After death, fighting is the only way to feel something.
Lore
Excerpt from <i>Victory for None</i> by Herman Davies
We’d hold our positions well enough. Not one of the men ever broke when facing mortars or bombs. But I tell you what. Sometimes some bit of divine power, some warrior or beast straight out of legend, would tear through our lines. How's a man supposed to stand against that? What did it gain us? Those were the really bad times.
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