It inflicted terrible wounds upon me before I was able to defeat it. Until the day when I disturbed a mountain bear during a hunt. I learned the language, worked alongside her to help grow crops and spiced up her meals with game from my hunts. One day, when the fatigue of loneliness and fever overcame my courage and strength, a barbarian woman, surrounded by a handful of frail children, took me in and gave me food. Washed up on these shores at the edge of the world, surrounded by nothing but waves until the setting of the sun, I gave up on searching for a way south. And yet we knew that for most of us, this battle would be our last… Why did his inflexible desire to conquer the world have to lead him, lead us, to the injustice, the excess and the madness of these massacres? We entered the final battle against the Indians with fear and disgust in our bellies, but only because you asked us to, Ptolemy. I remember this young, flamboyant king, intriguing and invincible, sitting astride his great stallion Bucephalus and for whom each of his men would have given their life without hesitation. What became of you after the defeat at the Hydaspes? What became of our King, whom I saw fall and then carried away on a stretcher from the battlefield under your orders? I rid myself of the chain that still shackled my ankles by smashing it against the rocks and, alone and free at last, I left the sea behind me, its waves filled with more sweat and blood than the battlefields I traversed with you, my General, in pursuit of glory for Alexander the Great. I was carried away with the debris of the vessel to an unknown shore. I lived as a slave until a storm smashed my last master's ship to pieces. Seasons, then years of slavery went by thus, where I was batted from sea to land and back to sea again, discovering the vastness and the diversity of this world that Alexander wanted to rule. The wound in my thigh healed unusually quickly and nobody could have guessed what was hidden there. I survived as a piece of human merchandise, brute force allowing me to take an oar without whining or begging. This sea was the setting for a procession of battles between barbarians each more bloodthirsty than the last. The survivors were chained to the oars, slaves to a merciless whip and so began my life as a galley slave. The pirates killed anyone whose injuries were too severe, plundered our ship’s cargo and sank it to the bottom of the ocean. I sliced my thigh open, slid the object you had given me into the wound and bandaged my leg with a rag torn from the sail. I fought valiantly with the crew, but I soon realised that the assailants had the upper hand and so I decided to take a gamble. Bringing themselves alongside us, they began to board. The pirates were as ferocious as they were cunning. I was just beginning to enjoy the rolling waves when, after many miles at sea, we were attacked by a galley. By means of gestures, and showing some of the gold coins you had entrusted to me, I was able to book passage with the captain of one of the ships for myself, but not for my horse. I found a harbour where a few merchant ships were docked. I had no option but to travel westwards along the coast, hoping to find a way to cross this sea and continue my path south. Then the mountains, valleys and plains gave way to a vast expanse of saltwater. I occasionally had to use my sword to cut my way through, choosing to avoid human contact from them on. I was not able to use your pass with the barbarian tribes I came across they spoke an incomprehensible language and proved to be hostile. I rode tirelessly southwards through these lands. My General, have I failed this mission you entrusted to me? This page contains the story of the Legendary divine, Tormenta, directly copied from the game page.
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