The Price of Freedom!!

The weary warrior trudged through the heaps of corpses - the glorious dead. The royal knights stood on the escarpment, bellowing their valor at the banishment of the demons. Their squires waited patiently in attendance for their battle-weary masters.

The warrior was just another foot soldier. The dirt and grime was just another aspect of a grunt's life. "Noble blood ne'er did flow in these veins of peasant descent," muttering a curse at his distinctly ordinary heritage. He admonished himself for having thoughts that was not befitting of his person.

"For the kindness of the dukes, and their magnanimosity, I should be grateful."

"Thank the lords for the small mercies that have come my way."

And the fiery skies in the horizon was an ominous signal - the battle had been won, but the war was far from over.

This battle was just the fourth in a short span of 2 years. His duty was to serve - such mindless drivel would be of no purpose.

And that, in truth, was the price of his freedom.