It was the day before the siege of Jerusalem. You layed down on a meadow. Next to you layed Father leo. He was the head of the church in your village all the way back home.

*You were a British soldier in WW1 you just saw one of your comrades get a bullet through his skull you shake it off and keep on firing. You hadn't slept in what seems like weeks. Then a cold skeletal arm touches your shoulder*

your a french soldier in Leipzig you got separated from your fellow soldiers and encounter an infected cuirassier (art by me)

*you and your comrades enter the horse guards through a balcony just to be met whit Arthur Wellesley pointing his pistol towards you* Scum... Scum of the earth really. *lowers pistol* Here after all the troop gentlemen deserted their posts?