M6 Visit to The Congo

     I was definitely pissed. i was shaking with rage. But I decided that revenge could wait. Instead, I decided to travel to west Africa! I had always been a fan of its beautiful scenery and the people there.
     I ended up in a small village in the land that would one day be the Congo. It was called Bukavu. It was primarily a fishing village and you could tell from the fragrant air. I walked around for awhile, watching the villagers work. They were doing things like making nets and traps and splitting firewood. There was also the tang of salt in the air. I looked for the source of the smell and walked towards a small marketplace.
    "Fresh fish, fresh fish! Shiny yummy fresh fish!" a man was shouting. I walked towards him and he caught my eye. "You there! You look like a man that could appreciate a good fish! I'll give you a deal. One fish a slate of salt, two fish a slate and a half!" I looked at him helplessly, indicating I had no salt. But the more I  looked at the man, the more my eyes went wayward to stare at the fish. They looked really good.
     "No salt?" asked the man. I shook my head.( I could understand the language but not speak it) He smiled a open, buffoonish grin. "Ill give you the fish, if you scale the rest of my fish yourself and take over the stall for the rest of the day." I nodded in approval and he handed  me two cooked fish on sticks. I ate ravenously, consuming one fish in a bit longer than a standard blink. The other I ate slowly, savoring the perfect taste of the freshest produce I've ever eaten. That moment made the rest of the day of selling fish worth it.
     I stayed there for a long time, every day working for that perfect fish.

M5 Alekxander

     After my brush with Muhammad, i decided to shade walk to a time when one of my best friends was still alive. His name was Alekxander Wolfer-Smidt a German Jew who's ways of following his book were a bit lopsided. Alek was a fist fighting priest.He regularly fought various ethnic groups. His methods lacked style, but his results were incredible. He was, forgive the pun, an unorthodox Jew.
     I arived at his house, well, shack really, and knoked on his door.  He opened the door and came out swinging huge hay makers at my head. I ducked and took his legs out from under him with a swift kick. I looked down at my friend. "I win again Alek.", I said.
     "Schön dich zu sehen Mercer! Its good to see you my friend!",he said in his booming voice,"you come at good time. The dirty gottverlassenen bösen Christens are coming! They have no need for alliances, and they sharpen there

Schwerters, there swords, on Jewish bones!" There was a knock on the door, and then it was kicked down. The people standing in the door were christain knights, the red cross on there shields was as red as blood. They threw a rock at Alek's head witch hit with a dull thump. He collapsed on the floor, a trickle of red escaping from his head. They hit me from behind and I blacked out.
     When I woke up, I was hanging from  my ankles. Across from me Alekander was moaning on The Rack. A bunch of crusaders took him down and picked him up. They dropped him on the floor and dragged him towards what looked like a pile of ashes. They took a torch and dropped it on him. He jumped off and started to run, but one of the crusaders threw a knife at his back. He collapsed on the floor, and they dragged him back on the fire. 'Christ, we adore thee!" they shouted. I hid my eyes but could do nothing to escape the screams. I knew he would die just like he did every time I came here, but this was more than I could take. I was completely disheartened.
     The Crusaders left me there, crying and listening to the screams of my oldest friend. I made a silent vow to find them, and destroy them.