Chronicles of the War Surgeon

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Chronicles of the War Surgeon

Message par Rycen le Lun 25 Sep - 20:31

*Pour votre joie et bonheur, ce texte est ecrit pour qu"il sois traduisible par google translate. Vous pouvez donc apprecier les chroniques dans la langue de votre choix. Je vais ecrire au cours de l'anner ou je ne pourrais probablement pas etre present, dans le but de garder un peu de Arkadia dans mon coeur. Aussi, le but de ce texte est de partager un style de vie. Bonne lecture!*

Dear journal. I am now on my way to the imperial camp. Nervosity seem to be my only companion on this journey. I have heard that I would be trained first before reaching the front. Formed to what, they would not tell me until I get there. I tried to sleep earlier but I had strange dreams, fragments of a life that is not my own. I don't know how long this trip will be, but I just left today and I am already eager to go back home.

Others are with me, they look miserable, broken, sad and lonely. I tried to talk to one of them, but he had as much conversational skill as a kettle. From what I could understand, they were conscript with the imperial infantry, peasant torn from their familly, leaving wifes and children alone to fight a war that is not really theirs. They are scared of dying, they are scared of never going back home, they are scared of what will happen if their son become old enough to be conscripted themselves before the war is over. I am not afraid of those things, my fear is far worse. What I fear while going there, is to loose myself. I fear I might become something I don't want to be.

I don't know how long I will be there, but I hope it will be short.
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Re: Chronicles of the War Surgeon

Message par Rycen le Dim 1 Oct - 19:48

I arrived two days ago and I already want to leave. I don't think this place is for me... The others that travelled with me were placed in platoons according to their talents. I joined the 5th Imperial Logistic Regiment, along with other priest and healers. Our barrack is in the middle of the camp, which could definitely be worse.

On day one, they took my things, said they would be stored until I am done here. I tried to tell them that I needed my tools to work, but the only thing I got was a very unpleasant, one way conversation with the sergeant.
The concept of comfort seem to never have reached this place, I can feel the wind through the walls and beds are really just bags of hay on a flimsy frame. The room I sleep in has about 20 other persons in it, privacy is apparantely another foreign concept.

On day two, things were not looking any brighter. The sun was not even visible yet when they came to wake us up. After 3 laps around the camp, we had 10 minutes to eat. I have to look at the bright side of things, the heavy infantry platoon is having it much harder than us, they did the same thing as us but in their armor. I talked to one of them that has been in this camp for a month now, they live in those armor. One of their new recruits fell down during the run. I remember him from our travel here, he is only a farmer, can't be more than 18 years old. I tried to help him, but they wouldn't let me. His instructor was yelling at him to get up but the poor boy was already exhausted. I don't know what happened to him, but I have been told not to worry, apparantely the weaks don't last long here...

The rest of the day was interesting, we learned how great the empire was and how dying in the name of the emperor was the most glorious thing someone could possibly desire. They also mentionned that only death await traitors and deserters.
Will I end up like them? I hope I will die first...
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Re: Chronicles of the War Surgeon

Message par Rycen le Lun 16 Oct - 20:47

Has it really been two weeks? Time doesn't seem to have a lot of meaning in this place. I am not sure how long this will last, or how long I will last. It is like they are trying to break us, mentally, emotionnaly and physically, like they are trying to reshape us into something they want, caring not for who we are.

The physical exercise are harsh, and now the cold of the coming winter is making things worse. Some are sick, we are all exhausted, no one is enjoying their time here. Is it a game they are playing? If it is, there doesn't seem to have any rules beside the one they choose, something that is true one day is false the next, and they call us naive for believing them. Why are they doing this? What is it supposed to acheive? "Why", that's a word they hate... I learned to stop asking why on the first week when the whole platoon went on a forced march for a day because I asked why. I did not make friends that day... But then, is that what they wanted? Did they wanted me to feel guilty by involving everybody else because I was too stupid to keep quiet? Or is it that they felt the others should have kept me quiet? I don't know anymore, I am too exhausted to think.

I have not been sleeping well lately either, those weird dreams are haunting my nights again. They are vivid nightmares of torture, but I am not me in my dream. Who am I then? Why do I still feel the burning iron on my skin in the morning, why does the screams somehow sound familiar, like a memory long forgotten? The first part of the dream is always the same though, two people, a men and a women, killed violently before the eyes of their childrens. A cry for help pierce the night but I can't make out what they say, nor can I see who scream.

Is it this place that does this to me? I am not sure of anything anymore and I feel like it will not get better in the near future. It is hard to keep going but what other choice do I have? Like the others, I have people that I care about. Last week they had a chat with us, individually. One by one we went and one by one we got out of there feeling less in control. The content changes but the speech remained the same; we have people we care about and they know it, and they threatened every single one of us of taking those thing, and make them theirs. Guenievre, Thomas, Serge, they know of them. If I am not going to comply, one of them might. But I won't allow it, and for that I keep walking, I keep fighting. But I am so tired... Will they break me?
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Re: Chronicles of the War Surgeon

Message par Rycen le Mar 19 Déc - 22:06

How long has it been since I wrote? I can't remember... I look at the dates in this journal and they now make no sense even to me. I haven't written in far too long, and been in this hell for what now seem an eternity. Much happened since last time, where to begin?

I guess a good first is that I am now officialy an imperial soldier. My formation was finished and I left battle school. I don't know why I haven't took the time to write, maybe it was because the war already catched up to us... To go back maybe a month ago from now, we were already down to 30 candidate out of 54, things were not going very well. Our instructors were probably clinically insane, but my diagnosis has no bearing over the events that occured. It was simply grueling. Sometimes we were inspected, then they would disturb everything and would give us 20 minutes to prepare for another inspection. Of course our stuff could not be better then what it was! And they knew it, but they would yell at us and punish us nonetheless. Remember when i said war catched up to us? Well it was the last day, during the graduation parade.

It was another cold, miserable day, surrounded by mud, dirt and snow. The same landscape that witnessed our ordeal as a class, was now the background of a day that should have been the only happy day for us in this place. We were proud that day, proud that we accomplished something that we all thought impossible, proud of surviving this ordeal, as a team, as a familly... The bond that we created during our moment of suffering and misery would likely last a lifetime, and I knew, I knew most of those people would be dead within the next year. I knew we would all be deployed on a front very shortly, me included. But to go back to that day, well the front came to us. We were attacked in the forenoon by an unknown ennemy, unknown to us at least. A quarter of the camp was wiped out, the rest managed to escape. I was leaving this place with the rest of my troop towards the nearest imperial camp and I can still see the flames over the trees, that eerie orange glow through the falling snow. I can still hear the scream of those less fortunate, those who fell to an inglorious death.

The camp was just as comfortable as battle school, I found myself reassured by the similarities. What an odd feeling... We got dispatched to our new unit the morning after, only a few of the other healers came with me. We were a small platoon walking toward Fort Hordrigg, our new home for the foreseeable future. That was two weeks ago.

Now I do what I can to stay alive, and to keep those around me healthy. I don't think it will be enough.
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