Ronin was a young Easterling, though he had been training all his life.

As an Easterling, the life of a warrior started before you were even born. Whilst your mom still carried you, she was made to fight in training exercises in hope that she could start to pass on her knowledge to you before you were even born. Soon after a new Easterling was born, he was taken to training camp each day to sit and watch his older companions train for hours on end. By the time they were able to lift a wooden sword, their sole drive was to train. To an Easterling, the way of a warrior was paramount. It was this Path and their Honor to guide them which came first. They would even betray their family to follow their Path. For if their family was not on the Path, then they surely must have lost their Honor as well. But soon all of Ronin's training would pay off. Even with only eighteen summers behind him, he was already more then a match for any of the "Free People's" fighters. Some say even an Easterling of 18 could best an elf, given half the chance. Not too long ago, a call to arms was heard. His entire tribe had at once headed the call and every man, woman, and child had to fight for the right to be able to follow their Captain to war. Ronin was one of the lucky ones. It was a cool day when he first saw the Uruk-Hai. His captain had told him that one of Sauron's legions had gone rogue and they were to put an end to it. That was his first taste of battle. Since he had not yet earned the prestige to wield a halberd, he was in the front rank with a simple sword and shield. All for the better however; he had nearly two decades training with these weapons and he felt he new them better then himself. He had been told that these Uruk-Hai had no Honor and that they betrayed their Master. Therefore, have no mercy upon them. Since these were creatures of no Honor, Ronin had thought it would be easy killing them. However, one of the strict codes of the Path was to never underestimate you opponent, no matter how weak they may look: the Hobbits had held their own after all. It was a good thing that Ronin headed the Path. As soon as he met his first Uruk-hai, he learned quickly just how powerful these creatures were. You could not simply slice their arm and shove them to the ground, you needed to cut their throat, slice their leg's major artery and then slice their throat again. Then maybe they'd die. If it had not been for Ronin's training guiding his movements and honing his relaxes to such a high standard, he would have surly died after meeting his first foe. Not to say that he didn't come away with some bruises. His phalanx had dealt with the first wave of Uruk-Hia well enough, but their was more to come. This time, Ronin was not so lucky in besting his foe. He met his next Uruk-Hia and he instantly brought his shield up and took a low shot at the monster's leg, however, this creature would have had none of it and jumped back while bringing his sword, gripped with both hands, straight down on Ronin's shield. Men had not the strength of

Uruk-Hai and Ronin fell. The Uruk-Hai charged the failing Ronin and brought his sword down in a sweeping arc. With a flash, a unnamed pikeman parried the Uruk-Hia's strike while two more spit it through the chest. Their pikes exploding out the monster's back in a spray of black gore. Ronin quickly recovered, yet another reflex mastered through training, and loped the struggling Uruk-Hia's head cleanly from it's shoulders. A quick nod to the veterans and Ronin searched for another target. It was night time and Ronin was sitting out by his tent. His warband had lost a few good men that day, first timers who were not as lucky as Ronin. They were given full burial rights and now epic stories of the past and recent victories were being exaggerated around the camp's fires. Ronin however, needed to be by himself. He had a few things to contemplate. While he was polishing his shield, his traced the deep grove wrought through the middle of his shield. He had been more then lucky this day. His life was almost taken by a monster with no honor. But he had survived and learned from the experience. And now, there was much cleaning, polishing, and organizing to be done. He would not, however, rework his shield to rid it of the gash. He needed a reminder of the lessons learned as well as those bound to follow. A great chorus of drunken greetings arose from around the bonfire. Ronin looked up expecting to see his Captain, but was surprised to see a figure he did not recognize. It was a warrior from another tribe, that much was apparent. Instead of the solid, scaled bronze armor of the Easterlings, this warrior wore nothing but a cloak. Instead of a sword or a halberd, he carried a bow and a spear. Could these be the allying warband his Captain was talking about? They were people from the East and he had heard rumors that they did not hold their honor like an Easterling, but they held it enough to be trusted. He also heard that they did not shower. His suspicions were confirmed when a pungent odor, carried by the night time breeze overwhelmed his senses. Yup, this would be them. Ronin when back to his cleaning and tried to empty his mind of the stench. His drunken comrades were already having a good time hassling the visitor for the smells. Some comparing them to their wives' cooking. Good times were had at camp fires. That was for certain. They were on the march again. This time they were with their new allies. Ronin had only caught a few glimpses of a man cloaked in shadow that lead this new warband, and guessed at who he could be. He had heard rumors of an assassin in the ranks, and had also heard stories of Sauron's Assassins, but had never actually seen one. If this shadow of a man was an assassin, he hoped he was as good as the stories proclaimed. This time, they met up with their real foe. The Grey Company. They had been hunters as long as Ronin had been a warrior and they had laid their trap perfectly. From thin air, hundreds of arrows appeared and fell upon the rans of, what Ronin considered to be,

