shout “Come brave lads let us avenge our beloved leader and push these bastards back!” and as more of the men began to rally around him he went straight to the front line and started slashing and hacking with the sword not caring how many fell before him and around him. With this final push the men were able to push back the enemy and secure the town for France. As the battle ended and he began to feel the full effects of the battle he sat down on a section of the cities stone fence to catch his breath.
The Acceptance Into the Garde:
As it turned out Napoleon himself had witnessed Christopher’s bravery and deeds in rallying the regiment after the leader had been shot. Impressed with what he saw Napoleon asked Christopher to see him. Christopher was wondering what Napoleon could possibly want with him, coming from a poor farmer. As he walked into Napoleon’s tent he noticed that there was a uniform sitting in the corner of the room. Napoleon quickly beckoned him to sit and began to praise Christopher on what he had done that day. After a short amount of time Napoleon proposed an offer to Christopher, he could either join the Old Guard as a Sergent of the 1er Grenadiers or he could go back to his regiment as a Sergent. Christopher was shocked at the proposal. He never would have thought that he would have ever made it into the Old Guard when he heard of its construction in 1804; he knew that he could never refuse an offer as generous as this though. So just a few days later Christopher joined the 1er Grenadiers as a Sergent and began his career as a grongard enjoying the privileges of higher wages, and the ability to complain without being punished.
This is a fictional story, although I tried to include some historical stuff into the story but please forgive me if I got anything wrong.
I may be adding more onto this later.
I see you use the "If I use enough stuff they won't notice" trick.
Oh shit, they're on to me, but the zombie horde right behind you was obliterated by a team of plucky young alcoholic time travellers, who then promptly ret conned the lot of you.
8)
Problem solved.
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I was going to have a very historical visit from General Pettain where he drops off 20000 world war one rifles and 10 artillery pieces. Then France dominated everyone and they won the Napoleonic Wars, enslaved England, liberated Scotland and Ireland, and finally subjugated all of Europe. However, I opted for a semi historical story xD
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The Early Life and Career of Rifleman Potato Jay MacFamine.
1784
Potato MacFamine was born to a young Irish widow with a terrible Potato-Food-Fetish, the pregnancy was unexpected as this young Irish lass had never made love to a man. Her parents died when the soon to be mother was young, she was half-starved to death by a recent Potato Famine and was doubtful she would survive the strain one has when giving birth. Her last thoughts were of a particularly large Potato who was potentially Potato MacFamine's father. All alone she managed to squeeze her new born child out, as she picked up her Son, a single tear from her eye rolled down her cheek and onto the dirt floor. "Potato." She gasped with her last breath.
It had been nearly 2 days since Potato had entered the world, the child was growing frail, without help the child would soon die in the arms of his already deceased mother. But fate had other ideas and by chance a Greek tax collector visiting from Greekland stumbled upon the small potato-farm house and went inside seeking hot action with some Irish wenches, instead he found young Potato, on the verge of death. It was natural instinct to take the baby and make some profit, but as he held Potato in his arms, he felt attatched to the infant and vowed he would raise the child. The Greek said aloud, " You shall be called Potato Jay MacFamine! "
1805
21 Years had passed since that day and Potato had enlisted in King George's Army and was in the 25th Regiment of Foot. A campaign was launched which would throw Potato into action. The British Army mobilised and landed for the first time in Portugal. Potato fought his first few battles bravely, amongst the soldiers of the 25th was Potato's step brother, son of the Greek tax collector and a Sjt of the 25th. They shared many of their battle experiences together and were bound by eternal friendship. After a couple of years of fight Potato had become bored of the Musket and Bayonet, it pained him to leave his step brother but Potato transferred to the 60th Royal American Rifles and rose to Rifleman, Potato was happy with the change. He was at peace.
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Spoiler
The Early Life and Career of Rifleman Potato Jay MacFamine.
1784
Potato MacFamine was born to a young Irish widow with a terrible Potato-Food-Fetish, the pregnancy was unexpected as this young Irish lass had never made love to a man. Her parents died when the soon to be mother was young, she was half-starved to death by a recent Potato Famine and was doubtful she would survive the strain one has when giving birth. Her last thoughts were of a particularly large Potato who was potentially Potato MacFamine's father. All alone she managed to squeeze her new born child out, as she picked up her Son, a single tear from her eye rolled down her cheek and onto the dirt floor. "Potato." She gasped with her last breath.
It had been nearly 2 days since Potato had entered the world, the child was growing frail, without help the child would soon die in the arms of his already deceased mother. But fate had other ideas and by chance a Greek tax collector visiting from Greekland stumbled upon the small potato-farm house and went inside seeking hot action with some Irish wenches, instead he found young Potato, on the verge of death. It was natural instinct to take the baby and make some profit, but as he held Potato in his arms, he felt attatched to the infant and vowed he would raise the child. The Greek said aloud, " You shall be called Potato Jay MacFamine! "
1805
21 Years had passed since that day and Potato had enlisted in King George's Army and was in the 25th Regiment of Foot. A campaign was launched which would throw Potato into action. The British Army mobilised and landed for the first time in Portugal. Potato fought his first few battles bravely, amongst the soldiers of the 25th was Potato's step brother, son of the Greek tax collector and a Sjt of the 25th. They shared many of their battle experiences together and were bound by eternal friendship. After a couple of years of fight Potato had become bored of the Musket and Bayonet, it pained him to leave his step brother but Potato transferred to the 60th Royal American Rifles and rose to Rifleman, Potato was happy with the change. He was at peace.
