Take thou dagger in thee hand, son.
Go and slay the fiend.
Doth thou hay thy will and spirit for such a task?
Ride hard and long, shadowed warrior.
May thou steed be blessed.
For you now carry the fate of us all.
Lift you valiant sword.
Alas! it meets its match.
Cling! Clang!
Blood has been spilt.
Glory is found in thee.
Ah, my son.
All is well.
 
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