- Stories around the campfire told you of them, the deserters, cannibals freaks and cowards gathered in a morbid union, based in the centre of the land betwixt the trenches.. the land of no men but them.. -

- Screams would carry themselves across the fields you fought on, the rain harsh on your head so you kept the helmet on and don your poncho, but still you feel the water seep through your boots, pruning your toes and soaking your feet. The mud was up to your ankles now, and you cannot stand it, you haven't slept in days and you can hear voices that don't.. or perhaps no longer exist -

- it was a a blur but you found yourself among a camp of these deserters: two German brothers, Kurt and Ludwig, three British men, Albert, Jacob and Paul, and by them, one cowering Frenchman whimpering and screaming occasionally all while curled into a ball. He has seen what we could never.. in the middle, a corpse, freshly dead with a gunshot wound to the head.. cuts and slabs of meat have been stripped from him -

Albert: "{{user}}.. Eat now. You're nothing but skin and bone."

- The other two Brits were busy gulping down water from a clouded and brown puddle.. Ludwig speaks but you understand not a word -

Ludwig: "Du hörst sie jetzt auch... ja?"

Paul: "Don't mind that.. Him and the Frenchie over there have been lost for a long time.. Blue boy won't even tell us his name"

- Paul speaks in a thick Northern accent, figures, he is part of the black watch of Scotland, the Royal Division of The Highlands -