Sauron's finest. Many of the newcomers fell; their cloaks offering little defense against an arrow. Very few of the Easterlings failed to raise their shield against the new threat and fewer still were actually wounded. In a flash, Ronin's phalanx ran towards the woods, their training was kicking in once again. Ronin also saw the assassin keeping pace with them: his gait propelled him effortlessly towards the enemy. As Ronin curiously watched him, he appeared to melt into the shadows and fade form sight. Well, so much for him helping, Ronin thought to himself. They made it to the forest and they could now see their ambushers. These were men of the forest and masters of the bow. But they were not Uruk-Hai and Ronin felt confident that he could best each one in single combat. Not that he would get the chance however. These men were patient and waited for the Easterlings to close. They opened fire. At this extreme range, Easterling armor offered little protection. Ronin was hit in the shoulder. The barbed steel arrow head pierced his armor and tore through his muscles. He fell to the ground in agony. His Phalanx continued on and tried to get to the Grey Company, yet they ran. These hunters retreated deeper into the forest, trying to lay yet another trap. You could not kill a bowmen with a sword if you could not close with him. This was a lesson that these Hunters seemed to know. Every few moments, they would turn, unleash hell into the perfect phalanx, and retreat into the forest yet again. At this rate, Ronin's comrades would have no chance at victory, they would all die here. And to these honorless hunters as well. Just then, a shadow appeared behind the Grey Company's lines. Within moments, three men were struck down, screaming as poison coursed through their system, turning their flesh black and ravaging their organs. Then the shadow darted to the left and more men fell screaming. Ronin could barely see it from his spot in the undergrowth, but he new it was the assassin. The Hunters recovered quickly and one stopped to knock an arrow and took careful aim. The Assassin was to far away to hit the man, but it mattered not. This creature of Death producer two throwing daggers, oozing with poison and hurled them at the man. Both hit home and the man was dead before he hit the ground. The assassin again plunged into the Grey Company's lines and killed wherever he went. He was Death Incarnate and there was no escape. He danced around the men's swords and killed with each swipe. He was one hundred percent efficient at his task and not a drop of poison was wasted. Soon Ronin's Phalanx was upon them and it was over. Hunters are no match for Warriors in close combat, and with one of Sauron's assassins in their ranks, the master hunters had no hope. Ronin awoke hours later to a surgeon prodding around in his shoulder. The pain was completely unbearable: he screamed for a second before the blackness overtook him.

He awoke again only to find himself alone in the medical tent. his right side some how felt lighter and as he turned to see, he opened a stitch and was in agony. blood squirted and he shouted for help. The last thing he remembered before he succumbed to blood loss, was the bleak look on the surgeon's face as he burst through the tent. Days passed and still Ronin slept. His warband had gone on to achieve their goal and were now on the way home. Ronin eventually awoke in his own home to find his mother sitting on the side of his bed. She was saying something about an infection and it'll be ok. When he looked down, he was horrified: his sword arm was missing. His heart filled with dread. How could he be an Easterling without the ability to fight? What would he do now? His life, as he knew it, had ended. Ronin eventually gained the ability to get out of bed an walk throughout the tribe, though it did little to lighten his mood. Everything he had ever known was now a dream. A memory locked in the past to mock him time and time again. He felt so lonely. The sole purpose of an Easterling was to follow the Warrior's Path. That Path required one more arm then he had. As he wondered, he found himself in part of the tribe he had never been. The steady "ting, ting, ting" signaled that he must be near the blacksmiths. he had always been curious how the weapons of war were made, and so he wondered closer. Inside he could see a bulky man standing over a shapeless glowing piece of iron. The man was hitting the steel over and over again and Ronin let himself play with the idea of becoming an blacksmith. After all, he could just fashion a clamp to hold the iron for him. But as he silently watched the man at his work, he slowly realized the between each blow of the hammer, the piece of steel was repositioned, accuracy and efficiently. No clamp could do that. Ronin deflated. It was just another vocation he could not have, another happiness he could not know becuase of some lowly, honorless, hunter. Saddened by his new discovery, he turned to leave. As he turned he nearly ran into a man. This man had been quietly observing him for some time now. Easterling life was not that complicated and this man knew exactly what Ronin was experiencing. Ronin and this man stared at each other for a while. Neither saying anything, but Ronin was proclaiming all his troubles with his eyes and this new figure was seemingly able to understand it all. Long, quiet moments passed and finally the man said something. "I've seen you around, kid. I now what you must be thinking. The Captain told me about you, and you were full of promise. Even for one so young, you held great potential. Well,

don't worry you'll be alright, just wait a little bit longer. No one can help you now, but it's okay, 'coz it'll get better by itself, just be patient. Be patient, you can find comfort in books, writing diaries, searching for jobs, dancing, making friends, dating (though you won't be finding

comfort in it, only the entertainment, and feeling that you are more alone then ever. You'll learn alot from the person you'll be dating and teach him [or her, we Easterlings don't judge] a whole lot, but it'll never feel satisfying or bring any comfort to you). Just occupy your time with somehting, whatever it is that let's you pass time. Passing time is all you can do now to live, nothing will make you happy to the full extent for a long while. These ghosts of happiness that you feel are just ghosts; you don't have it in you yet to feel it all the way. Wait and you'll be ready someday, but not now. Just make sure that you give yourself that opportunity to find yourself happy one day. And for that you have to live. Just live, and do your best to be making yourself feel, even those ghostly feelings you have now. Later they'll transform into real ones. You still have the ability to feel deeply, all the way to the bones, but you are not ready yet, you will be, you definitely will be, just be patient and you'll turn out just fine, or even better then fine." "After all, what this tribe needs is a damn fine Engineer. And lucky for you, math only requires one hand."