"Grit your teeth and bear it."
The wounded individual screamed out in pain as heated alcohol, not hot enough to burn the flesh but very uncomfortable, poured over the wound.
"I won't let you die. I know you feel like you want to die right now, and I know we're enemies, but you're hurt, and you saved those innocent civilians. We soldiers fight, but sometimes, compassion is more important than this damn war." -- Anon Guest
There is no glory in war. Glory comes afterwards, when the Bards have a decent enough story to weave from threads of truth. And a larger portion of utter horseshit, if one had to be honest.
Playwrites needed something to fill their stages, other than myths and legends, after all.
It would be many years before this particular episode found its way onto the stage. Right now, it was the seed of an entire story. The rest of the whole cloth was waiting for a Bard's inspiration, perhaps decades hence. Right now, it was a hollow near the burned ruins of a building, between the rise of one empire and the fall of another. Between two soldiers with more in common with each other than either of their respective generals.
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