XOCO

"Wind's howling." A certain Master Sergeant remarks as he trots along the Orenian countryside atop his faithful steed.

One Master Sergeant Ezekiel Moores would march with great pride, his prized zweihander hoisted over his gleaming white pauldron. "Perhaps this one'll give me better pay than the last, eh?" He laughs heartily at his own remark, a loud and disorienting clang resonating from his suit of armour as he slapped a gauntleted hand into his equally protected thigh.

+1!!!!!! Very nice 👍 I can't wait to RP as Irelia.

"Damn straight boys!" Sergeant Ezekiel Moores grins brazenly as he reads over the news of the victory. "Oren aut mortem!"

Ezekiel Moores stares blankly at the missive. "Utterly bas-" He pauses, rephrasing. "Utterly rooted in facts and logic, and most definitely not ironic."

"It's a good day to be a dragooner." Sergeant Ezekiel Moores says, grinning as he places the new green-feathered beret on his head.

Ezekiel Moores roared as raised his bloodied blade in victory as he looked over the corpses of his enemies. "Well, at least I didn't kill Jack." He mumbled, as a slight wave of guilt overcame him. He wiped his blade down with a rag and placed it back in its scabbard. "Still won though." The man sighed, before thrusting his fist in the air and letting out another fearsome cry of victory, "OREN AUT MORTEM!"

"That's reassuring, I suppose." A troubled Ezekiel Moores mumbles to himself.

"Why did it have to be you two that had to be captured?" Corporal Ezekiel Moores turned away at the sound of the Ranger's neck snapping. He buried his face into his palms, letting out a muffled scream. He looked back up, staring at the limp body before him. His eyes were dejected. Hollow. Ezekiel Moores was no longer the man he once was. "Dulce et decorum est, pro patria mori." He utters, with a tinge of bitter-sweet under his breath.

"WHAT." Ezekiel Moores stood there in shock. If he were older by even a year, it was likely the man would have suffered a heart attack on the spot. "What... What the hell, Eugeo?"

"Liluth said that?" A surprised Ezekiel Moores would remark, a hint of confusion in his voice. The man was first and foremost an Orenian soldier, yet, experienced a true clash of emotions upon witnessing a ranger he knew openly condemn her country. "Oren aut... mortem." He uttered under his breath, almost instinctively. "Wait, what?"

Ezekiel Moores frowns as he reads the missive. "Guess I can't be visiting the lads in Elysium anymore. Oh Jack, you were a wonderful friend. And you too, Ellanore," He says, in a mockingly dramatic tone, "Oh the cruel and fickle mistress that is Fate! Why must you punish me so?" He trudges towards the Bastion's armoury, rolling up an ISA poster and placing it in his satchel. "Hm. Can't be putting up ISA posters in the Ranger's Keep during wartime. Damned shame." The corporal sighs.

The wounded Corporal Ezekiel Moores would raise a bottle in toast from his hospital bed. "Oren aut Mortem!"

A loud caw would wake the Corporal from his peaceful blast potion induced slumber in the training grounds of the Bastion. "Wh-wha?" Ezekiel Moores would state, flustered, as he brushed broken glass from his bright red uniform. He seized the message from the bird with great haste, accidentally tearing a part of the already tattered letter as he did so. The man took a quick skim of the letter's contents, before flinging it dismissively into the wind. It folded and curled and finally, took flight over the Bastion's wall before Ezekiel would make his remark. "I'm sorry... Signed... Lisa? Who the hell is Lisa? I can barely read this thing..." He mumbled in a slight fit of anger at being awoken, before turning to face the bird, "Wrong person, idiot." The bird cawed once more, before Ezekiel finally stormed off back to his dorm to take a proper nap, without interruption.

"That's me boys!" Corporal Ezekiel Moores chuckled, as he read the report.

RP Name: Ezekiel MooresMC Name: XocolataphobiaVoted: Yes :)

RP Name: Ezekiel Moores MC Name: Xocolataphobia Voted: Yes

"The Ministry of Justice has gone too far with this one." Ezekiel Moores would shake his head in disapproval.

Corporal Ezekiel Moores would grimace while reading the report, disgusted with its findings. "Bloody hell... Women and children? If only we killed those damned goats earlier..." He mumbled to himself, still furious.

Corporal Ezekiel Moores would lean into his seat, cracking open a fresh bottle of Telemarian Vodka. "I didn't tackle some crazed private out of a window just for you to die..." He mumbled, "Well, at least I hope the bottles I left you eased the pain." He downed a shot, refilled his glass, then looking up to the ceiling of the dormitory, would speak aloud to himself. "A shame I never knew you well. Kind of makes me wish I attended more regiment addresses. Regardless, here's a toast to heroes. March on, General." The corporal would raise his glass in the air in a toast to his recently passed comrade.

Ezekiel Moores roared in laughter at the news of the Sedanites' latest defeat. "For a so-called fearsome warriors, these lads are awfully shite, aren't they? 6 Orenian victories in a row?! Are you taking the piss mate?" He took a large gulp from the tankard of ale before him, and then raised it in the air in a cheer for his comrades in the ISA, "AVE OREN!"