"Survival Training"

Historical
By Hylek on July 10, 2015 - 1 view

Skins

Helm
Mask of the Wanderer
Shoulders
Shoulder Scarf
Coat
Scallywag Chest
Gloves
Militia Gauntlets
Leggings
Phalanx Legplates
Boots
Forgeman Greaves
Backpiece
Guild Backpack

Bandit Musket
Black Fleet Bludgeon

Info

Armor:
Heavy
Gender:
Male
Race:
Human

Description

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Hey Ho! A little earlier this day "Gantz" uploadet a very cool look, which unfortunately looks a lot like mine :( I promise i didnt steal anything, i was just unlucky with the time to upload. Anyway, i prepared a story to explain the look (thats what was taking me so long). If you dont want to read the wall of text i hope you can at least enjoy the screens :D Greetingz! Report for time of absence – Corporal Thoran, 1326 AE I lost my squad in that godforsaken bog. 10 days I fought for survival until I reached the end of the swamp, just to realise, that behind its borders there’s even more marshland … I rested. I thought I’ll never get out of this hell. Then, suddenly, the earth began to shake. What I held as a nice piece of steady ground, was actually the back of a giant broodmother, buried in the mud. Full of anger, she flung her head around, tossing me into the air. While I was falling, she hit me with a devastating tail-whip, crushing my chest-armor and wounding my eye. I hit the ground several meters away; surprisingly hard ground for a swamp. The earth began to shake again. This time I fell down. There was an old shipwreck, almost completely sunken into the sludge. Immediately I was searching for a gun, mine was torn off my back while that beast knocked me over. Nothing was there. Not even swords or knifes. Cursed bandits! They take everything. I covered my eye with mud to cool the bruise. Then I found something; a huge anchor. The ceiling cracked and “mommy” fell down, struggling in the wreckage. The shipwreck was filling with water and mud, leaving me without time. I had to bring that monster down with one hit. With the anchor in my hands, I charged at the creature, ducking another tail-whip before driving my foot against the ship’s mast. I pulled up the anchor with full momentum, hitting “mommy” right in the kisser. The strike even hurled that beast through the air. I never imagined pulling off such a blow … After 4 months, the incompetent “rescue-team” finally found me. I wasn’t mad. The survival tactics and fighting strategies I learned in that unforgiving place will come in handy!