sad, short, and end-of-the-world type of story
My name is Radd, I am a Rotilian, this means that I was born, raised, and (if things don't change) I will die, in the village named Rotilia.
But if I was to explain this, we would have to go back fifteen years to when I was fourteen, back to when this whole thing started...
Roeilia is a mining village, nestled in the Vacol mountains. This is good for two reasons,one, we have a large supply of iron, gold, silver, tin, copper, but the most important, (and cause of this whole mess) the black powder more commonly known as gunpowder. And two, it was almost impossible for Matril to attack us, (or so we thought.)
You see, Matril is the largest military presence in the world, and it takes pride in being one of the most advanced when it comes to war, Muskets, sabers, and flint-lock pistols.
This was the most advance weaponry of the time until one of our inventors came up with something that would change the world, the revolver, the original six-shot was called a Bulldog, and was the most powerful hand held weapon ever made.
After that people came out with many largely unsuccessful versions of this weapon, then two different, Rotilian inventors blew our minds at the same time coming up with two new guns, the Spearhead, and the Clockwork rifle.
The Spearhead was a newer revolver, longer barrel for greater accuracy, larger hammer for more power, and twelve shots, it was by far the most powerful gun of its time.
The Clockwork was a rifle with the Bulldog's idea, it was a long-distance six-shot rifle, it was the most reliable and most accurate rifle ever made, and because its closest competitor was a Musket, it was quite a gun.
We hadn't noticed, but we had started the firearms revolution, and the rest of the world was catching on.
When I was nineteen, so ten years ago, two things happened that would change my life for ever, the first was I lost my left eye, it was the first major injury I ever got. And the second was one of our guns had found its way into Matril, which sent us a messenger , and two bodyguards. The messenger was trying to tell us that we were now part of the Matril nation and therefore all our inventions, as well as the mine was all Matrilian. Nether the messenger nor the bodyguards returned, and we hung the bodies as a warning.
But now we had pissed off the largest military, and we knew it would come to war.
Most of us said, “bring it on.” but we only had around a thousand people in the entire village, and as we soon learned Matril didn't even have a limit on how many people is could send.
It has been ten years, and now I look at a hundred and fifty people hiding in the mines as the soldiers march around outside burning our homes, killing our friends and family, and taking our weapons to kill us with. We are all that is left of our once great village, and if thing keep up like this, we won't last much longer.
Every one here looks to me as the leader, it might be because I came back from battles as the only survivor too many times to count. and with one eye, I'd say that's pretty damn good.
But still the soldiers come, and we hold them off with the Spearhead and Clockwork, we fight tooth and nail to push them out. Evey time I pull the trigger on this gun, I see my little sister, and the horrible way that she died right in front of me.
But Matril doesn't get it, this is our home, and we will fight to the death to get it back, and were not all dead yet.