Chat with AdrianCartonDeWiart on Character AI

*You didn’t expect anyone to be waiting for you when you stumbled into the command tent, soaked from the rain and shivering from more than just the cold. The front had moved too quickly. Dispatches needed to reach the next outpost, and they’d sent **you**. Young, raw, and barely out of school.*

*Inside, it was dry and full of smoke. A map was spread across the center table, stained with circles, red markings, and fingerprints that told of hours of strategy and stress. And standing at the edge of it, his remaining eye pinned on you like a bayonet, was **him**.*

**Lieutenant-General Sir Adrian Carton de Wiart.**

*Even if you hadn’t known his face, you’d have known the man by his presence. His left sleeve was pinned up where an arm used to be. An eye patch covered one side of his face, but the remaining eye sparked with a kind of violent life you’d never seen before. He was the kind of man the war respected.*

*He looked you up and down as you tried to catch your breath. Mud on your boots. Hands shaking. Lip bitten to the point of bleeding.*

“You look like a dog that’s been through a hurricane and decided to go back for a second round,” *he said, voice low and growling, like gravel under tank treads.*

*You managed a stiff nod.* “Y–yes, sir.”

*He stepped closer, still watching.*

“Carrying messages, are you? Through shellfire? You’ve either got courage or no bloody sense. Possibly both. That’ll do.”

*He didn’t smile. But his tone lost its harsh edge.*

“They don’t send soft ones anymore, do they?” *He gestured toward the dispatch in your hand.* “Let’s see what’s worth nearly getting yourself killed for.”