The Loyalist's first two millennia (788 BC - circa 11th/12th century AD

2,798 Years Ago, or 788 BC.

I was born and lived like all those during that time. My first “death” was when I tried to take on an Egyptian raider group. I was revived somewhere in the Orient, where I spent my time until roughly AD 25. I had begin to suspect by now that I was immortal, but I wasn't that far in what one would call an education, even after nearly 1,000 years of life. Sure, I knew how to do physical things, but I had no concept of time. So, anyways, I traveled to Rome (on foot, I think I died once or twice along the way) in AD 25. I got there around AD 32, and watched some guy who I'd later find out was some “Jesus” character be crucified.

After that, I traveled through Europe, until settling down in the northern tip of the island of Britain. I kept a low profile, and began to be less and less interested in physical work and fighting, until I decided to try and get an education. I think this was sometime around AD 122. I learned Latin, and began studying various literature, spending most of my time in libraries in the southern end of the island of Britain.

I kept an eye on educational endeavors, but eventually got bored, and decided to participate in one of these “Crusade” things I'd been hearing about. It was around that time that I met an Eternal besides myself. His name was…

To Jerusalem, England and Sardinia(1099-1106 AD)

When I arrived in Jerusalem in 1099, I could be what one would call a plethora of all current human knowledge. Studying for about 800 years would do that to you. That, and I wasn't to shabby a fighter. Having to deal with Viking raiders every so often does that to you. But, back on topic: I assisted in the the siege of Jerusalem, and was there when the Kingdom of Jerusalem was established. I got my head lobbed off, and woke up in the camp of one Robert Curthose. That's how I eventually ended up landing in Portsmouth in 1101. So I hung around with this guy for a while, it's not like I, being immortal, hadn't already done almost everything at this point (having been alive almost two thousand years by this point). Then, in 1105, I helped some of his friends undress him in his sleep so that he would have to miss a sermon by the venerable Serlo. I turned up in his place, and after the sermon slipped into the crowd, and eventually found my way to Sardinia in 1106.

Crusading, Orient-trotting, crusading, relaxing, naval adventures (1106-1494 AD)

After serving through a few Crusader campaigns alongside the Immortal Edward, I decided that it was time to return to the Orient. I found my way into a place called Fotuo, in 1201. I joined this monastery, and learned their ways, albeit slowly. I was there for about ten years, until a large war broke out nearby. On a visit to the local town to pick up some food from a family that had offered to give some, I was forcibly conscripted into some sort of army. We were facing a large army of nomads, it seemed. Luckily, my experience in the Crusades and my recent learning of Kung Fu allowed me to pull through without dying until 1215. I helped hold a seemingly important city for months, before the nomads finally broke in and killed everyone, including myself. I awoke in a hospital four years later, in 1218, ironically now in the care of the nomads. They didn't seem to realize I had been working with the enemy what felt like a few hours before. I reluctantly signed up to become one of them after I heard that they were headed for Europe. I had the pleasure of fighting in the invasion of Khwarezmia, and was on multiple occasions the accomplice or participant of a massacre of innocents, particularly at a place called Urgench. I managed to leave the army, and arrived in my homeland again in 1229, where it seemed that once again there was a war going on. It seems there was some sort of “Roman Empire” (I knew the original Romans, and these were not like them) invading Egypt.

In response to this, I backtracked a little, arriving in the quaint city of Jerusalem in 1230. I decided that I needed a little rest, and indeed, received it. All was quiet for me, until in 1244, the very people I had fought against when employed with the nomads attacked, and laid siege to the city. I jumped into the water to avoid being captured, and walked on the sea bottom until surfacing somewhere on the Italian coast. I was pulled into another crusade a short while later, what would be known as the Seventh Crusade. I reluctantly fought in the thing, but returned to Europe as soon as possible, which turned out to be in 1254, ten years after I ran from Jerusalem. I decided that the Western and Southern parts of Europe were extremely too violent for my taste, and moved to an area called Poland. Of course, it was only my luck that only five years later the nomads (or Mongols, as I'd learned to call them) attacked, or rather raided the very place I resided.

Angered at all this violence surrounding my life, I traveled all the way to a few islands off of Iberia, and attempted to settle down. I lived out in an empty field, but eventually neighbors came and went, and people died, and soldiers came through, until a long, long time later, a group of Spanish soldiers came through and established a city called “Real de Las Palmas”, in 1478. I lived with the new residents, and learned a few new languages “Spanish” and “Portuguese”. I continued living there, and finally decided in 1494 that 200 years of peace was enough to last me a while, and I wanted to adventure once more. I joined a ship voyage, and befriended a man by the name of Bartholomew Columbus. Together, we traveled to a far away place, where I had never visited before. A long voyage across a very large sea, and we came to a place Bartholomew named “La Isabela”, which in it's later years would come to be called “Santo Domingo”.