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I left a lot of stuff sort of sparse to leave it open for development. In general, its a very unpleasant place to live, and everything is built around sustaining the nation's defenses.

CS: https://www.rpnation.com/threads/legion-of-the-damned.332579/ Lore: https://www.rpnation.com/threads/legion-of-the-damned.332578/

I'll start working on the thread.

Alatan quivered with fear, his sword shaking in his unsteady grip. The horde was just across the valley, and he could hear the beating of their drums and their guttural roars at an almost deafening volume. Loraine, the commander of this vanguard, marched across the battle line. "Legionaries...

Meric sighs heavily and waves a hand in front of the young paladin's face. "And don't lose focus. An arrow at short range can travel fast enough to kill you in but a moment. Shield up, blade at the ready." He mutters, then draws his hand back. "And, kid. Don't ever volunteer to do anything...

Meric chuckles, first softly, though it reaches a crescendo before he stops. "Courage?" He asks, turning on his cot to face her. He pauses for a moment, if only for the sake of dramatic flair. "Courage isn't what makes you keep fighting. Fear is." Meric finally answers. "When your patrol is...

Meric shakes his head and sits up on his cot. "Just a man with a sword. Ain't no hero." He replies curtly, as if the idea of being considered a hero is somewhat offensive to him. "Heaven Leylight? Your parents must have been regular churchgoers." He mutters, raising one eyebrow. "I've got...

Meric was deep in thought when a soft voice broke his reverie. One weary eye opened to glance toward the opening of the tent, where a young woman was peeking in at him. He'd expected the intelligence interview to happen shortly, but, as of yet, none of the King's men had arrived. "I'm no sir...

Meric's wound had been festering and bubbling with a greenish-orange ichor for the few days after it had been inflicted. An abomination's cleaver had hacked through his left shoulder plate and given him a nearly fatal gash. Only the intervention of some healers, among them an orc shaman acting...

Meric Halwain had been twenty years old when the first war started. He had seen Stormwind fall to the Orcs all those years ago, as the onslaught from Draenor continued unabated. That was the first time he had lifted a sword, and he'd spilled blood in every war since - he served through the First...

Lore: In 1943, the world changed forever. Jeremy Pendrew, an 18 year old American soldier, deployed to the Pacific front. Through his first battle, he was just like any other child sent to wage war; afraid but reckless, tired yet longing to be a hero. His dreams were soon to come true...

Sarah's procedures went well - the woman was absurdly durable, as it turned out. She was conscious again before they expected her to be, but she was restrained all the same, so her feeble attempts at escape didn't mean much. By the time she fully regained consciousness, her escort was prepared...

"She'll be kept under lock and key, general. No need to worry." The Captain replies, saluting stiffly before turning around and exiting the hangar to return to the bridge. The clone squad trots back to their barracks, where they polish off and stow their equipment before heading to the medical...

The captain appears somewhat shocked by the mention of the woman's name. "You're sure? Sarah Vellis?" He murmurs, his gaze narrowing. "I commanded a vessel she served on, back when she was Republic Navy. She was part of a unit dedicated to cracking down on piracy. Special forces, something of a...

The Captain raises an eyebrow suspiciously, glancing across the bay at the woman strapped to a medical gurney. "Her? A Confederate officer? Did she give you a name, General?" He asks, thoughtfully tapping his chin. "If we can find any record of her, it would be helpful to go into the interview...

Sarah faded in and out of consciousness as the transport carried them back to the Perception. Once the dropship lands, a medical team enters the landing bay and takes Vex and Sarah away for treatment. The ship jumps to hyperspace moments after landing, just as the Confederate frigates prepared...

Sarah winces and braces herself on her left arm, ignoring the pain shooting up from her injured hand. "I'm just fine." She hisses, holding back tears as she forces herself to her feet. She avoids looking at her arm, well aware that the bone in her forearm is jutting out the underside of her arm...

Vex floats rigidly, taking care not to move his injured leg as the Jedi gives him a gentle, telekinetic nudge forward. He'd taken a moment to administer a small dose of a painkiller through his suit, and it was certainly helping as he navigated the hall full of floating trash. Sarah crawled...

Sarah dropped to the floor the second she heard the word bomb, curling up behind a pile of debris in the hope that cover would prevent any shrapnel or remaining blaster fire from hitting her. The grenade detonates with a dull thump, hurling droid limbs and parts all over the hallway. In the same...

Sarah's expression remains grim as she draws her heavy blaster pistol from its holster. "It would be easier to just finish him and get ourselves to safety." She comments, not even bothering to look at the injured clone. "Lead on, sir. I've been stuck here for nearly three days and would...