So basically a story game where I will narrate the whole plot as a set of flashbacks. The decisions you make in these flashbacks will influence present situations too. Here's the part I managed to write, just to give y'all an idea about the protagonist and her personality. Do share your opinion.
"No, hold your sword straight, not like that Carl! Look at your foot position too, I swear you'll lose balance and trip the second you move forward!"
"I-I'm sorry ma'am."
Running a combat school is no easy task. You're nothing more than a glorified babysitter teaching kids how to handle sticks effectively...
"No John, not like that, don't hold your arm straight! You'll snap your elbow if you parry a strong blow!"
"O-ok ma'am."
These kids are nothing more than a bunch of crying babies, if you don't treat them with a strong hand, they'll never improve.
As you go about your training routine, correcting kid after kid for the most silliest possible errors, you hear three rapid knocks on the door.
You walk towards the door, your feet lightly bouncing on the smooth tatami mats. It is then you realize from the golden hue of the light entering from the windows that its already sunset.
"Okay kids! Class dismissed. Those of you who are taking part in the harvest festival tomorrow, have to be here at sharp four in the morning! If you're late, I will personally come to your bed and bludgeon your tiny little heads out of sleep! Got it?" You say, obviously not being serious.
Though from the terrified looks on some of the boys, it seems that they might've taken it seriously...
"Yes madam!" They say in chorus and quickly depart from the back door. Good kids, they know better than calling upon your wrath by disturbing your visitor on the front door.
You move forward, and as you head towards the door, you take a look at your dojo. Dusty walls adorned with the medals, certificates, and trophies of various monsters you've won over the years from back when you were a wannabe adventurer. Troll heads, dragon heads, a giant's tooth, a demon's hide, and many more nailed to the wall. The near-death memories from each of these are still relatively fresh. Amongst these your most prized possession, the royal great sword and mithril armour you won in a tournament, lie on show in holders. You never used that sword though, it just wasn't your fighting style. Your utmost prized possession however, lies sheathed on your side. The first blade you had wielded, given to you by your own father. An extremely light sword with a long handle and curved blade that was supposedly forged in your father's homeland far east from here.
You're suddenly broken from your reverie with another sharp knock on the door.
"Coming! Hold your damn horses!" You say, as you head towards the door and open it. You see a short man, with an extremely annoyed face, dressed in the sort of clothes that would cost a labourer a lifetime of earnings.
"Message from the king, he wishes your presence at the palace at the earliest."
You scoff at that, "If 'his highness' wanted me at the 'earliest', he should've forced his lazy geezer ass to come himself, rather than send a slave," you say, "besides I already made it pretty damn clear that I will not become a plaything for the royalty before, didn't I ?"
"Miss Jessica Dixon, you have to understand, the current general is in an extremely fragile condition, and with the current war ongoing with Braznivia if we lose him, the kingdom could be lo-"
You cut him short, saying,"I don't give a rat's ass about you and the stupid fights this kingdom gets involved in! Just don't get into conflicts y'all can't handle. I've made it abundantly clear time and time again, that I will not become the general."
Now he visibly frowns, and you feel like he's going to explode with pent up frustration.
Oh boy, this is gonna be fun...
"You insolent little bitch! I don't know what his majesty even sees in a fucking whore like you. Heck we've never had a woman soldier, let alone a general! All you're doing in your shady little business is fooling rich kid's parents into thinking you're some sort of warrior, whereas in reality you're nothing more than a fucking harlo-
ARGH!!!"
You once again, cut him short, quite literally this time though, by drawing your sword and slicing out the tip of his tounge in the blink of an eye.
"And that, was because you were spouting shit with that. Still think I'm a harlot?"
You say, smirking.
"You lihhle pieche o-"
You place your blade directly on his throat.
"Remember this, never underestimate Jessica Dixon ever again. Now run back to your master with your tail between your legs and send him my regards."
Upon which the man really does turn tail and run. However, right after he leaves behind him you see a figure, who you recognize instantly. A scar runs on his blinded left eye, as he walks limping with a wooden leg. His face is wrinkled and his hair grey, but the aura of strength around him is still strong.
"D-dad?"
"Hey there, little volcano still can't believe you've changed so much."
You're unable to believe that your dad actually came to visit you. You run towards him and embrace him.
"I missed you so so much."
"I'm sure you did. Though you seemed rather busy there I say," he says while pointing at your blood glazen sword.
"Sorry about that, I kinda lost my control there. Damn it would take too long to remove this blood stain," you sigh.
"Oh its fine, that part about you hasn't changed yet. You'll always be the hot-headed, sweet little volcano I know," he says, while ruffling your brown hair. Just like he always does.
"I guess so," you reply amusingly.
"Why don't you come in? It must have been a long journey all the way from home."
As you help your dad inside, a rush of memories flow through in your mind. Memories that you almost forgot, but were suddenly triggered by seeing your father after such a long time...
[Beginning of flashback]