-
Spoiler
The Early Life and Career of Rifleman Potato Jay MacFamine.
1784
Potato MacFamine was born to a young Irish widow with a terrible Potato-Food-Fetish, the pregnancy was unexpected as this young Irish lass had never made love to a man. Her parents died when the soon to be mother was young, she was half-starved to death by a recent Potato Famine and was doubtful she would survive the strain one has when giving birth. Her last thoughts were of a particularly large Potato who was potentially Potato MacFamine's father. All alone she managed to squeeze her new born child out, as she picked up her Son, a single tear from her eye rolled down her cheek and onto the dirt floor. "Potato." She gasped with her last breath.
It had been nearly 2 days since Potato had entered the world, the child was growing frail, without help the child would soon die in the arms of his already deceased mother. But fate had other ideas and by chance a Greek tax collector visiting from Greekland stumbled upon the small potato-farm house and went inside seeking hot action with some Irish wenches, instead he found young Potato, on the verge of death. It was natural instinct to take the baby and make some profit, but as he held Potato in his arms, he felt attatched to the infant and vowed he would raise the child. The Greek said aloud, " You shall be called Potato Jay MacFamine! "
1805
21 Years had passed since that day and Potato had enlisted in King George's Army and was in the 25th Regiment of Foot. A campaign was launched which would throw Potato into action. The British Army mobilised and landed for the first time in Portugal. Potato fought his first few battles bravely, amongst the soldiers of the 25th was Potato's step brother, son of the Greek tax collector and a Sjt of the 25th. They shared many of their battle experiences together and were bound by eternal friendship. After a couple of years of fight Potato had become bored of the Musket and Bayonet, it pained him to leave his step brother but Potato transferred to the 60th Royal American Rifles and rose to Rifleman, Potato was happy with the change. He was at peace.
Miss u 2
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The exciting and terrible life of Dan the Man the Chef.
Young life
Born in 7 BCE as the second child of the Virgin Mary Moorners of 17 Lovely Lane, Antarctica. During Dan the Man the Chef's childhood she killed 3 Greek god, 2 titans, a few heroes, 6 Indian gods, Fireboy, and that catholic God as well.
Her Mom and Dad
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.biznology.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2013%2F08%2Fcompanions_adelie_penguins.jpg&hash=185d795ac31bbf10313baf99fa40272a4fdd14e0)
Also at 7, she, owning twelve fortune 500 companies, became the youngest quadrillionaire in history.
Her Financial Advisers making decisions
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.art-spire.com%2Fwp-content%2Fgallery%2F2011%2Fjuin_2011%2F29-06-11_Ong_Chew_Peng%2FOng_Chew_Peng.jpg&hash=6fa00959d9f3f2fe15eff96992a679b0f7f25651)
In the year 18200 CE, she combated the evil forces of the 1st RGJ, single handily might I add, after killing 5,900,214 of them she join their ranks to make them halfway decent. Fast Forward another 60000 years and Dan the Man the Chef, received another title, King of the Universe after she took control of the 00th and the 1st RGJ and killed everyone including her troops.
After living alone for another 70,000 years and killing every life form in the universe, she built a time machine and when back to 2012 CE to the forming of the 1st RGJ.
Where she lived during the conquest of the universe
(https://www.fsegames.eu/forum/proxy.php?request=http%3A%2F%2Fblog.chasejarvis.com%2Fblog%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2013%2F03%2FMercury3.jpg&hash=bc7d9398e911e536bf3563356dc01b78af3f60fe)
Career
After getting recruited into the 1st RGJ in early August 2012 as one of the first members she was quite terrible at melee but almost a sniper when It came to shooting. After 3 or so months of being a lieutenant she decided to leave and merc for a few months while Sharpe(Dat name tho), the okay leader of the regiment, was at basic training to become a sailor or something. After losing to a shameful duel, she rejoined the regiment in January with Wellington in charge(I think). After about 5 or 6 months some stuff happened and a split occurred with Dan the Man the Chef the Legend-in-the-making joining Sharpe's side. After 2 or 3 weeks the British Army Happened and Dan the Man the Chef the Legend-in-the-making the Okay Meleer moved to that teamspeak. After a month or so of being in the new Teamspeak the rank of Cook was invented and Dan the Man the Chef the Legend-in-the-making the Okay Meleer the Happy Cook was quite set in life. After a month or so the rank Cook was taken away and Dan the Man the Chef the Legend-in-the-making the Okay Meleer the Sad Woman was quite sad. After two month or so Colour Serjeant was invented and Dan titles titles titles took the rank because she became quite good at melee. Another month the rank was taken away and Dan the Man the Chef the Legend-in-the-making the Quite Good Meleer the Sad Woman came back as a reformed private.
Fast Forward 2 or 3 Years and Dan the Man the Chef had no more titles and ruled the NW community because no one played the game anymore due to BCoF coming out. No pictures fit this part...
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Oh Dan
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i think i have a nose bleed from reading that
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The one true faith of Rejeism will be reformed soon, with the saga of Rejeington being added to. Stay tuned for more holy words!
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The one true faith of Rejeism will be reformed soon, with the saga of Rejeington being added to. Stay tuned for more holy words!
I look forward to it!
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The one true faith of Rejeism will be reformed soon, with the saga of Rejeington being added to. Stay tuned for more holy words!
I look forward to it!