I was born killing.. Slayed my own mother during birthing. Killed my father at seven years of age. Murdered an Imperial guard in the juvenile slave pits and covered it up with an unlucky patsy. The elder fool died screaming his innocence in the damning flames where they chained him.
Now I, Ty DoL, named by my Centurian master AniBoL, walk a monster among men. I am being bestowed an enchanted Katar, marking my fiftieth kill for the Empire during Bounty Hunting season. An holistic coming-of-age honor for my lean muscled self. I am tall, handsome, and destined for the finest of wives. Nothing could go wrong.
AniBol raises his terrible growl. "Forward, my ward, and take your prize with it's rank of Sergeant. The youngest designation in our Legion's history since my own christening. You will murder and reave no longer, but be an honored grenadier of the militia."
Ty kneels to his master-of-arms, sweating head dipped low. "Yes, I do take this honor with love for the glory to be brought."
"Do you forsaken any attachments beyond our Imperial regime," bellowed AniBoL for the gathered bounty hunters around.
