Cal watched the soldiers walk by in rows of three. Their amour, shields, and swords clanking as they walked through the small town. They were heading west twords the Sea Port of Velia to board transport ships to fight against the savage Dral tribes in the western mountains.
Cal knew they were marching to their deaths. The incompetent generals had no chance, not even against the brainless Dral. The last two campaigns were a complete disaster resulting in embarrassing defeats that shamed the whole Caligan Empire. Sometimes Cal wished he was born in a respectable Empire or territory. But Cal was loyal, in fact it was perhaps his most prominent trait. He would stay loyal to the end.
"At least I have history to be proud of," Cal murmured to himself. " Not many can say there empire once ruled the world."
The last of the soldiers past Cal and the rest of the villagers. The crowds that lined the streets slowly trickled away, as the sun set below the mountains to the west. Cal decided to it was time to call it a day as well, and head home.
Cal's house wasn't nearly the worst in the small village but it was certainly nothing to brag about. It had an large oak door with the families crest burnt into it. Two snakes wrapping around a cross on a kite shield.
Cal's father died in the first war against the Dral nearly 15 years ago when Cal was but a little kid. Cal didn't remember his father at all. His mother passed away from illness around two years ago leaving Cal alone. Luckily his mother left all her possessions to Cal including a hefty amount of gold. Most of it was compensation for his fathers death. Normally you wouldn't get much or anything at all for a death in a war, but Cal's dad was the leader of the south east militia in the Provence of Grandal.
Cal's parents could easily afford a much nicer house in the city, but they preferred the quiet life. Cal fiddled in his pocket for the key and unlocked the door. The large oak door creaked open revealing a slightly above average house. He walked in the center room where the table and the fire place were. He stoked the dying flames in the fire place then put two more logs in to keep his home warm for the night. Nights in Grandal didn't get very cold but Cal liked sleeping with the fire. It had such a relaxing noise, and the smell of the oak burning reminded him of the past when his mother used to tend to the fire.
Cal then walked to his small room as laid down on the straw bed. Cal stared at the familiar ceiling as his eyes slowly fluttered closed.