( ...must. He speak the words? He did speak the words. Prepares, body and bone and soul to speak them once over —

Before the ancient call of a man who raised a son, with thanks reminds him that he will never earn respect through peace at this junction, and so —

Well.

A hand is raised. A die is cast. Incidentally and most perfunctorily, with it, is a snowball. 'lo, behold, the speeding projectile —

While Lan Wanghi, who has not fended off archers and sword swings and catapults for naught takes this time to dash behind a mound, crouching. This is not play, which would surely be forbidden.

It is war. )