Corporal Rahnyld Zhermyn, Army of God, dropped down into the underbush, taking cover. It was raining. His rifle was useless - the priming soaked.
He let his thoughts wander for a moment. They flew right back to his office, inside the Temple. Being the aide of Vicar Rhobair - the Church's Treasurer - had its perks. But he couldn't stay back, no. He had to enlist, looking for something more thrilling, than 'counting beans' and keeping tithe records.
Bullets from the Shan-wei spawned Charisian rifles drummed into a bark, disturbingly close.
The Holy War was proving too exciting not only for Zhermyn's tastes...
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