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Tex

A loose page brushes your foot.....

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Day 46

My hands are bloodied and battered, but I don't really notice the pain anymore. I know the work I am doing is just and right. I must do it. For if not me, then who? I remind myself that I'm not in it for the fame, the publicity. That's not what I want the name Maximus to be remembered for. No, I do it for them. The Testificates. I've seen far too much suffering and damage to let it continue anymore. Maybe one day I'll get back to my studies. After all, I think I'm really the only Testificatologist I know of. It's as if it's a field of study nobody has ever tried to pick up before. They're so fascinating, really (I realize as I write I'm rambling, but I'll let it be, I'm on a roll here). Their culture, their architecture, physiology. I haven't had the chance to give any a proper medical examination, but maybe one day. I want to learn all I can from them. I would have happily spent the rest of my days studying if it weren't for those damn bandits. Not a day goes by that I don't regret not getting back just a few minutes earlier. Maybe I could have scared them away. Maybe I could have stopped the fires before they got out of control. 

But I couldn't.

So now I work my mine, I cut my trees, I make friends with the nearby coastal village. I build my Keep, and I work so that one day, I can bring the fight to each and every village I see. Who else would unite them rather than exploit them? Serve them rather than steal their food? Protect them rather than slaughter them? I must gather people to the cause. But that can come one day.

One glorious day. Damn, it's night time again. Why are the days only twelve damn minutes long?

 

[Character profile/backstory for Maximus, character of Tex_97]

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