Chapter:0, Prologue
Starting in 1754, a horrible war raged through the land, even after only its first year, it plagued the land like wildfire. Men and women, both of human and mob origins, fought in lines on some distant battlefield. Dressed in flashy uniforms of red and white, they fired volleys at the enemy lines, and the enemy did the same. After 2 or 3 shots, one of the sides would fix bayonets and charge the other line. It was a cruel war, with thousands dead. It was fought all over the globe like this, but not so much in a small corner in minecraftia, across the ocean from the other battlefields. A not so respected area, where people escaped to so they can escape the horrible war, and live their lives freely. They were wrong. The enemy side wanted the northern and southern area of this so called, " Colony". Then the country who didn't care for the colonists suddenly cared, and send thousands of soldiers. They prepared for a war that was completely different than what they understood.
The enemy had been in that area for decades, training soldiers to fight like the native warriors that called the colonies home for milenia. They dressed like them, equipped their militia and soldiers like them, and even procreated with them to gain their trust. The colonists had done this as well, but as a means of survival and necessity. Instead of swords they carried clubs and hatchets intended for trading with the natives. Instead of gaiters and leather belts around their legs, they wore leather and wool leggings and woven leg ties to supplement their dwindling supplies of uniforms. They shortened their muskets and uniforms to fight comfortably in the dense forests of the colonies. A sword or saber was unfit for forest warfare, and was only worn as a sign of rank most of the time. Most of the enemy soldiers wore hatchets along with their bayonet because they had multiple uses. Chop firewood as well as human limbs, it was a brutal, but a perfect pair with a fighting knife in the forest.
Now, as luck would have it, our hero is on the colonist side of this war. This light skinned, brown haired trapper had been fighting most of his life. He wasn't all that old when the war started. He was 16 at the time. His parents and siblings were killed in a native raid to his village when he was off hunting. The only thing that was left to him was his father's prised hunting sword that he had to take back from the native warrior who pried it out of his fathers dead hands as a trophy. He had to scavenge and use what he had to survive. He holed up at a camp meant for soldiers for a little while until he was pressed into service. He fought in the line infantry for 6 months until he was walking through camp when he spotted a young officer dressed in what seemed in civilian clothing, but he carried the equipment and cartridge box of a soldier. He later learned that those humans and mobs fought for their colonies, not for the country across the sea. They were militia, who didn't fight like line infantry. They fought from behind trees and boulders and didn't have to answer to the fat cats that led the line infantry from a horse 200 yards behind the battlefield. He then pulled some strings and bribed some officers with some tobacco he liberated from an officers tent and was then drafted into the militia as a scout. And that is where our story starts off...