72

Here I write my last confession. I pray you read it well.
   I lived long as a mercenary serving many warlords all over the known world. I ended more lives than can be counted by all the adepts of the High Council. I have led regiments against ruler and peasant alike. Few can claim to have caused as much suffering for the widows and fatherless as I. Yet I feel no remorse for what I did, for I have given my sister and her children a life they otherwise would not have.
   The family I was born to lived as farmers on the republic's edge and were often harassed by bandits and raiders who stole food and coin alike. They came one day to claim their loot but found none, for the harvest had been poor, and instead they burned down the houses, killed the adults, and enslaved the children. That day I was torn from my whole family, including my sister who was sold to a wealthy merchant at first notice while I remained with the slavers.
   I was brought across the unclaimed territories and eventually sold to a fighting ring as fodder for the audience's entertainment. Miraculously I survived far longer than they had expected and joined the regular roster as a fighter, slowly climbing to become the main attraction. My success was so great I managed to buy my freedom and pay for my way back homewards where I managed to track down my sister.
   The merchant owned many businesses in several towns and had decided my sister would be his assistant in taking care of affairs as well as keeping his bed warm for the nights. After weeks of planning I found out which tavern they were going to visit and when, and then I struck. My blade cut deep in the fat man's throat as he drowned in his own blood as he slept. My sister, not recognizing me, screamed for the guards and forced me to escape before my own life would be cut short. I left my sister again for the second time and would never meet her face to face ever again.
   I joined up with a band of mercenaries and headed off to war. We mainly plundered villages in the outskirts of the enemy territories, but at times we joined with the main forces to fight in the vanguard. My taste for blood grew even greater than it had been during my time as a pit fighter and my skill improved vastly. I took great care to make sure that parts of my payment found their way back to my sister, who would probably have been thrown out on the streets after the merchant's murder. The mercenary profession brought me far and wide as I unknowingly helped my sister build her business empire.
   After several years I decided to pay my sister another visit again. I found her having settled down in the nation's capital, but when I was going to approach her she was joined by her husband and their children. They were all clad in silks and jewellery while I wore a warrior's garb tattered by time. While we shared blood I would never be of the same world as my sister again, and so I left before any off them could see me. I continued sending my earnings but never attempted to visit again.
   Now as death approaches I consider myself lucky to die of age, even if I die alone, for I have lived a warrior's life of violence and death, and prevailed. I have no regrets for through my killings I have provided for what family I have left.
   This has been my last confession. I pray you read it well.

Ben 'Orphan' Intyre
Uncle, Fighter, Provider