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I stand as a general before the armies of the enemy elves, my forces nearly wiped away. Our banner, the banner of the Illuminated Fist, is torn and flailing weakly in the wind. We stand as the elite guard of our leader, and the protectors of the people. The elves are full of trickery, their only ethics involve their magic. Out forces which have been fighting with theirs for decades have been beaten back past our nation’s border by the magic of the elves. Our nation has been shattered and ground down to dust by our enemy, and our army now stands the last defense against their advance. During the war our men were taken captive and experimented on. Our men were mutilated and killed; tortured for information. Our men stood valiant and told nothing. The elves grew frustrated with our men, but the they are clever and patient. The testing went on through the war and our lost men were tortured and shaped; prodded and tested through the elves’ arcane magic. Back then we stood a chance against the elves, their forces could not match the might of our warriors. We took several of their cities and tried their might. The elves were fought off easily, but whenever they defeated one of our armies, they only took prisoners. The elves worked through the years and they fought us fiercely, until one battle occurred. I remember I was resting from the wounds of a battle and a scout rode into the courtyard, barely able to sit on his horse. He was the soul survivor of a battle against the elves that had taken place the night previous. The scout had enough time to tell me that the elves had created a new race of warriors far more fierce and strong than had ever existed. The men looked like bulls that walked on two legs. At first I thought it impossible, but then I saw them in battle. They were always at the front of the advances, driven by their masters. We tried to fight the infamous minotaurs, as they became to be known, but our efforts were futile. Even our most skilled warriors fell under their wrath. I remember the battlefield after one of these encounters. I looked at my brethren, then I saw a minotaur by my foot. He was dead, so I examined the corpse. There was so much sadness in the face of that minotaur, and some familiar features. It was confirmed that our men had been turned into these beasts. Even a dull axe could cut through our armor when a minotaur’s might was behind it. We tried to fight them with several strategies, but out efforts were for naught. As we were battered back time after time, only the elite guard stands as a barrier from defeat. I stood on the battlefield with the only remnant of my army, we could not fight one more battle, so I laid down my shield, and entered my tent where I garbed myself in black. I instructed my forces to do the same, and after they had done so, I addressed them. “The elves are advancing. I have one last way out... we will cut off their economy, we will kill their leaders, and we will fight them under the protection of darkness. We will defend our country, and we will do it by night.” After that time our scouts kept us strategically placed at all times, our assassins killed men strategically, and our thief's stole from them. Our empire became strong once more, and the elves fought us no more. The minotaurs soon broke free of their slavery and we took the opportunity to weaken them. The elves recovered by enslaving the minotaurs once more, but after the second cycle of slavery ended we still stood. The elves still stand as a threat as well as others who wish to rid us of the land, but we live in the night and we fight in the night. In the night we shall conquer!