"We have lost allies in our foolishness. Dassem Ultor, the First Sword reborn... Hood's Champion, Dessembrae, had grown to rival power of his god [of death]... Consider: from Dassem’s fall, a mortal empire now totters on the edge of chaos. From Dassem’s fall, the Shadow Throne found a new occupant."

/-/-/-/

"The First Sword of Empire. Dassem Ultor. We heard it in the capital before we left. He's dead. Is it true? Is Dassem dead?"

The man Whiskeyjack seemed to flinch, his gaze unwavering. "Such is war," he muttered, under his breath, as if the words were not meant for anyone else's ears.

"You're with the Third. I thought the Third was with him, in Seven Cities. At Y'Ghatan --"

"Hood's breath, they're still looking for his body in the still-hot rubble of that damned city..."

"...It's said he betrayed a god."

/-/-/-/

"Do what's right," Dassem told us. Gods, even after all this time he still remembered the First Sword's words. "That's a higher law than the command of any officer. Higher even than the Emperor's own words. You are in a damned uniform but that's not a license to deliver terror to everyone – just the enemy soldier you happen to be facing. Do what is right, for that armour you wear doesn't just protect your flesh and bone. It defends honour. It defends integrity. It defends justice. Soldiers, heed me well. That armour defends humanity. And when I look upon my soldiers, when I see these uniforms, I see compassion and truth. The moment those virtues fail, then the Gods help you, for no armour is strong enough to save you."

/-/-/-/

"The man's skin was dark, for he had been born on a savannah. His was a war-riot's build, the muscles lean and sharply defined on his frame. His height was average, though something in his posture made him seem taller. Dying was unthinkable, and that was no exaggeration. When a man has forsaken Hood, the final gate is closed. Oblivion or the torment of a journey without end - there was no telling what fate awaited such a man. In any case, Dassem was in no hurry to discover an answer. No, he would invite Hood to find it himself."

/-/-/-/

And now for something completely different...

Ladies and Gentlemen, skinny and stout,
I'll tell you a tale I know nothing about;
The Admission is free, so pay at the door,
Now pull up a chair and sit on the floor.

One fine day in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight;
Back to back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot each other.

A blind man came to watch fair play,
A mute man came to shout "Horray!"
A deaf policeman heard the noise and
Came to stop those two dead boys.

He lived on the corner in the middle of the block,
In a two-story house on a vacant lot;
A man with no legs came walking by,
and kicked the lawman in his thigh.

He crashed through a wall without making a sound,
into a dry creek bed and suddenly drowned;
The long black hearse came to cart him away,
But he ran for his life and is still gone today.

I watched from the corner of the big round table,
The only eyewitness to facts of my fable;
But if you doubt my lies are true,
Just ask the blind man, he saw it too.