And now a snippet from an unnamed novel I've been piecing together for close to two decades:

As Tum Tum trudged along at the front of the line he couldn't help but find himself hating the worldly troubles that were brought about him recently. His village nickname managed to follow him into this mercenary corp and he made a horrible first impression on his squad commander. With the hair let loose about the shoulders an' chain mail hugging to every curve of that slender body, anybody would've mistaken the commander for a woman too right? At least without hearing the squad commander's strong baritone voice ringing throughout the camp. There was a reason he was at the very front of the vanguard. Life hated him.

In retrospect, it seems that life always had misgivings aplenty to send his way.
Three weeks ago he was the son of a famed merchant, and lacking all of his skills. The series of events that lead to his friends thinking he lost his virginity to livestock. His only meager claim to fame in his village was that bottomless "Tum Tum" of his that lead to his victory at the annual grape festival as a child. When the Deviled Rapiers settled in, he saw an opportunity with this mercenary corp to make a better name for himself. To be more than the tavern's stableman. To actually bed women without the use of currency. To actually be respected.

This was a great start.

At least they were no longer marching under the harsh glare of the sun he told himself..
A week's march had brought them into the forested outskirts of the Kingdom of Dainian. A kingdom rife with civil war after the unexpected loss of it's monarch. Torn between the court officials that turned the child-king into a puppet and the lords that fought alongside the late monarch to bring peace to the region a decade ago.
Tum Tum didn't care much for that. In his quiet village, all he heard about was the Kingdom's specialization of the Rifle. He figured any region that can mass-produce weapons like that would certainly be a wealthy one. One that an average height, average build, average kind of nameless villager could take advantage of.

As he looked around he felt certain that he had something in common with the group members.
A ragtag group of adventurers that felt they had to take what they wanted from the world because it refused to give it to them. Positive thinking. Belief in my comrades. Tum Tum felt that would be enough to get him through the rough times ahead of him.

The problem with working odd jobs in the village is that it never afforded him the need to kill anybody.
Would it be easy for him? Could he go through with it? Would he be able to deal with the guilt after the fact? He gripped the spear his father gave him before he left. Quite generous of him, seeing as how no one would buy it. A cursed spear found on the battlefields the local legends stated. It'll get the job done, that's the only thing that mattered. A few more days, he'd be at the royal palace. In a week, on the battlefield. Pointy end goes into fleshy part. Simple. All too simple.

Much like the path they were on.
Just a simple shortcut their guide found running through the woods. A simple path that caused them to march shoulder to shoulder with the man next to them. Full of simple foliage. Simple rocks. Simple shade providing trees. Simple sounds of animals running through the forest. Simple sounds of thunder echoing through the forest.

"Strange. I don't remember any signs of storms when we first entered." Tum Tum stated to his new friend Geoff.
Geoff, normally the talkative one of the group was staring blankly at his chest. His fingers running over a hole he didn't remember being there.

What Tum Tum found himself staring at was the direct result of one of those famed rifles he heard about.
If he didn't find himself with an arrow suddenly protruding from his neck, he probably would've taken the time to recognize the sheer power of this newer weapon. As he watched Geoff fall forward into the ground, Tum Tum felt his legs give out from underneath him. The only thing he could think to himself while the world around him slowly faded into darkness was: "Man. Life really hates me."
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This "Realm" I created started back in my Junior High days as a comic book I wrote/illustrated.
It was a fantasy realm full of swords, guns, magic, dragons, and fighters that were on par with the Dragonball Z series.
By the time it got to the end of the High school years, it had evolved into a graphic novel.
Gone were the fantasy elements. In it's place was a focus on kingdom politics & military tactics because those were subjects I thoroughly enjoyed learning about.
Fast forward to the college years and beyond.
It's still heavy on the political intrigues between factions & kingdoms. There's still a premium on military tactics. It's just edged slightly towards a steampunk vibe. At least with some of the Countries/Kingdoms/Principalities entering the Industrialized Age sooner than their counterparts.

Where this particular scene fits in?
I'm not sure.
In my years of playing around with this world I've managed to build up generations of history and culture.
At least I have more things to put on paper now.

But since I'm a fan of mixing things up, my next online posting'll probably be a song.
Melody gets stuck in my head, you get to enjoy/suffer the end result.