"The wintry winds, so cold and bitter, embrace the warrior in the heat of battles. Thunder claps among icy skies, smoke tendrils, and armor rattles. The wicked song, the sea of blood, the great swam churns in the tides. The soldier yearns for a place of rest, where peace and quiet still hides. Yet in his soul, he surely knows the bug hordes must die, so on he fights knowing he'd be lost if he ever found a place to lie."