The enemy that flees....

When we humans threw ourselves from the walls down the slopes, there could be no enemy, monster or force to stop us; we were an elite force willing to kill to protect their home.

We humans rode for the first time in the dark week on the slopes of the mountain of Camelot, and this is how our heroic feat was reflected in the songs of the bards for many centuries.

"One night without moon

in the battlements shone

the weapons they won

in their prideful efforts,

They shone without a moon,

They shone without a sun.

Courage in their voices

the braves and their souls.

On a moonless night

The weapons had shone,

Trampled the earth,

Their steps are on fire

trampled the earth,

Their wings ride the air,

their spears made of ice,

and the enemy died

on the mountain's slope,

staining the night

with brushes of blood.

The powerful voice shouted

¡To the weapons!