“They drank to quiet their cheerless reflections of the perils of their bounty. Still Morrow suffered the burden of due celebrity for his skills in battle and the legends inspired enemy warriors of some regard to seek him on the field as their nations met to advance the violent ends they efforted to sew shut. While a young man, Still Morrow delighted in these mortal disputes but as the years aged him, he discovered his foes were of eternal youth and ignorance. And despite sharing the dress of previous champions, he saw those before him become but children, anew and scarcely corrupted by war. The old sergeant came to dread the maintenance of his myth, as he realized his survival of so many campaigns was a curse born from the gods, and his state unrivaled would end when feebleness stole his mind or vengeance rent his heart.”