The sound of the wheels on the stones emanated through my carriage.

As we passed the dirty, starving travelers on the road, walking to the Great Wall, I smirked to myself and pictured them on the wall, with me behind them with my whip. It was currently curled up and leaned against the side of the bench. I soon grew tired of the boring ride so I curled up and slept. I awoke to the sound of the carriage door sliding open. I grabbed my whip and exited, shrinking away from the harsh sunlight. I was guided to a large room inside one of the towers. They closed the door on me, and I staggered to my bed. After I gathered my bearings, I examined my new home. It was made of well-finished wooden planks. There was a soft bed, and some assorted furniture. But a piece of paper was on the dresser. It intrigued me, and turned out to be important. I turned it over. The first part of it read, Hello Noble Foreman! Your task is to build your section of the Great Wall of China. There need to be towers every 100 yards. Your brick-making facilities and builders are all under your command. Little food will be supplied to you, so trading with merchants is allowed under certain circumstances. You have 5 years to finish your task. If you unfortunately dont finish your assignment, Im afraid you will not live to see another chance. Work quickly and efficiently. You are wished the best of luck. The paper went on to give directions for how to build this wall, but I already had a way in mind. I went outside with the intention of exploring the facilities. I mounted a horse that was tethered to my room. I rode down to the brick-makers. There were many tunnels leading to clay deposits, and some skinny looking men and women crafting bricks using various tools. A fire burned at the center. But I sneered as I saw some boys playing with rocks on the ground. I was under the impression that I could assert authority using my whip. I walked up to them and kicked one over. I lashed him and he was screaming for me to stop, while all the other workers went silent, gaping at this situation. The other boy tried to scramble away, but I grabbed him and kicked him. I shouted at the group, See these boys? These will be you if you slack off! Stay working or stay wounded! They all immediately sprung into action, making bricks. I galloped away on my horse, quite proud of myself. I tethered my horse, and then walked the ramparts, all while yelling at the workers I passed to work all day and night, and hard, or else they will be beaten. A few men tried to stand up to me, but I quickly made them believe my words by using them as example. One tried to throw a punch, so in my defense I smashed his nose in and threw him off the wall. I wasnt keen on burying my men, so it was decided the dead would be buried inside the wall. That night, I slept in my bed, behind my locked door. I heard at one point someone trying to quietly open it, only to find it locked. I heard footsteps echo on the stones. I chuckled to myself, and went to sleep. Every morning from that day on, I would walk to ramparts, whipping the slackers, or the ones too weak to go on. The weak ones were discarded. At one point I even overheard men plotting to mutiny. I didnt hear who it was, so I just leered called, Good Luck!

Every few nights, break-ins were attempted on my cabin. So one night, I didnt go into the room. I waited in the shadows, hidden entirely, right by the door. I rubbed the blade I was carrying. I saw a silhouette appear climbing the crenellations. He slipped between them and took out a set of homemade lock picks. He tried to get in for hours, while I watched. Eventually, I grew impatient. I decided to make my strike. I took out my knife, and creeped up behind him. I raised my weapon, and brought down hard, impaling his shoulder. He screamed in agony, and whipped around. A fist crashed into my face. I felt a break. It burned. But now was not the time to feel pain. Meanwhile, the man tugged the knife out of his shoulder, with only a slight wince. The dripping, shining blade was in his hands, although it had been in his shoulder a moment earlier. He brought the knife to my face, and made two quick cuts on my cheek. I couldnt escape, so I grunted and beared the pain. But then, unexpectedly, he fell forward. He lay dead on the ground, an arrow protruding from the back of his head. No man revealed himself as the shooter. I coughed up some blood, and lurched into my room. In my mirror, I saw my broken cheekbone protruding from my face. The assailant cut an X into my cheek. I never felt so ashamed of myself. I was boiling over with self-loathing. How could I not kill him? I had the easiest chance! But no, I didnt. And to make matters worse, I dont even know what he looks like! And even worse: I have 5 more days to finish the wall. I have 5 more towers to build! Many of my men are wounded or starving, largely due to my disregard for their welfare. The next few days I tried valiantly to finish the wall and towers, but to no avail. Before the deadline, though, I looked over the wall and saw the Mongol Horde! I tried to organize my men, but they all disrespected and hated me, and faced in this threat they didnt turn to my authority. So I went with the rest of them and scrambled for a weapon. This place was about to get violent.