The Fallen Warrior

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"The war is won! And all thanks to our greatest Knight, Jean Pierre Polnareff, the Silver Chariot!" Announced the King of France, as the crowd cheered and chanted his name, but the world faded to black as Polnareff opened his eyes to awake. That wasn't a dream, it was his life, an old memory of what his life once was. 

"Hey, Jean, get up, you may have been our hero, but you still gotta pay and not snooze around" said Bar tender Daniel J. D'Arby 

Polnareff ripped of a piece of his armor that stank like ass, his armor was made out of real silver meant nothing to him anymore "Another, take it or leave it" he groaned 

D'Arby awkwardly took the stinky piece of silver armor and poured him another one. "God, what a poor man" 

Polnareff began to drink down his feelings attempting to drown his sorrows only for them to swim back up. It was years ago when Polnareff attended a Crusade with his fellows on the search to win a war against England. With men from around the world fighting for 50 days, he developed a close friendship to many of his comrades, only for them to have all died or retreated home. They almost lost the war, and Polnareff almost lost his life, but he lost all his friends and soldiers. So he went home, only to discover that days later, they had won. 

He loathed himself into thinking that he looked like a coward, going back home leaving the many men's lives on the line while he was being nursed back to health, only for them to win without him. 

Over the years he began to drink down and his golden image to fade into black as the days wore him down, he'd sell pieces of his armor slowly over time just for beer or food, women no longer wanted him and was no longer claimed as the Hero of France. The only thing he never gave away was his fencing sword. A symbol of his glory and bravery, the only thing he'd really care to hold on to. 

"Monsieur Polnareff" Said a Royal messenger "The king would like to speak with you" 

It has been a long time since Polnareff has set foot in the royal palace, he was in rags and worn out clothing, it felt just as weird not being here while wearing his shiny and glorious armor in it's full set. 

"Bonjour, Silver Chariot," said the King "We know you have been... troubled... these past few years, but I am giving you an oppertunity that will give you great redemption and a better place in the palace" 

Polnareff bowed "What ever you wish, my King" 

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