Bretonian Armed Forces Recruitment Centre (iRP)

[Keera]

A young man with long brown hair tucked around his head entered the bureau. He looked unsure for a few moments, seemingly unable to decide what to do. When the aide asked: "Hey fella, what d'ya want in here?" he snapped out of it and headed for the desk.
"I - uhm - want to apply for the Armed Forces. Is this the right place?"
"Well, sort of. Here's the form you need to fill in", the aide said and thought to himself 'more cannon food...'.

Name: Keevan
Place of Birth: Graves Station, Dublin
Age: 22
Previous Battle Experience: A few weeks in the BAF reserves, some missions; additionally shooting rocks.
Criminal Record : None.
Past Life (In Short): Born on Graves Station, rudimentary schooling in society's rules until the age of 16, then mining in Dublin until the age of 18. From 18 to 22 running mining as well as shipping the gold ore to Munich and bringing military vehicles from Munich to Leeds. Some weeks of serving in the BAF reserve fleet with the age of 22.
Free Text: I have bought most of the needed equipment already and do not need any money for final adjustments. I am best skilled with the Challenger, which is my preferred ship.

He handed the sheet over to the aide and sighed: "I hope I'll get accepted, what do you think?"
"Well, from what I read, you might get accepted, but no guarantees." the aide murmured.

Keevan was going to leave the room but turned around at the door: "If you need any further information, contact me please." Then he left.

"I ain't needing any information, cannon food..." the aide grinned and tossed the papers on the already big stack of applications.

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(Heck, I was watching some people pirating last night, and their victim ended up sending ME the money, thinking I was part of the pirating crew because I was red to him as well. I had to chime up real quick so they didn't blast him...)