Lad, this is one hell of a story. You might want to avoid reading this one. I wrote it 2.5 years ago, and it’s pretty embarrasing but no way in hell am I gonna rewrite it.
One day, long long ago, a young woman was helping tend a farm. Her family lived there, tilling the soil and fertilizing the land, that they may feed themselves and their neighbors. Their land was at war, but they were too busy trying to survive and thrive as a village to pay any mind to the battles and bloodshed of aristocrats.
Then, one day, an unfamiliar flag mantled the hilltops.
Soldiers decked in red and gold came over the grasslands and invaded the village, taking many hostage and rounding the families up. They were told to slaughter their cattle, burn their fields, and relinquish any weaponry they had. The young woman’s father refused; he had fed the entire village on his farmlands, as had his father before him.
He was executed.
As the soldiers burned his fields down, the young woman was torn with distress and confusion and anger. She grabbed a pitchfork and took to one of the soldiers in a rage. The trained man-at-arms defeated her handily, throwing her to the ground and taking her prisoner. His commander warned that the same would happen to any others that attacked them; it was worse than the death her father suffered, he added.
Days of confine within a rolling cage put the young woman to sorrow. She wept, screamed at her captors, and tried to escape countless times.
One time, she succeeded.
One night, as she escaped her confines thanks to a hapless soldier with some keys on his belt standing too close to the cage, she crept about the sleeping men. They were so exhausted from their wars and their raids. She saw a winged spear lying beside one of them, and thought again of the pitchfork she had wielded in defiance those days ago. She now wielded this spear, still in defiance of the invading army, and slew the commander in his sleep.
Fleeing from the camp, she found they were nowhere near a town or city. No place to hide, the young woman fled into a nearby forest. She held up here for many days, hiding from the patrols and scouts of an angry armed force, furious at the loss of their brave commander. She struck from the shadows, slaying one or two as she could, every night another soldier’s body found dead in the forest.
As such, the soldiers began to lose heart. They whispered of her, the girl who ambushed men of steel and glory with nothing but an iron spear and rose victorious each time. They began to know her as “The Iron Bear.” And so it was her title.
A few years passed, and the young woman has become a fine soldier. She enlisted with the local armies and fought back against the red-and-gold flag, her trusty spear always with her. Eventually, however, she left the army and returned to her home. It was changed; more people had moved here, more houses erected, and farmlands grown. She began living there once more, among her family and their families, but her spear and armor always rest at the ready.
For in the nights where the red-and-gold flags appear upon the hilltops, she stands strong in the village. Stands strong in the forests. Stands strong for her family.
Lad, this is one hell of a story. You might want to avoid reading this one. I wrote it 2.5 years ago, and it’s pretty embarrasing but no way in hell am I gonna rewrite it.
One day, long long ago, a young woman was helping tend a farm. Her family lived there, tilling the soil and fertilizing the land, that they may feed themselves and their neighbors. Their land was at war, but they were too busy trying to survive and thrive as a village to pay any mind to the battles and bloodshed of aristocrats.
Then, one day, an unfamiliar flag mantled the hilltops.
Soldiers decked in red and gold came over the grasslands and invaded the village, taking many hostage and rounding the families up. They were told to slaughter their cattle, burn their fields, and relinquish any weaponry they had. The young woman’s father refused; he had fed the entire village on his farmlands, as had his father before him.
He was executed.
As the soldiers burned his fields down, the young woman was torn with distress and confusion and anger. She grabbed a pitchfork and took to one of the soldiers in a rage. The trained man-at-arms defeated her handily, throwing her to the ground and taking her prisoner. His commander warned that the same would happen to any others that attacked them; it was worse than the death her father suffered, he added.
Days of confine within a rolling cage put the young woman to sorrow. She wept, screamed at her captors, and tried to escape countless times.
One time, she succeeded.
One night, as she escaped her confines thanks to a hapless soldier with some keys on his belt standing too close to the cage, she crept about the sleeping men. They were so exhausted from their wars and their raids. She saw a winged spear lying beside one of them, and thought again of the pitchfork she had wielded in defiance those days ago. She now wielded this spear, still in defiance of the invading army, and slew the commander in his sleep.
Fleeing from the camp, she found they were nowhere near a town or city. No place to hide, the young woman fled into a nearby forest. She held up here for many days, hiding from the patrols and scouts of an angry armed force, furious at the loss of their brave commander. She struck from the shadows, slaying one or two as she could, every night another soldier’s body found dead in the forest.
As such, the soldiers began to lose heart. They whispered of her, the girl who ambushed men of steel and glory with nothing but an iron spear and rose victorious each time. They began to know her as “The Iron Bear.” And so it was her title.
A few years passed, and the young woman has become a fine soldier. She enlisted with the local armies and fought back against the red-and-gold flag, her trusty spear always with her. Eventually, however, she left the army and returned to her home. It was changed; more people had moved here, more houses erected, and farmlands grown. She began living there once more, among her family and their families, but her spear and armor always rest at the ready.
For in the nights where the red-and-gold flags appear upon the hilltops, she stands strong in the village. Stands strong in the forests. Stands strong for her family.
 "Kuma_Tetsu")