When the General first came to the fort, it was.... something.

About 2 weeks into my residence at the fort, we received word that a new general was coming to oversee and reinforce the place. We all had a good laugh at that, we did. 

What kind of general comes to a place like this? 

A general who abuses his power and thought to take a bite out of the coffers with the other officials.

A pansy general full of good intentions, a greenhorn, to be frozen away into oblivion by the harsh reality of life.

Or a general who had been sent here to die.

We all expected him to come a month later after the notice; after all, it would take around 1 week for travel, and another 2 weeks to prepare for the trip itself; settling accounts, establishing stewards for their households, settling bribes, and finishing off old feuds. Those sorts of things. Even at the earliest, he should've come in a week.

What kind of fucking madman comes in 3 days?

He was like a typhoon, rushing in with his entourage of men, bugling military horns to announce their arrival at the crack of dawn. No one cares enough to establish regular patrol in this place, so he'd been forced to wait at the gates for a good half hour before the rest of us hurriedly moved into formations and the officials half-assedly doctored records. We stood there in the morning chill, shivering under our metal arms and armors, as we wondered how long this next victim of the north would fare. He stood, tall upon his horse, fully outfitted with a menacing helmet glowering down at us.

Then he took off his helmet, stared at us, then broke out into a wide grin.

"So these are my new brothers, eh?"

I snickered quitely at that. So a greenhorn hopeful, huh? I've seen those sorts, They always break down in a couple days, forced out sheer number of maggots and parasites that call themselves the officials here. Unable to do anything, unable to force them out of their well-established places without breaking the host of the parasites, they eventually leave in regret. They all do.

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"Here you go, good man. The documents you requested, documenting the finances as well as the stocks of the fort."

Right on cue. Lord Balthwin, the leader of the officials, here with his entourage of cronies, with that sickeningly pretentious smile of his, as if he knows and is above everything.

The general accepted the documents, and glanced them over. Slowly, a frown arose, as he proceeded down the pages, until he finally spoke, "What is this."

"What, unsatisfied with the price? It is always negotiable. Besides, with my brother and my backing, you don't have to spend so long in this place. As long as you keep mum about our activities, we will ensure you return to the capital within 5 years." Lord Balthwin smiled, the unspoken threat of what could happen if he refused hanging over the general's head with the mention of his connections. With his status as the brother of a Marquis, he attaches his filthy fingers to the things he wants, and takes them with force, deception, and guile. As for those who prove obstacles, he slowly maneuvers them into dead ends, to torment at his leisure.

Typical.

It's the way the world works, after all. Those who have, steal. Those who do not have, are stolen from. Those who have good intentions, are hounded to their deaths, utilizing their own sect of morality as a trap, whilst the unscrupulouse are free as birds. Seriously, what a shit world. I wonder what the general's thin-

-Swish-

"AAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!"

.......................

What the fuck.

I watched as an object flew through the air to come to rest at my feet, forcing me to come face to face with the head of Lord Balthwin, a look of curiosity and disbelief still upon his countenance, stupefied at the audacity of the new general. I looked at my fellow sufferers beside me, to see the same disbelief on their faces as well. Hell, I probably look the same.

"You.... you.... you .... you.... what do you think you're doing? Men! Seize this bastard!" the officials raged and blustered, shaken at the loss of their head. A few stared with ambition, spotting a chance to rise the ranks, and they all called for the death of the general.

The person in question instead stared back, then rose his arm.

"My brothers, who am I?"

"YOU ARE THE GENERAL!"

"How did he address me?"

"WITH CONTEMPT!"

"What are the military codes for embezzlement, disrespect for the direct superior, as well as attempted bribery?"

"DEATH!"

"SEIZE THEM ALL!" As he roared, he lowered his raised arm in a flash, akin to an executioner's blade. At this signal, the 30-odd men who rode with him rushed out, a torrential flood rushing across the field, capturing all the officials present as well as those not present, riding into the compounds to seize all those who attempted escape.

Like a typhoon, the General came. Like a typhoon rushing through the alleyways of the slums, forcing the rats out of hiding into the light, he came to clean up this shithole.

And then, after it was all over, in front of us shivering, confused, mortal soldier, he spoke.

"Well, I'm hungry now. What say we all get breakfast? WAHAHAHAHAHA!"