Foreword: I thought this up REAL quick guys… It literally took me 10 minutes to write this little piece'o'crap story. This is just a real short thing I decided to do. After I finish up a lot of my loose writing, I'll be starting a longer story here.

Disclaimer: Nope… I'm poor, and don't own the rights to Final Fantasy Tactics.


The brilliant full moon shone down into a clearing, filled with a small troop of soldiers. Everyone quietly rested themselves, drifting off into sleep. However, for one man, sleep did not come.

Ramza sat atop a log, staring into the smoldering embers of the fire. "What's the point?" he mused softly.

"I'm out here in the wilderness… I just want to find Alma and go home… What's the point of all of this fighting? What's the point of all of this?" He sourly ran his gloved hand through his hair, and sighed. Glancing to his left, he appraised all of the people traveling with him. "I'm grateful that they're here with me, but…"

Sighing once more, he closed his brown eyes, and lifted his face to the sky. His stomach rumbled deep within him, and Ramza spoke up more loudly than before, voice bordering on whining. "God damn it! What's the point of having a troop of top notch soldiers if we can't even make a decent meal!"


Author's Notes: Well… Hope you leave some sort of feedback. Hope I didn't waste your time. This was just meant to be a short little piece, and I hope that there weren't many mistakes.