Anyways, I, as stated before, am Talus, the seventeen year old ruler of Merca. Psh. What a stupid name for an eminent country, it sounds like a disease. However, it does sound up or jobs. Merca is populated by mercenaries. (Clever, isn’t it?)
You’re probably wondering how a nation
can survive when all of its citizens are mercenaries. Well, you’re stupid. We’re warriors for hire. We get paid food, supplies, sometimes land, and the most important thing of all: Money. With money, we can buy anything we want.

You’re probably wondering something else. How in hell can a seventeen year old be the ruler of a whole nation? Well, My father, the former king, recognized me as his most skilled son, and therefore I became his successor when he kicked the bucket.
Some people say I’m harsh, brash, idiotic, cold, and numerous other pleasant descriptions.

Oh well. I’m a king. It’s not my job to listen to insults. It’s my job to lead…And to kill people for money.